For the murder, p.16
For the Murder, page 16
Diana’s mouth dropped open, poised to question further, but Nobu walked away. She didn’t sit down until he picked up a pool cue, and when she sat, she instantly found Sasha’s eyes. He knew curiosity ate her alive, but Nobu’s story wasn’t his to tell. Besides, Whitaker could’ve been wrong.
He needed to change the subject.
“Is wandering into Jacques’s den worth it, Diana?” Sasha watched her intently. “Do the benefits outweigh the risks?”
She tucked her lip between her teeth. “If I get the knife, my family—”
“No.” He leaned forward over the table and looked at her from beneath the loose strands of hair hanging in his eyes. “Do the benefits outweigh the risks for you?”
Diana ran a hand down her face. “Probably not.”
The waitress graced the edge of their table with a pair of baskets: one with mozzarella sticks and another with fries. Diana wasted no time in picking up the fried cheese and cramming it in her mouth. Madame had forced him to commit many unsavory acts over the years, but turning over Charles Van Doren to the demon would almost be a reward.
Meanwhile, Sasha couldn’t find anything to say in response. Diana knew she stood to gain nothing but an early grave for her trouble, yet she fought to get Sheturath anyway? She was willing to lose the one life she had to help people who didn’t deserve her attention, much less her sacrifice.
It was asinine. Illogical. Foolish in every conceivable way.
Yet Sasha couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have someone like that in his corner. Someone who fought for him on the days he didn’t deserve it. Someone who saw good when there wasn’t any.
He dared himself to think what he’d been purposefully ignoring.
What would it be like to have someone like Diana?
As he tried to banish the thought, another one he loathed more invaded his psyche: did he still want to betray Diana and join the leagues of people who’ve always used her? The ones who’d made her incapable of seeing how good she was?
I’m trash, Sasha.
Sasha bit the inside of his cheek, partially to keep from scowling and partially because he deserved the pain.
TWENTY-THREE
DIANA
After days of reconnaissance and driving around, they finally found Jacques’s house in a farming community about an hour outside Philadelphia. Diana wasn’t impressed. For someone with enough money to buy Sheturath, the vampire didn’t seem to care about taking care of his house. His windows probably hadn’t been cleaned since they were installed, and the paint had started to peel from the siding. While the home was surrounded by oceans of cornfields, the two-story building could still be seen from the road.
They’d also run into several witches during their search. As Sasha predicted, the witch from the bar hadn’t been the last of them. After he questioned her about Jacques, she directed them north. Her information led them to a young witch, probably no older than Nobu, and she pointed them to another witch who ran a general store.
Now they sat parked a mile down the road from the vampire’s den beside a mess of dead corn.
Diana climbed into the car and rubbed her arms before sticking her red nose to the heater. They were on day three of casing the place. She’d been flying around the property all morning looking for ways in and out, and it was too damn cold for it. Not the way she imagined spending Christmas this year. Although, spending it with her parents wasn’t great either.
“Has anything changed?” Sasha asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He did that a lot, she noticed.
“No.” Diana shook her head. “Nothing went in or out. No movement in the windows, but they all have curtains.”
“Feel anything?” Natsu had already taken Nobu’s place and hopped onto the console. The cat hadn’t spoken to them much since they started observing Jacques’s farm. A complete one-eighty from the morning Diana met him. He was probably still peeved about their botched foray into Whitaker’s mansion.
Diana huffed into her hands. So. Cold. “No. But I imagine you’ll have an easier time.”
“While we’ve seen no change in the exterior of the home, it does tell us some things about what is likely inside.” Sasha kept his gaze forward and fingers tapping. “Since Jacques hasn’t left the property, we can assume he has some form of sustenance.”
“Ew. Like people?” Diana grimaced as her stomach turned. She did not want to run into any corpses.
“That is likely.” Sasha didn’t seem to feel any particular way about the possible bodies. “While he is old and can survive without fresh blood for a time, he just returned from Texas. His routine and regular food supply wouldn’t have been readily available to him for at least twenty-four hours. He’s probably trying to recoup.”
“We should watch the house again tonight to be certain.” Natsu turned and smacked her in the face with a flick of his tail.
“We need to wait and go inside during the day though.” Diana shrugged and watched the sun. “Going in while Jacques is awake would be stupid.”
“Jacques is old. He is not bound by the sun.” Sasha paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, he’s not bound like his younger counterparts would be. He can survive indoors outside his coffin during the daylight hours. Stand in the shade. He could probably survive in broad daylight for a few moments if he had no choice. That means we can’t rely on the sun to save us.”
“So he’ll always be around.” Diana frowned and held her stiff fingers in front of the heater instead.
“He’ll have to leave to go find more blood eventually.” Sasha kept his eyes from Natsu. He apparently still didn’t trust the demon. “Perhaps waiting until that moment would be best.”
Diana groaned. “It’s so freaking cold. I’m tired of flying around.”
“If we don’t plan this carefully, you’ll be dead.” Sasha gave her a look. “It’s worth the extra time in the air.”
“Coming from the guy without wings.”
Sasha shrugged. “We each have our own uses. Yours happens to be the most beneficial to our goal at this time.”
