Page 167 of Death is Familiar

The main floor felt like a breath of fresh air by comparison, the weather temperate enough to allow all the windows and doors to be open. Every now and then candles would flicker on the gentle fall breeze. The foliage set ablaze by the setting sun in fiery rust, chestnut, and copper, I walked the expansive cobblestone patio overlooking the reservoir to admire the view, just for minute, when I spotted the pool.

Who in their right mind had their pool open in October? In New York State?

Steam pooling in heated clouds above the surface, it must have been open at special request of the vamps because the lights under the surface stained the water a deep blood red. Haunting and immeasurably deep, mist clung to the top of the water, wafting off in slow curling waves.

Not going to lie, it kind of seemed like a health and safety hazard to have around the vamps, especially when drink was involved. But it did set the mood.

Once my scan of the property was complete, I set up to make myself useful.

Although I was no longer going to be on the receiving end of the vamp’s bite—Fawzy subbed in to take my place because protocol dictated my passenger-carrying status too risky to be in the potential line of fire—I still had a role to play.

And plans to make.

There were only three people who knew of the FBI’s involvement in the fang ceremony: Lenore, Jezebel, and the vamp selected as part of tonight’s fang ceremony.

“It’s a pity I won’t have the pleasure of biting you tonight.” Carmen sauntered over, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “But I can see things have changed, No-one-of-consequence.”

“What could you possibly be referring to?” Two could play at this game.

She observed Todd standing, surveilling the floor from the curved stairwell. “I wouldn’t mind calling him daddy…”

“Carmen.”

“What? Look at him, that is a man exuding responsibility and jealousy right there.”

“He’s not jealous.”

A crimson-stained smirk. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Todd wasn’t meant to be the focus of our discussion. Time for a change of subject. “Thank you again for helping. I know this isn’t the reason you joined Lenore’s little club.”

“Slights on Lenore’s ‘little club’ aside.” She circled me like a shark circling its prey. “I’ll have you know I am notorious for my generosity. Given my net worth, I run a number of philanthropic endeavors to keep myself busy.”

“Are you trying to impress me with how much money you have?”

“Was, clearly it’s not working.” She ran the backs of her fingers over the side of my arm, then cocked a brow. “Perhaps because I’m not a broody tattooed giant?”

“The broody tattooed giant is a friend.” Who was risking his career for me. “He’s not rich.”

“No, but he is.” Jack rounded the corner speaking to someone on the phone, the accuracy of her claim must’ve been plain on my face as she added, “Money can sense money, darling.”

I shut my emotions down. If Carmen sensed any tension or ties between me and Jack, trouble would ensue, and I was supposed to be prepping her for the mission.

Sighing, Carmen crossed her arms and cocked out her hip. “Half the fun of being a vamp is getting to flirt and speak my mind. The least you could do is flirt back.”

“Carmen.” Flirting was not in my repertoire, but I was good at reading people, so I leaned forward, grazing her folded bicep as I whispered, “we’ve got killers to catch. And I for one would be happy to know your head is in the game, and not on making people jealous.”

“Why can’t it be a little of both?”

“This isn’t like throwing knives at a gathering, this isn’t a game.” I must’ve spent far too much time with the agents. I was starting to sound like them. “Here lives are at risk, and whoever is behind this will be paying attention to you. Every move you make will be watched.”

“I know that darling, why else do you think I volunteered?”

†

The irony wasn’t lost on me that dealing with Carmen, telling her to be careful, gave me a taste of my own medicine. Normally, I was the one the agents told to take care of myself and to not do anything reckless. In fact, when the agents ran through the plans and the protocol before our arrival at the mansion, I was reminded several times to not put myself in any dangerous or precarious situations.

I was to observe and report back. Listen to orders as they were given. And under absolutely no circumstances was I to follow, confront, restrain, kick, punch, slap, or otherwise engage with anyone I perceived to be a threat, unless in self-defense. A sentiment which was repeated ad nauseum, along with a long laundry list of activities the FBI could and could not do as part of the evening’s sting operation.