The next two days passed without incident. Donnelly had gone underground, lulling them into a false sense of security with little or no leads to go on. Without their resident tech genius, the team was reduced to old-school methods of trying to track down any sniff of where Donnelly could be hiding out. All leads ran cold, frustration was beginning to set in, and darkness was festering within the group.
“How bloody hard could this actually be?” Ricky exclaimed as he slammed shut his laptop. “You’d think there’d be some clue as to where this asshat is hiding.”
Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “Donnelly’s covered his tracks extremely well, Ricky. No properties in his name or his alias, no properties in any family name, nothing. He sold all his estates and has no active bank accounts. Unless the rat surfaces, it kills me to say that we might never track him down.”
Ricky’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood and fled the room, citing a need for air. Derek scrubbed his hand down his face. Man, he was tired. The residual sedative was lingering in his system. He had made sure that Ricky had injected him with the sedative because he wasn’t sure if he could manage the wolf under the circumstances, so he had spent most of the last two nights knocked out for everyone’s protection. Ever had slept in the room next door to him, not wanting to leave the station in case a break in the case came.
But after two long days, they were no further to catching Donnelly. The newest member of their team, Erika, was tracking down some former associates of Donnelly’s but with half the team out of action, Derek felt they were stretched too thin. He couldn’t help but glance over at Ever, who was huddled over files that she had read repeatedly. Not that she needed to—her impressive ability to recall things meant she had all of Donnelly’s actions ingrained in her memory.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked as he strode over to Ever while she dredged through the paperwork.
She smiled up at him, and something constricted in his chest.
“Yeah, just pissed off that we know who he is but can’t get a clue as to where he might be.”
“I think everyone echoes that feeling at the moment.”
“I should be asking how you’re feeling,” Ever said as she leaned back in her chair. “I mean, you’ve be injected with more sedative over the last few days than humanly possible. How’s your wolf after all that?”
Leaning against the edge of the desk, Derek sighed. “More than humanly possible? Suppose it’s a good thing I’m not human anymore.”
An amused snort that he wrung from Ever delighted his wolf.
“He’s a little ticked off at not having been able to stretch his legs and run, but once this is done and we have Donnelly in custody, I’ll let the wolf be a wolf for a few days to appease him. At least the change will be on my terms, not his.”
“Sounds nice.”
“And then once I’ve dealt with the wolf… you and me, we’ll have our date.”
Derek watched Ever chew on the inside of her mouth before she went to answer, but her reply was cut off as a very weary-looking Caitlyn trudged through the doors. Ever had never seen someone supernatural look so ill. Her normally porcelain skin appeared whitewashed, dark sunglasses hiding her eyes. There seemed to be a frailness to her now, and Caitlyn was anything but frail. Thinner than she had been only a few days ago, the poor vampire looked as if she were about to keel over, bite marks littering her throat.
“Caitlyn! Here—sit down.” Derek dashed over to his teammate and for once, the vampire took his assistance without a word. Easing herself into the chair, Caitlyn removed her glasses, and Ever gasped. Her once slate eyes were now a hazy grey with tinges of red. A yellow bruise shaded just below her eye socket, as if she were healing from a fist to the face.
“I apologize if I frighten you, Ever. Unfortunately, I’m not at full strength at the moment.”
“God, Caitlyn, you look like hell,” Derek blurted.
“And you are a charmer as usual, mon loup.”
Derek shook his head. “How’s Melanie?”
Caitlyn let her lashes lower, brushing her cheekbones before she sighed and opened her eyes once again. “She’s as well as can be expected. It’s difficult the first few days, dealing with the Hunger and accepting your new life. She has been reborn as a vampire, but she needs a little time to adjust to the changes needed in her life.”
“And the shiner?”
“A gift from Melanie after I explained what had happened to her. It’s fine. It’ll heal before the morning sun rises.”
