"I'm not sure," Laird said softly. "All I know is that the Bishop's going to want to talk to you. They're going to accuse you of aiding the enemy, and you'd better have a damned good reason why."
"Because I didn't know she was the enemy!" Thane hissed, looking up to make sure the guys only a few dozen yards away weren't watching.
Laird nodded. "Ok. The problem here is that she kissed you after she grabbed your arm."
"Drained me," Thane corrected. "I opened my mouth to tell her that if she surrendered, we'd go easy on her. I didn't get the chance to say a thing. The bitch kissed me and pulled." He shoved at his hair again. "And she drained me hard. I'm running on empty here."
"Thought she was a vampire?" Laird's eyes narrowed.
Thane just let out a wry huff. "Yeah, I kinda did too. Then she drained me with a kiss. She drank from the necks of the priests she killed, but she also ate a handful of what I think was a lung. That doesn't match shit, Laird."
Laird's response was not the one he'd expected. "Well, that works out well, doesn't it?"
"Fuck you," Thane grumbled
"No," Laird insisted. "Listen to me, you bonehead. We know the Asian girl splattered the alley. She's the vampire. The other demon drained you. That means she's a succubus, right? She stole your strength, which explains why you couldn't kill her alone. That's your story, Thane."
"Yeah, and what's really going on?" Thane asked. "What the fuck are you keeping from me?"
"I don't know yet," Laird admitted. "I know there's something, and I know the priests from my wing suck at keeping their mouths shut. I also know that they want someone to take the fall for this, and I'd rather it wasn't you. So what do I need to know to back your story?"
"She's not a succubus. She said she's a valkyrie."
"Do I want to know why you were talking?" Laird asked.
"Well, there was a point when I had her pinned to the wall, trying to figure out how to get another clavum, and we were both too tired to do more than pant. I asked her if she was a vampire, because she ate two of those priests. She said she was a valkyrie. Here's my question. What the fuck drinks blood, eats flesh, and kisses away life? Are valkyries a thing?"
"No," Laird assured him. "We've got vampires, ghosts, demons, succubi, witches, and werewolves. Variants, but those are the preferred common names. I'd keep the valkyrie thing to yourself for now. Don't tell them you tried to talk to it. Do mention that she drained you."
"And hope they don't decide to make me disappear the same way they did with Mom and Stuart," Thane finished for him. "Yep. Got it."
Chapter Six
DAHLIA
Dahlia limped away, all too aware that she no longer looked like the stunning vixen she'd been at the start of the night. When she saw the first open shop, she ducked in, heading straight for the restroom. The fluorescent lights did her no favors, but perception was based on attitude. If she acted like she wasn't important, then most people wouldn't notice a ravaged woman, they'd just see a strung-out hooker. It would have to do.
The place ended up being a late-night diner. It wasn't a franchise, just some hole in the wall ready to make a few bucks when the clubs closed for the night. The tired employees ignored her completely, only caring about the patrons who claimed a table and promised a tip. Thankfully, the sink in the bathroom was clean. Cupping handfuls of water, she quickly washed the blood from her face and neck, trying to remove as much of it from her dress as possible. Her hair was a tangled mess; her clothes were torn, stained, and scuffed. None of it was too bad, though. The blood was the biggest problem.
Using the foamy soap from the dispenser, she managed to clear enough from the dress that it looked more like she'd puked all over herself, and less like she'd just eaten a couple of priests. The thought flickered through her mind, and she remembered Thane's words. He'd insisted he wasn't a priest, yet he wore the symbol of the Inquisition? Had something changed?
For centuries, they'd been convinced that only the pure of heart could defeat the demons of Hell. Not that she was a demon. Then again, most of the priests weren't pure of heart. Still, anyone who showed the power, the Inquisition quickly recruited into their faith. Those who refused to join were usually killed, claimed to be one of the many monsters they were supposed to be fighting against. Now that witch hunts were no longer legal, it sounded like this was their way to adapt.
And who the hell was Thane? None of his reactions were what she'd expected. He'd dropped the stake when he saw her looking at it. He'd offered to let her go if she explained how she could touch the symbol of God. Never mind his strength! The last time she'd met a priest able to push her off her feet had been just before she found Mei. It was the kind of strength that came from something besides common muscle and bone. It came from the power of vitality and whatever magic they used.
She was starving, but Dahlia knew she had to be careful. She'd left Thane alive - simply because it was the only way to escape - and now he'd be chasing her. The Inquisition knew she existed. They wouldn't stop until they'd truly killed her. They never did. The only reason she'd survived so long was because they'd never known she existed. Now, that protection was gone. If she fed, it would leave a trail they couldn't ignore. At least here. She needed to be across town, because Dallas was big enough that what happened on one side wasn't important on the other.
Wiping away the last traces of damage to her knee, she tossed the bloody paper towels into the trash and left, making sure to stagger on her tall heels. Anyone looking would see nothing more than a drunk bimbo heading home after a wild night. Her dress was too tight, her boots too tall and her make-up smudged far beyond repair. If she was anywhere else, it would be one hell of a walk of shame, but Dahlia wasn't embarrassed. Oh no, she wanted to make sure everyone wrote her off as unimportant. That way, when the inquisitors showed up asking about her, no one would put what she looked like now with the woman they were sure to describe.
Next, she needed a ride. Leaving the diner, she wandered down the street, aiming for the tattoo parlors. In the back of her mind, she wondered where the inquisitors were. Her paranoia had half of them running after Mei, but she knew her partner too well. That little minx wouldn't stick around long enough to see them show up. She'd learned that lesson long ago, so she'd be safe. She had to be. With her heels clicking on the sidewalk, Dahlia tried to convince herself it was true.
"Hey, sweetheart?" The man's voice came from the gas station to her right.
She had to bite her lip to hide the smile. Instead, she looked over at him with wide, terrified eyes. "Me?"
Leaning against a sedan, the Black man nodded. "You ok? You look a little roughed up."
So he was a nice guy. She'd been hoping for some jerk to jump her, but nice would do. It just meant she wouldn't get the snack she really needed. Not yet.