Skinwalker (Jane Yellowrock #1)

Skinwalker (Jane Yellowrock #1) Page 41

“Coffee would be better,” he said, returning his gaze to my face.

“I have tea.”

He lifted one corner of his mouth and shrugged. “Tea it is then.”

He followed me to the door and I paused. No time like the present. “Let yourself in. Like you did last time”—I stepped back, giving him access to the door and lock—“when you came to snoop at the cameras.” He slanted a sharp look at me. I shrugged and added, to make sure he understood what I was saying, “And the time you came with your bloodsucking boss to wait for me in my dark house, hoping to pull some vamp crap and scare me.”

He thought about that for a moment, as the day grew even hotter and brighter and the flowers in the garden began to wilt and droop. “You angry about that?” he asked, sounding honestly curious. When I didn’t reply, he explained, “It’s part of the job as Leo’s security. You should understand that.”

“And if he told you to kill a little old lady, would you do that too?”

He thought about that, amusement lurking at the corners of his mouth. He shrugged by tilting his head to the side. “If she needed killing.”

He was serious. Ice shot through my veins. Beast crept forward. “And if she didn’t?”

“Then Leo wouldn’t want her killed.”

I snorted. It was a Beast sound, originating at the back of my throat, full of nostril movement and derision. When that was all I did, Bruiser turned and pulled a ring of keys from a pocket, chose one, and opened my door. I thought about ripping them out of his hand and feeding them to him, but why bother? His bloodsucking boss would just get more. I liked that term. Bloodsucking boss. Bet Leo would hate it when I used it on him.

Inside, I unstrapped and lay the Benelli and my helmet on the kitchen table. Followed them with gloves, neck collar, and various weapons. The crosses. As I removed steel and stakes, mud crusted off my jeans and pattered to the floor in little shushes. I could smell my sweat.

Bruiser set one hip on the table and watched as I divested myself of weapons. His eyes were hooded, but that small smile still played over his lips. He said, “Am I supposed to stick a dollar in your garter when you’re done?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. And Bruiser grinned. I set the kettle on to heat, then spooned Nilgiri Tiger Hill leaves into the strainer and set it inside the open mouth of the yellow ceramic pot. The tea was robust enough to maybe suit a coffee drinker. And it wasn’t so expensive that I’d care if I had to throw his out. I placed the teapot in the kitchen sink.

He took a chair, resting his forearms on the table. I noted that he instinctively took the seat to the side, so that window and front and side doors were within line of sight and the sun didn’t blind him. I got out mugs, a plate, spoons, and sugar, and sat at the foot of the table to his right. Second-best seating from a security standpoint.

“You want to tell me what happened this morning?” he asked.

I started to say that I heard screaming, it woke me up, and I rushed over. But I doubted that a human could have heard the screaming. I said, “I keep weird hours. I was awake, in the back garden, when I heard screaming. I grabbed a few weapons and raced over.”

“Naked.”

“What?”

“The girls said you were naked when you came through the door. Shotgun in hand. Crosses. Stakes.” A slow grin started. “Which had to be something to see.” His brow went up a notch. “Half an hour before sunrise, you were in the backyard.” Disbelief tainted the words, but so did something else. He added, softer, his smile widening, “Naked.”

“Meditating,” I said, fighting the blush that wanted to rise at the way he said “naked.” Like it was something wonderful, and he was sorry he had missed it. “On the rocks Katie got for me.”

“I heard about the rocks.”

“Did you inspect them too, while you were roaming around my house?”

“Not your house.”

My den, Beast growled, but I kept it inside. “For the moment it is. What were you looking for? Or do you just have an unnatural affection for broken cameras?” The kettle started that low hiss it does before it whistles.

He looked mildly surprised at the camera comments. Or maybe he was just surprised at me in general. “Boss wanted to know the hunter hired by the council.”

I scented the lie. It stank from his pores. And since we both knew that Leo, as head of the vamp council, had known exactly who I was before I was hired, the lie hid a secondary purpose. If I could figure it out. Silent, I considered his words. Remembering little things that had been said. Others that had not been said, but left hanging, unspoken.

I understood. Son of a gun. Leo was getting the feed from Katie’s security system. Probably everything, not just the cameras in this house. So why hadn’t he seen the rogue attack Katie this morning?