They lapsed into silence, nobody really knowing what to say. Derek got Caitlyn caught up on what few details they had gathered on the case, and Ever busied herself with the files on the table. Despite having read through them numerous times, they were unable to gather any useful information from the data. Tracking the phone was useless; Donnelly had discarded that as soon as the call was over. Derek wondered if Ever longed for the security of her classroom, relaying the stories of the crimes committed and solved, not being a main character in the twisted plotline.
The door swung open hard, smacking against the wall as a red-faced Ricky stormed in. “Cait, how’s Lanie? Is she all right? When can I see her? Are you okay? Christ, girl, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck!”
Derek shook his head at his partner as Sarge walked up and clasped the warlock on the shoulder.
“Take a breath, Ricky, and let the girl have a minute. If anything bad had happened to Melanie, I’m sure that’s the first thing she’d have said, right, Caitlyn?”
Derek noticed a flash of emotion in the vampire’s eyes, but he was sure everyone else was too preoccupied to notice. They shared a look, and Derek nodded, understanding that some things just didn’t need to be said. Derek wasn’t sure that Ricky could fully comprehend how different Melanie would be now. He had been born into his powers; Caitlyn, Donnie, and himself were all made supernatural in blood and death. And sometimes, those nightmares lived with you no matter how old you became.
Caitlyn rubbed her temple, tiredness showing anew in her face.
“She came through the change well. It’ll take her time to adjust. Not only has she to deal with her torture, but now she’s also a vampire. As I told Derek, she will have a tough battle ahead of her. The Hunger, it is not a pleasant thing to deal with, especially for a baby vampire.”
Caitlyn paused, and Ricky launched into another tirade of questions, despite an imploring look from Derek. His friend didn’t seem to care about how affected Caitlyn was after what had happened. It wasn’t out of malice, but rather, pure need to know that Melanie was going to be all right.
Caitlyn held up a hand. “Please, Ricky. Melanie will be fine. She just needs time. And you cannot see her for a while. She is too volatile and unpredictable to be around anyone she could break right now. Donnie’s with her, and she seems to be calm in his presence. Mine only angers her now. Once she is calm and has a hold on her Hunger, then we can see, but she’s not ready to be around those she cares for. She would never forgive herself if she hurt one of you.”
Shoulders slumping, Ricky mumbled something incoherent and walked over to his own desk. He pulled out Melanie’s laptop bag and handed it to Caitlyn. “Here, give her this. It might make her feel more herself to have a familiar item. Tell her I took good care of it and that I’ll see her soon.”
He left the room then, and Derek made to follow him but Sarge shook his head.
“Leave him be. He has a lot to process. We’ll get more out of him once he makes sense of it all in his head.”
“Who could make sense of all this?”
Sarge made no effort to answer him, turning to Caitlyn and holding the vampire’s gaze. “Caitlyn, you should get some rest and feed. If Donnelly pokes his head above ground, we will need you. Can Donnie leave Melanie by herself, or will one of you need to be there?”
With a timid shake of her head, Caitlyn replied, “No, I’ve security at my home and can lock her inside. I can call Donnie and tell
him to settle her and come here. We’ve work to do.”
“Do that. But get some rest first, please. And the please was just to be polite, Agent—it wasn’t a request.”
A breathtaking smile lightened Caitlyn’s face, giving everyone a glimpse of her true self. Despite the fact she was definitely a tough cookie, few people saw her for who she really was and appreciated her strength.
“Yes, sir. I’ll ring Donnie on my way downstairs.” She cast her gaze to Derek. “You will wake me should you find Donnelly or I’m needed at home?”
Derek bobbed his head. “Of course.”
Caitlyn rose and bowed her head in their general direction, stopping at the door as if to say something before heading out.
When the door closed behind her and Caitlyn was far enough out of earshot, Derek blew out a breath. “Damn Sarge, if it takes that out of Caitlyn, then I never want to know how you actually make a vampire.”
Sarge leaned back against the window. “But you understand, Derek. You hardly ever talk about how you became a werewolf.”
