Succubus Lost
Page 7A campus that now looked cloaked in danger.
I walked the couple of blocks to the parking lot, keeping my eyes on the area around me. There were too many places a person could have hid along the path.
Behind a tree, crouched next to a trashcan, standing in plain sight—it wasn’t like that would look out of place on a college campus.
The same gray haze that seemed to cover everything else also coated the parking lot. Rain wasn’t falling yet— not really—but a slow drizzle coated the air and the dark fall sky was oppressive. Cars packed the large area to the brim, and like most college campus parking lots, not a single space remained free.
Well lit and recently painted, the parking lot didn’t look like the kind of place that women just went missing from.
Then again, people disappeared from perfectly normal- looking places every day. But two women disappearing together was highly unusual.
A lone officer—one who’d been assigned to the case while I was in the office with Vasquez—stood by a car not far from where I’d entered. When I approached he nodded to me.
“Is this Wendy’s car?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Just waiting on a warrant.”
I gave the small Ford a once-over, careful to avoid touching it. I didn’t see anything unusual. The girls probably hadn’t even made it to the car. My gut clenched at the thought, and the small amount of hope I’d carried that we’d find a quick link to their kidnapper slipped away.
The vehicle wouldn’t contain any evidence to help us find Elaine and Wendy, and identifying where exactly they had been taken would be difficult. Never mind finding any evidence that could actually be linked conclusively.
I studied the parking lot carefully. The lights— something about them drew my attention, but they were tall enough that I had difficulty making out exactly what was off about them. I strode to the closest one and looked up, then blinked at the object adjacent to the light dumbly, as hope blossomed in my chest.
Security cameras.
Chapter Five
“What do you mean, the data’s gone?” My voice rose to a shriek that even my half-banshee friend Mac would have been proud of.
“I’m sorry,” Donovan said. “I don’t know what could have happened to the footage. Like I told the other officers, nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“And you didn’t think to mention this to us earlier?”
I asked. Donovan’s gaze darted to his hands. Of course he hadn’t mentioned the cameras and lost footage. The little weasel hadn’t wanted to get yelled at.
“Isn’t there some sort of backup system?” Costa asked. He touched my shoulder and I shrugged him off.
“Not really,” the head of security said. “The system records everything onto a hard drive. It’s eventually deleted, but only when it’s downloaded and archived.
But everything from the last week was deleted—that was everything on the drive—and it doesn’t seem to have been archived. We’ve never had a problem like this before. I—”
“Well, you’ve got a problem now, buddy. Maybe you should go find someone who actually knows how to do his job.” I held my facade in place with the thinnest of emotional threads.
Red-faced, the head of security stuttered that he would get someone on the phone from the security company who sold the school the system, and he disappeared into his office.
I paced the hallway and Costa, eyes hooded, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. After a few minutes, I calmed down enough to stop pacing. Donovan approached, his arms and head pulled close to his body like a dog expecting to be hit, and Costa pushed away from the wall.
“I’m sorry, Detective, but it’ll be a while before I have any information for you.” He glanced around. “I could call you,” he said, hopeful.
I opened my mouth to tell him that I would wait, but my cell phone rang before I could get the words out.
I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the number.
Astrid.
I touched my phone’s screen. “Hello?” I took my wallet out. Astrid’s voice came over the line as I handed the head of security my card.
“Hey, Marisol. It’s Astrid. I’m so sorry about your sister.”
“Thanks,” I whispered. I cleared my throat and shoved my wallet back into my jacket. “We’ll find her, so there’s nothing to be sorry about.”
I covered the phone’s microphone. “Can you wait here for the footage? I have something I need to do on that other case.”
Costa nodded curtly, and I lifted the phone back to my ear. “What do you need?”
“So tell me again why you need me to talk to the witch?”
I asked. Astrid and I stood in front of Natalie Leigh’s high-rise office building, and its shiny walls glittered even when surrounded by dark gray skies.