“Whatever.” Diana cast a glance toward the back of the car. “If we’re going to keep this up, I need a nap.”
After a look from Natsu, she opened the door and let him out. The cat hopped onto the dead grass and narrowly missed a patch of ice left behind from the snowstorm. Did demons feel cold? If not, she should make Natsu do all the reconnaissance.
“Thank you.” The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. She’d been wanting to thank Natsu since Whitaker’s house, but he’d been so elusive she never had the chance.
The demon turned around. How did he feel about her gratitude? Reading a cat’s face for cues was impossible. “I’m not going to risk the kid like that again.”
Diana nodded. “I don’t want you to.”
Natsu dipped his head a moment before bounding off toward Jacques’s farmhouse.
As she retreated into the back seat of the car, Natsu’s words hung in her mind. Did the cat care about Nobu, or did he care about Nobu’s body? While she hoped for the former, Diana also knew not to expect much from demons. She’d never met a nice one. Not that she’d met many in the first place.
Diana settled in the center of the back seat, positioned behind the console. Sasha watched her in the rearview mirror. Why? She didn’t have a clue. But the sudden creep of heat settling beneath her eyes certainly didn’t help anything.
Trying to will the scorch on her face away, Diana cleared her throat. It didn’t work. “If Natsu is immune to Jacques’s bite and can protect Nobu, why do we need to go in at all?”
Her voice broke Sasha’s concentration on the mirror. Instead, he relaxed in his seat and closed his eyes. He looked peaceful. Not at all concerned about trying to dupe an old, powerful vampire. “Natsu can protect Nobu from the venom. He cannot keep Jacques from tearing off the kid’s head.”
Her stomach flipped. “Did you have to say it like that?”
Sasha’s eyes remained closed. “It is accurate. To say it any other way would be inefficient.”
Inefficient. A complete antithesis of the man if she ever heard one. Diana huffed and peeled off her jacket. It would make a fine pillow. Better than the buckle of the seat belt anyway.
A phone rang. Sasha’s phone.
Sasha opened his eyes and glanced at the screen. She watched him stare at it, unmoving. Who was it, and why wouldn’t he answer? Diana sat up a little and peeked over his shoulder.
The damn screen was in Cyrillic.
Her mind went in several directions. She still didn’t know who Sasha worked for. He was a gunslinging clairvoyant who could get a thirty minute face-to-face with Whitaker due to whoever it was that employed him. The possibility that someone dangerous could be on the other end made her palms sweat despite her recent foray in the chill outside.
But the longer she stared at him, the idea of someone loathsome calling Sasha ebbed. His face softened as he looked at the text on his screen. Something—maybe relief—flooded his eyes. It struck her with an astounding amount of force that whoever it happened to be, Sasha cared about them.
The robot had a heart in his chest somewhere.
Diana waited until the phone stopped ringing to speak. “Who was that?”
Sasha dropped the phone in the cupholder, gaze hard again. “No one.”
Right.
“Sister?” Diana took a breath. “Wife?”
As selfish as it was, she hoped it wasn’t a wife. Another woman probably wouldn’t like Diana’s magic staking a claim on her husband.
Sasha glanced over his shoulder. “Mother.”
The muscles in her shoulders relaxed a bit. “You miss her.”
“I do.” His answer, firm and unquestionable like everything else, sounded strange coming from his mouth given his general lack of compassion.
Diana leaned onto the console. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Twenty years ago.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Why haven’t you gone back?” She hated the lingering dread that wrapped itself around her neck. If he’d gone twenty years without seeing his own mom, whom he clearly cared for, why would he allow her to tag along if she told him that her magic bonded with his? The answer came all too easily: he probably wouldn’t. “Whoever you work for obviously pays well, so I imagine money isn’t the issue.”
“It isn’t.”
Diana closed her eyes and took a measured breath. Was he always this difficult?
“Can’t be convenience. Your boss flew us here on a private plane.” Diana leaned farther over the center console and propped herself on her forearms.
With an uncharacteristic sigh, Sasha finally looked at her. He didn’t seem annoyed, but then again, he never seemed any which way. “Convenience has nothing to do with it.”
“Then what is it?”
His gaze never left her face. She’d leaned close enough to feel his body heat without touching him, and the thought made her increasingly aware of her heartbeat. Sasha’s gaze raked over her face. “Why does this matter to you?”
Diana flinched at his tone. She’d never heard so much irritation in Sasha’s voice. She didn’t move from her place on the console though, which was undeniably reckless. Instead, she cocked her head to the side, putting her temple much closer to his arm than necessary. “Because it’s sad. I can tell you miss her. So—go see her. I’m sure she misses you too.”
Sasha turned away and faced the windshield, which left her feeling lonely despite him not actually going anywhere.
Diana fell back into her seat again, both embarrassed and confused. If Sasha missed his mother, and his mother missed him, their continued separation didn’t make sense. He had the money and the means to get back to Russia. Given the inordinate amount of time he’d spent thus far on getting her knife, the hours in the day weren’t the problem either.
Maybe he was just stubborn.