“And bore you all with details? I was bitten, I died—sort of—and became this. No need to dredge up the past.” Derek indicated to himself. In truth, Derek never talked about what happened to him because his first ten years as a werewolf had been anything but pleasant. Only a few were aware of the horror he had witnessed under the cruel reign of his once-alpha, and he’d sworn, on the day he had blooded Neville in order to win his freedom, that his family would never find out what he had been up to on his ten years gone. They’d been through enough.
Realizing he had been silent for too long, Derek deserted thoughts of blood and grief and focused on the present. Neither Sarge nor Ever mentioned his lack of conversation, having returned to the task. He went and sat at his own desk, rifling through the file he had put together on Donnelly. Derek had to hand it to Donnelly—he was smart and resourceful. How had he managed to stay within the confines of the city without drawing the attention of a single officer on the hunt for him? He let his eyes scan over the pages as he tried to get an accurate picture of who Stephen Donnelly was.
Stephen Donnelly was a thirty-two-year-old nurse who had worked at the Cork Hospital Children’s Ward since he’d graduated from nursing college six years ago. Donnelly, diagnosed with an inoperable tumor in his brain, had petitioned Chester Birmingham to be made on seven different occasions.
According to the notes Donnie had written up, Donnelly had reacted violently to Chester’s unwillingness to make him a vampire. But Chester only wanted to make the beautiful or unique his vampires, and Stephen Donnelly was anything but unique. Staring at the picture of the reddish-brown-haired murderer, Derek considered him just another face in the crowd, unable to stand out. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him, and Chester would have reveled in turning the dying man down.
Faced with ridicule and fear of death, Donnelly had turned to murdering innocent teens in order to fight the disease that corrupted his head. But the rot that festered inside him would never excuse the horror he had inflicted on those kids and the nightmares poor Chrissy would live with.
Derek snapped his head up as he heard Ever gasp. She looked up from the computer screen, her blue eyes wide in surprise. Ever tapped her screen.
“Dr. Val emailed over Donnelly’s medical and personnel files. According to this, Donnelly was a sensitive.”
Derek banged his fist down on the desk. “That’s how he knew. That’s how he knew they were supernatural and maturing.”
“Apparently, the hospital used his ability to treat some patients who came in with unusual injuries before the big reveal. Those who were in the know helped him to hone his ability. Trained him to sniff out a supe. Goddammit.
“According to Dr. Val’s file,” Ever continued, “his parents noticed it when he was a child and he started to tell them that a vampire lived next door. His parents took him to a psychiatrist because they thought he was a little strange. They drugged him to try and keep the ‘voices’ at bay. It was only when the big reveal happened did they realize that Mr. Hayashi was actually a centuries-old vampire from Japan.”
Derek growled, the sound vibrating throughout his limbs. “Most sensitives use their gift to help others. I know a few who run an anti-bullying charity to help supes feel less like outsiders in mainstream schools. But Donnelly didn’t have a chance. He spent most of his life thinking we were the cause of his ‘illness’, and then used as a locater by the hospital. Man, if I were him, forced to point us out and then refused saving when I was told I was dying, I’d probably hate all things supernatural as well, and I might use my gift to hunt down teens in the hope of curing myself, too.”
Ever folded her arms on the desk in front of her. “I think Chester’s repeated refusal to make him was the final straw. There he was, a dying, desperate man who wanted all his life to be supernatural, and there was no chance of him surviving. I assume that Chester’s rebuttal was less than courteous.”
Sarge cleared his throat. “Chester likes to assert his power over those he views as weak. He runs most of the vampires in Cork and rules with an iron fist. He’s a sadistic old git, but he has kept the murder rate within the vampire community down since he came to power. He might be a disgusting, immoral SOB, but he’s a productive one.”
Pacing the room, Derek was close to losing all sense of reason. He’d lied to Ever when he told her that he had the wolf under control. He was still lobbying for control despite the full moon’s end. The wolf wanted the taste of blood and the feel of flesh between its teeth. The prey had hurt one under his protection, and there would be no forgiveness; he would not be taken alive.
