Page 46 of Death is Familiar

11

It was nearing on three in the morning, so to say Todd wasn’t overly amused at the prospect of doing just one more spin of the main floor was an understatement. He seemed to think that we’d gathered enough information for one evening, and that we had leads we could work on in the morning.

I begged to differ. So far, all that we had gotten from the gathering was the knowledge that vamps cherished their familiars, no one suspected anyone else in membership—or was willing to say so—and the vamps, despite how rich and extravagant they were, were judged to the point of receiving threats. The insights didn’t point us to anyone or anything, though having both Lenore and Jezebel at our disposal, and their willingness to share, was a definite win.

And… my spin revealed nothing.

Absolutely nothing. It was too late into the evening. People were too far gone with drink and the desperation of finding someone to hook up with before the night ended. Or dawn came, leaving the vamps to flee in the shadows.

My mission to find pretzels, however, was a success.

I chomped down three handfuls to fill the hollow hole in my stomach. The salt pulling at my cheeks, the bread soaked up the gnawing bile that crept up the back of my throat. If we left now, I felt confident I’d make it to the motel before things got worse. And I definitely did not need the agents to see me throwing up. Again.

Feeling rather like a grumpy passenger-carrying Cinderella at the ball, I needed to leave the gathering before I turned into a dry heaving mess. It was probably a bad idea to let Todd out of my sight when I needed a quick getaway. But I hadn’t been thinking that far ahead. Not when I had more urgent matters to attend to.

Jostled by drunk vamps and their guests, I crossed the floor in search of the lumbering FBI agent whose whole disappear into the crowd act was growing old. Next time, we’d need to come up with a signal to help us find each other—bird calls or something.

Maybe it was my three-in-the-morning brain, but cawing didn’t seem like such a bad idea. I got so far as opening my mouth, when I found a cue card on the floor.

My stomach dropped, as I picked it up and turned it over.

Silver.

Two steps later, another.

Holy water.

Not good.

The familiar sizzle of adrenaline seared through my veins as I shoved through the crowd. Todd must have dropped his cue cards. It was the only explanation—and he wouldn’t have done it on purpose. My heart pounded in my chest, worried that his fears were more than likely being realized. And if they were, it was all my fault. I was the one who brought him here.

I got a few “heys” and “watch its” as I continued to push through the swarm. I couldn’t care less. There was a reason I was dead-set on protecting Mr. Grumpy—whether he liked it or not— and now, now I was failing. The cue cards I collected off the floor were evidence enough of that. I needed to get Todd out of here. If I could just find the man⁠—

There was a commotion to my left. Someone had been backed against a wall, sending a vamp portrait clattering to the ground. Some vamp-on-prey group-play was unfolding. Six vamps crept forward, crowding whoever they had surrounded.

Most prey permitted entry to the inner sanctum were careful, hesitant, little things. They wouldn’t dare disrupt their surroundings for fear they’d never be invited in again. To have a portrait drop, one that had been so high on the wall, fed the worry that plagued my chest.

Drawn to the disorder, I pushed for a closer look, only to catch sight of a familiar shaven head and thick brows smack dab at the center of the vamps’ attentions.

Fuck.

It was Todd, who despite his intimidating presence, had been corralled against the wall. And people were touching him, petting him. Running their fingers over his face, his neck, his chest—and that was what I could see.

Where was the consent Lenore touted so virtuously? Because Todd sure as hell had not consented to this. In fact, his words, his power, had been taken from him.

I crushed the cue cards in my hands, the cool sharp edges of the paper rasping against my palms. It did nothing to couch the anger trembling my limbs, or the now sudden certainty I was going to be sick.

Todd didn’t deserve this. Any of it. And what was worse was he didn’t fight back, didn’t push anyone away as they thrust into his personal space. He could overpower everyone in the place, but he just stood there, letting it happen… my heart dropped.

Not only did he not want to do anyone harm because he was a decent human being, but he had a responsibility to the FBI to protect. Which meant his actions, even if in self-defense, would represent more than himself.

Well, if he wasn’t going to look after his own well-being, I was going to do it for him.

“Enough!” I stormed through the crowd and tore someone’s hands away from Todd’s chest, inserting myself between him and the handsy mob. “Silver! Holy water!”

“What? No, no, he likes it. See?” A drunk woman reached out to stroke his arm, but I smacked her hand away.

Bile curling in my throat, I did a quick assessment of Todd, only for my stomach to plummet.