“If someone missed me, I’d go to them in a heartbeat,” she said, voice heavy. “If I die during this vampire thing, you know who would care? No one. Literally no one would give a shit.” Diana made sure to keep her eyes elsewhere, but she could feel Sasha looking at her. “You have someone that cares, and you’re wasting it.”
He said nothing, and she was glad. Stubborn butthole.
“I’m going to take a nap.” Diana stared at the back of Sasha’s head. His gaze was on the steering wheel now. “You should call your mom back.”
Sasha didn’t answer her, which wasn’t terribly surprising. Diana slumped down onto the seat and smashed her jacket under her head for a makeshift pillow. She wrapped her arms over her chest and brought her knees closer to her stomach. Taking advantage of her time to sleep would be the only way she’d survive another night of surveilling Jacques.
As a chill racked her body, something warm fell over her arms. Diana opened her eyes, surprised to see Sasha turned around in his seat, leaning over the console and draping his suit jacket over her torso. His eyes, carefully diverted from hers, focused on the fabric as it fell against her arms and neck.
He pulled his hands away all too soon and plucked his cell phone from the cupholder. Diana tugged the jacket closer to her face and burrowed in the warmth and comfort of his scent. She didn’t know what it was he smelled like, something woodsy and warm mixed with a hint of cigarettes, but something about it calmed her.
“Merry Christmas, Sasha.”
Hand faltering on the door handle, he paused but didn’t say anything. After a moment, he opened the door and stepped out.
Diana, despite his silence, smiled against the fabric of his suit jacket. Maybe Sasha wouldn’t make a bad murder after all.
TWENTY-FOUR
SASHA
Dusk had fallen upon them, and Sasha desperately hoped Jacques would finally leave the confines of his home to hunt. It had been four days since they’d made the plan in the car—which meant seven agonizing days of staring at Jacques’s farmhouse—and he was ready for it to be over. The vampire would have to come out eventually to eat, or he’d starve. It was just a matter of when.
He turned in his seat and glanced at the bunched-up body passed out in a heap. Diana had been asleep for almost three hours now, soft snores pressing past her lips as she burrowed farther into her makeshift cocoon. Being in close proximity for a week had done something to him. Something that Sasha was pretty sure he liked but couldn’t put a finger on.
He’d given her his jacket again. She’d never asked him for it, but after the first instance four days ago, he kept peeling it off and draping it on her sleeping body. He didn’t think she noticed at first, but he’d always later see her bringing it close, tucking it below her nose.
For the first time in his life, he’d brought someone comfort instead of pain.
Sasha forced himself to look away. Too much thought into something that ultimately didn’t matter wouldn’t get him what he wanted.
In the dark, beyond the road and from the ocean of dead corn, Natsu emerged, bounding toward the car. Normally, the cat lazily walked back to them, sometimes stopping to stretch his legs.
It must be time.
Sasha opened the door and met Natsu along the side of the car. A brisk wind wrapped him up tight, but adrenaline had already started to replace the relative boredom the past week of surveillance had brought him. Once they got the knife out of Jacques’s house, his freedom would be all but won.
His heart lurched, and he cast a glance toward the car where Diana slept.
As much as he hated to think it, getting his freedom no longer presented itself so easily.
“He’s gone. Watched him take off into the field.” Natsu walked up to him, keeping a careful distance. “Since vampires are technically dead, I won’t be able to feel him come back if we’re still inside. If we’re going to steal it, we need to go now.”
“Agreed.” Sasha walked to the back of the car and popped the truck. If the vampire returned, he’d need stakes. He’d brought two with him—one for him and one for Diana.
Natsu followed him to the truck. “I’ve already told the crow, but I’m going to tell you too. I won’t risk the kid again.”
“I’m surprised you did the first time. In my experience, demons don’t tend to risk mutilating their hosts beyond repair.”
“And pray tell, what is your experience?”
Sasha slammed the trunk shut. “I grew up with demons, and I’ll be honest—your end game…I can’t see it.”
“This may come as a surprise to you, but not all demons are the same.”
“They have been in my experience.”
“Perhaps your experience is narrow.” Natsu turned toward the house and flicked his tail. “Get the crow. We need to hurry.”
Sasha didn’t much care to be bossed around by the demon cat, but Natsu was right. Their window of opportunity was slim. He opened the back seat, expecting Diana to be up and ready.
She wasn’t.
“Van Doren,” he said. She didn’t move. On the contrary, she snored. “Van Doren.”
She still didn’t move. The days of monitoring had taken more out of her than he thought.
The longer he stared, the more powerful her sleeping form became. The first night they’d met, she’d positioned herself as far from him as she could manage. She hadn’t trusted him to not kill her, much less keep her safe. Now she slept so deep she didn’t move despite him asking her to.
Then, in a move Sasha didn’t plan on or really understand, he bent down, one hand against the seat, and leaned over, lightly shaking her bicep.
Diana bolted up, grabbing his hand and watching him wide-eyed. Her hair pulled across his skin, draping over his fingers, and she jerked her head left and right. Panicked.
“Diana.” He tried to ignore the softness of her skin. The way she tightened her fingers around his at the sound of her name. She focused on his face once more, sleep leaving her eyes. “It’s time to go.”