The whistle started low and rose in volume. While I thought, I stood and lifted the kettle off the flame, splashed boiling water over the teapot and into the strainer in its top, equalizing the temperature inside and out before filling the pot. I set it on the table, wrapping it in a tea cozy to keep it warm while it steeped. Bruiser’s eyebrows went up at the domestic motions. “Do you cook too?” he asked, the tone teasing. “ ’Cause any woman who does a weapon striptease, handles a Benelli like she knows how to use it, and can cook, pushes all my buttons.”

“I don’t cook,” I said, smiling when Beast showed me a stack of raw steaks. Bruiser smiled back, thinking I was flirting. Casually, while he was relaxed, I said, “Does Katie know Leo has access to her entire security system?” Bruiser went still. Gotcha. I smiled and twisted the knife a bit deeper. “Leo put a camera in Katie’s backyard. Makes sense for him to have access to all her security cameras, too.” Making a mental leap, I added, “I bet he has video from the security of all the vamps in the city. Maybe audio, too.” Bruiser’s face went hard. I unfolded the tea cozy and slipped the strainer full of leaves from the pot, setting it on the plate. Carefully, I poured tea into both mugs. “Sugar? Milk?” I asked sweetly.

After a moment he said, “Sugar,” the word clipped.

I put a heaping spoonful into each of our mugs and stirred both, the spoon making dull tinking sounds. Pushing his mug to him, I sat back with mine, letting the steam warm my face, the mug heat my fingers. “I’m not interested in vamp politics,” I murmured, watching him through slit lids, “except where it impacts my life and pocketbook. But I have a job to do, so I want answers. With cameras in place, why didn’t Leo know about the rogue vamp attack this morning until I called? And the attack on the Mearkanis master in her lair. Ming. Why didn’t he know and stop it? Unless he hopes to gain something from the deaths.” I took a chance and added, “Like worsening the schism developing in vamp politics. Like Leo’s little pals in the hood, armed to the teeth to hunt vamps.” Bruiser didn’t twitch or anything, but I could have sworn the skin tightened around his eyes. “Is Leo mounting his own rogue hunt? And if so, why?”

After a moment, Bruiser raised the mug and sipped, a delaying tactic while he thought. He was annoyed at my questions, but his expression mutated into a that-wasn’t-so-bad look at the taste of the tea. Finally, “I’ll tell you that, if you tell me how you found the cameras so fast. You didn’t even sweep for them,” he said, meaning an electronic sweep. “You just went right to them. I know. I checked the digital footage when the system told us they had gone out.”

I actually considered it, half wanting to see what he’d say when I told him I sniffed them out. But I had figured something out when he mentioned digital surveillance and a system sophisticated enough to send out notification when there were problems. I said, “No deal.”

This was Leo’s city, Leo’s people. He treated them like a feudal lord would serfs, so I wasn’t surprised he spied on them. And cameras in all the houses and lairs meant a huge system, one he checked only when there was a problem, trend, or power play. Probably not many vamps discovered the surveillance, unless they hired outside people—young outside people, independent security experts, not hundred-year-old human blood-servants—to look into safety measures. I had expected vamps to be mostly like Katie, lost in changing technology, but Leo seemed okay with modern devices, relying on them, which I figured was odd for an elder.

Then something hit me and left me feeling really stupid. “If Leo has video footage of Ming and Katie being attacked, then he knows who the rogue is. I want to see the footage.”

Bruiser shook his head. “Not in Ming’s lair. He didn’t know where she slept. That’s why it wasn’t discovered until evening, when her human servant went to check on her.” He sipped his tea, his eyes considering me over the rim. He set the mug on the table, turned it slightly in the fingers of both hands, as if making sure the handle was pointed just so. “Of the five vampires attacked, all were taken in their lairs. No footage. Katie was the only one taken in her place of business, and the rogue disabled her system before we got any footage.”

Five vamps attacked? Crap. They didn’t tell me that. “No video or pictures of him at all?” Bruiser shook his head, his eyes on me. “I saw him . . . when he attacked Katie.”

Bruiser went still, much like a vamp did. Must be the long association.

“He’s five-eleven in shoes. Long, straight black hair. Dark skin for a vamp.” I could see Bruiser cataloguing the vamps he knew, his eyes moving from one of my eyes to the other, back and forth, as I spoke. “Hawkish nose. No facial hair. Coppery skin makes him South Asian or American Indian. I’m betting AmIn. When he’s feeding, he has upper and lower fangs.” Bruiser’s eyes widened at the dual fang comment. “How many local vamps fit the description?” I asked. “And how many local vamps have disappeared in the last year or so? Beginning, say, a month before the first human victims turned up dead or disappeared?”