Page 99 of Death is Familiar

“So, the familiar, or someone on the events team is responsible,” Zhou offered. “Or they let it slip.”

I tried not to take offence to the agents referring to Jezebel by her role as familiar, rather than her name, or the blame being assigned to her.

“Lenore pays her staff for their discretion,” I countered, shifting in my seat because I could still feel the weight of Jack’s lingering gaze. He knew something was up, I was sure of it. “She’s not afraid to make a show of firing someone when they break the rules, so it’s not something that happens very often. And her familiar, Jezebel, is resourceful, clever, and capable, which could make her a suspect, yes, but she works with the vamps to prevent people from getting hurt. To make sure that Lenore’s vamps don’t take things too far. She wouldn’t do something like this.”

Todd nodded his support.

“Heard all about your familiar friend,” Zhou said. “But just because you trust her doesn’t mean she’s innocent in this. Friends have a way of letting people down.”

I trusted Jezebel with my life. More than once. But it sounded like Zhou had a different experience. Someone she trusted must’ve let her down, I’d put my money on it.

Kaatz elbowed Zhou. “Operating on little sleep, friend?”

Zhou’s fists were balled, her chest expanded like she had more to say, but let it go with a breath. “Isn’t it at all possible, that Delilah’s old network, the people at that pie place, are responsible?”

Jack’s voice held a warning tone, “Zhou.”

“What? I mean, think about it. Lenore’s familiar is the one who told us about the murders in Lexington, and Delilah’s old network tore cults apart, and their methods weren’t what I’d classify as above board.” Zhou searched for support in the room. “You can’t tell me no one else here thought it. Not even once?”

It was strange. The tension in the room shifted, like the tables were turning against Zhou. Todd grumbled beside me. Fawzy cocked her head. Jack leaned forward, fists on the table, waiting for my go-ahead to counter.

But Zhou had a right to ask these questions. She didn’t know what code those a part of Leslie’s Pies followed, or where we drew the line. We were paid to get people out of cults. I didn’t know everyone in the network, and there was a lot of room for individual license, but we didn’t cause destruction—kill people—because we didn’t understand their practices. And we sure as hell wouldn’t pre-meditate murder.

On the other hand, Zhou was right. It wasn’t like my work with Leslie’s Pies gave me a sterling reputation.

I’d stabbed people. Spiked their drinks and food. Seduced them into telling me their secrets, then used their secrets against them.

I could honor her curiosity, if only to dispel the notion my former network was at fault.

“It’s a fair question.” I chose my words carefully to unravel the tension coiling in the room. “Jezebel is in place to ensure Lenore and her team abide by the rules. No one else would have been assigned to the vamps, unless Jezebel requested assistance. We may take liberties with the law, but no one at the ‘pie place’ kills, unless it is in self-defense.”

Zhou scrunched her nose, and sunk back into her chair. I got the distinct impression she wanted to be mad, that she wanted to dispute what I said. But I’d given her idea acknowledgement, even if it didn’t allow her to place the blame on an organization so intrinsically tied to my past.

Ha, take that!

An almost unfamiliar glimmer of joy bubbled up inside. I kind of liked being the bigger person. It was fun watching people squirm at my benevolence.

“We are always open to new theories.” Jack’s voice was smooth, and thick, like honey. “But if you bring a new idea to the table, be sure to back it in evidence rather than blame.” He pushed off the table, righting himself. “With the suspects’ use of adrenaline, hallowed ground, and positioning of the victim’s bodies, the current theory stands. Vamp hunters are involved. Now, are there any updates on this aspect of the investigation?”

“Cyber did not find anything that could be tied to anti-vampire activity.” Fawzy flipped over a piece of paper in front of her. “But they noted anti-vampire activity would be much more difficult to trace. Besides the epinephrine, vampire hunting activities would not trigger any alarms. There is no specialized equipment. Whoever is killing familiars is keeping communications off of digital channels.”

“I didn’t find anything on socials, either,” Zhou added.

“Huntington’s population is less than fifty thousand.” Picking up the remote again, Thruppy advanced the slides to demonstrate the demographic breakdown of Huntington’s residents. “It’s large enough that not everyone knows each other, but small enough that an anti-vamp group could still hold significant sway.”

“Sounds very torch and pitchfork.”

Todd was right. It did. And chances were, it was.

But I didn’t have the opportunity to comment, because just then the door to the meeting room opened, and the conversation came to an abrupt stop.

The purpose of using the meeting room was to maintain confidentiality. There was an occupancy light outside to ensure that anyone entering knew the room was occupied and discussion was underway.

“Sorry, the room is in use,” Jack announced to our unexpected visitor.

“I know that Agent Hess,” Rochan slipped through the door as it shut with a click behind her. “Which is precisely why I’m occupying it.”

Jack and Todd remained unaffected by Rochan’s unexpected arrival. The other four agents, however, straightened. Sitting taller, spines pencil-straight, they looked like a team of teacher’s pets.