While Derek was loathe to agree with the other half of himself, the wolf had a point. Did Donnelly deserve to be sent to prison and protected against the murderers and criminals who thought it wrong to harm a child? He would be dead soon enough anyway, the rot in his brain decaying until he died a painful death. But Derek and the wolf’s death would hurt a hell of a lot more, and something dark and twisted in him felt his blood surge at the thought of it. He had the capacity to let the darkness overcome him, and on days when he welcomed it—invited it, almost—Derek was certain he could become the hunted rather than the hunter.
The door opened, jerking Derek back to the present. Ricky came back into the squad room with his shoulders hunched and a defeated look on his face. He headed straight for Sarge, and the two of them huddled in the corner, whispering. Ever didn’t doubt that even though her human hearing couldn’t hear a word, that Derek’s could. She studied him as he continued to pace, his ears twitching slightly as he listened to Ricky and Sarge’s conversation.
When he spied Ever watching him, Derek had the good graces to blush for a moment. He pulled the chair from his desk over and set it down beside Ever’s with the back facing her. He hunkered himself down and rested his arms on the back of the chair. Twisting slightly in her chair so that she faced him, Ever gave him a little smile as he scrubbed his face with his hand. He looked tired, but since he hadn’t had a proper, non-drug-induced sleep for a couple of days, that was to be expected.
Her fingers reached out without her being conscious of it and traced the underline of his jaw. He closed his eyes and sighed. Her petting brought him some pleasure. His eyes opened a second later, the hazel of his eyes now mixed with amber as both wolf and man looked back at her. Her own pulse quickened as she continued to dust her knuckles over the stubble.
“I really should shave,” he said finally.
“Nah, I like it. You seemed too clean-cut before. This is the real you. Wild but calm. Rugged but stable. Not like the Mr. Stuck-up Agent I met a few days ago.”
He chuckled. “Has it really been only a few days? I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”
Reluctantly, Ever pulled her hand away from Derek’s face. Leaning back in her seat, she bit back a smirk as she tried to calm her pulse and remember that they had a job to do. “My mother used to say that I had an ol
d soul. That from the day she first laid eyes on me, I stared back at her, and she was pretty certain she could see the universe reflected in my eyes.” She felt her lips tug up at the corners as she spoke of Samhain. “I laughed and told her that she only felt that way because she had yearned for a child for so long. Whether it had been me or another infant, Samhain would have seen the universe in their eyes because being a mother was the universe for Samhain.”
“You never told me about the new dreams you’ve been having. I’m curious to know what dreams you’ve had about me.” With a lopsided grin and a fluttering of those beautiful lashes, Derek tried to coax from Ever what had put shadows in her eyes for the last few days.
Ever shook her head as Erika paraded through the door, a mischievous grin on her ruby red lips.
“So, who might just have found the impossible and is the most awesome person ever?” She paused for dramatic effect, and then curtsied. “Me, that’s who.”
That little statement had everyone’s attention. When the new girl did not attempt to carry on, Derek growled, and she scowled.
“Buzzkill,” she muttered before she told the rest of them what she had found. “Okay, so I called up a friend of mine who specializes in genealogy and family trees. She has access to birth, death, and marriage records, so she put Stephen Donnelly’s name into her system and went to work. She was able to confirm that both Stephen’s parents died almost four years ago, and that his mother and father had no siblings.”
“And how is this helpful?” Ricky snorted.
“Because up until a year ago, Donnelly thought he had no immediate family. But apparently, Donnelly’s grandfather had been a very naughty boy, and Donnelly’s father had a half sister who was like twenty years older than he was. She kept her mother’s surname, and Donnelly didn’t know about her until he was contacted by a lawyer to confirm that dear ol’ Auntie June had left him a massive farm just outside the city.”
“And why did we not find any records of the property?” Ricky interrupted once again.
“If you let me finish,” she said and sighed. “Anyway, Donnelly had already been told he was dying, so he took the keys but never changed the name on the deeds. We couldn’t find the property because there is only one record to prove that Donnelly had an illegitimate aunty—the paper he signed when receiving the keys.”
“And I take it you have the address?”
Erika’s grin widened. “But of course. Aunty June had a secluded farm in Watergrasshill. Shall we go?”