Astrid frowned. “I don’t need you, exactly. I just don’t really care for witches, okay?”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t press her. Covenant witches were a secretive lot, and I couldn’t blame her for not liking them. Only the vampires compared to the Covenant for political power in the otherworlder arena.
Witches and vampires were powerful, and more plentiful than most other species. And more importantly, they were two species that were drawn to power. They sought it, fought for it, and generally got it.
“I’ll just wait for you out here. Let me know if you absolutely need me to come up and I will,” Astrid said, her face creased with worry.
“All right.”
I walked into the lobby. A large man stood as I entered, and boy, did he stand. He was at least as tall as Costa, putting him several inches above six feet. Where Costa was lean, this man was wide—built like a football player who did nothing but go to the gym. He wore a suit but had the guarded look of professional muscle. He wasn’t exactly my type, but I paused to appreciate the view anyway.
He watched me as I flashed my badge at the receptionist, and then he took a step toward me, his face strangely intense, no doubt drawn by my succubus allure.
I didn’t have time to deal with an admirer, so I frowned at him sternly and then broke eye contact and turned to the receptionist. The woman was shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but Ms. Leigh is otherwise occupied.”
“It’s important police business,” I said. “She’s just going to have to spare me a few minutes.” Not waiting for her reply, I strode toward the elevator, shooting a quick look over my shoulder to make sure the big man wasn’t following me.
I glanced at the directory. Natalie Leigh, Witch was listed in suite 1400. I stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the fourteenth floor.
Astrid’s partner, Claude, was a vampire, and in addition to working for the police department, he was the unofficial attaché between the local vampire leader, the Magister, and the local cops. Between Astrid’s dislike for witches and Claude’s vampire status—vampires and witches didn’t get alone well—they probably avoided Natalie like the plague. Lieutenant Vasquez probably loved them for it. Witches were tough on the department’s budget.
The reception area was empty, but the door to the single office in the suite was half-ajar. I walked to it and knocked lightly. The hinges creaked slightly as I pushed it open.
A dark-haired young woman—younger than I would have guessed a fully certified Covenant witch could be— stood behind the desk. She was short, probably just above five feet tall, which made her slightly taller than Astrid.
She was pretty in the same way Astrid was—a cute pixie face with a short cut that only looked really good on very pretty women—but she possessed an air of sophistication that Astrid lacked. Where Astrid was down to earth, girl next door, Natalie was the understated movie star or politician’s daughter. Her height made her more than half a foot shorter than me, but thanks to the man sitting across from her desk, I wasn’t the giant in the room.
“Detective,” Natalie said, voice smooth despite the palpable tension in the room. “I understand it was important for you to speak with me immediately, but I’m afraid I’m in the middle of something—”
“Nonsense,” the thin man said. “Please see to the detective, Natalie. I can entertain myself for a few minutes.”
He was a slight man, but well dressed and manicured.
Over six feet tall, he was thin as a rail, something his height only accentuated. Balding, he had smoothed his dark brown hair back from his face and held it with gel.
The lights glinted off his cold blue eyes.
“I’m Detective Marisol Whitman,” I said, and I reached out to shake the witch’s hand. The man’s spine stiffened, making his posture almost too perfect. Great.
He’d probably just picked up on the fact that I was a succubus. Men tended to have one of two reactions to my nature. They were either very interested—like the big guy in the lobby—or very irritated. Control freaks especially didn’t appreciate my innate ability to distract them. No wonder I bothered Costa.
Natalie nodded to me. “This is Councilor Koslov.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said smoothly. Wonderful. A Covenant Councilor. Just what I needed to complete my day. I reached out to shake the Councilor’s hand. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your meeting.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance, Detective,” Koslov said, his voice the perfect professional pitch. He took my hand in his, shaking it, and I found myself studying him. For such an unremarkable-looking man, he had a bit of an aura about him. He was attractive in the way powerful men were, and he commanded attention. To my chagrin, I realized I was staring, and I glanced away. Damn politician. No wonder he was on the council. He had that bit of charisma that all the best statesmen possessed. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">