“What kind of lead?”
“A highly sought-after drug called “Blood Red” because it apparently looks like blood. It has an aphrodisiac quality that supposedly makes ecstasy feel like Kool-aid.”
“You think it’s the drug the victims have been positive for,” she said, reading the unspoken between the lines.
“We don’t know,” he said, “but we’ve linked all six of the victims to one of three clubs.” He laughed without humor. “And get this. The names are from those teen Vampire books—Twilight, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn.”
“You’re kidding me,” she said incredulously, her stomach rolling. The lost blood, the vampire connection. There was something very sick going on.
“No, I’m not,” he said. “Someone thinks their funny and they’re not. Anyway, we’re on it. We’re working on getting to a dealer and getting a sample.”
“The victims were all found at different locations when they died,” she said, not getting the connection. “And I would have remembered those club names if I’d seen them.”
“They weren’t at any of these clubs the night they died, but they were there sometime in the months before their deaths.”
She pushed to her feet, her adrenaline pumping. “Then I need a sample of that drug. These victims were all blood deficient in a way that’s well, impossible. If this is the substance the victims were positive for, I need to figure out how it drained them of their blood, before it’s more widely used.”
“Your job stops with the reports,” he said. “The Austin PD and the FBI will take it from there. We just need to get the FBI lab anything and everything that might help speed up the investigation.”
He was right, so why did this feel so wrong? “I don’t have the reports. There’s a chain-of-custody and signatures that have to be obtained. They’re in process and out of my reach. You’ll have to wait until morning.”
He studied her a moment. “You have to have copies in your files. Screw the chain-of-command. Lives are on the line. Six women are dead.”
“I know that,” she snapped, seeing their faces flash through her mind’s eye. “I can’t sleep for fear of there being a seventh.”
“Believe me, I know what it’s like to lay in the bed and think of those six women. I remember every single detail of their deaths. We have an undercover female detective working the club we’ve identified as the hot spot. And since we both know the FBI lab is far more equipped to deal with the unknown than you are, we need them to look at the most recent reports and figure out exactly what we’re dealing with. We can’t afford to lose a minute once we get a sample. We don’t want a seventh victim.”
She considered him as he had her. She hated losing control, not getting that sample herself, but what was most important was solving this mystery before anyone else got hurt. A few hours could mean another life. She hesitated and then grabbed the file on her desk, pulling out a carbon copy of the master testing she’d done. “You didn’t get this from me.”
He reached for the paperwork over the top of her desk. “Your secret is safe with me, Kelly.” His eyes held hers and a shiver raced up and down her spine, for a reason, she couldn’t explain, before he offered, “Why don’t I walk you to your car? You need to get out of here.”
She shook her head. “No. I have work to do. I’ll have Jed walk me out.”
He arched a brow. “Jed isn’t protection.” He grabbed his cell phone and made a call, then hung up. “There will be an officer on sight in ten minutes. Make sure you call the security post when you leave.”
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you.” She watched him leave, wondering why she felt uncomfortable rather than appreciative. She sat down at her desk and picked up Aiden’s card. He’d wanted her to call him if she had a lead she was following up on. She had a lead, or rather leads, the name of the bars. She was supposed to call him so he could follow up. Her hand went to her phone, to the numbers she’d dialed a few minutes before, the compulsion to call Aiden was powerful. But why? She didn’t know Aiden. She didn’t know if she could trust him. She sat the phone down, her hand shaking with the effort. Good gosh, what was wrong with her? What was it about Aiden that had her so attached to him?
***
An hour later, dressed in a slim black skirt that hit mid thigh, and a siren red silk sleeveless blouse, with a deep V cut tank, Kelly pulled her Ford Fusion to a stop at a parking meter a block from Austin’s downtown party scene that included the 5th street Warehouse District and the 6th street party District. She’d realized that Derek had been right back at her lab. She did, indeed, fit the killer’s victim profile, outside of her age of course, and Kelly knew she could dress younger, play the part of a college kid. She was going to those clubs and she was going to get a sample of Blood Red before someone else died.
She picked up her phone from the seat beside her and sighed. She didn’t know why she was doing it, but she punched the button she’d programmed with Aiden’s number. It was as if she couldn’t help herself. He wanted her to call, so she was. Still, listening to the rings, her heart pounded in anticipatory dread. She didn’t even know what she was going to say if he answered. He didn’t. His voice mail picked up. This is Aiden. Leave a message.
Her heart jumped to her throat, but somehow, she managed to find a voice. “Aiden, ah, ‘hi’. This is Kelly from—well, this is Kelly. I found out about several bars where there’s a drug called Blood Red being sold. Anyway, since you’re not available I’ll follow up on the lead myself. So well, thanks. Bye.” She started to hang up and hesitated, again feeling compelled, or maybe just afraid enough, to say more. “I’m at the bar called ’Twilight’ on 5th street.” She hung up, shoved the phone into her mini purse, then slid it over her neck and shoulder. Not giving herself time to chicken out, she shoved open her car door, got out, and fed coins to the meter. As intimidating as the idea was, Kelly was going to Twilight, and if it didn’t deliver her a drug dealer, she’d try Eclipse and Breaking Dawn.
She started walking.
CHAPTER THREE
“I want a name,” Aiden growled through extended fangs, shoving a lowlife vampire that was a hair away from bloodlust, if not already there, against the wall of a downtown Austin alley. The vamp was a kid, barely twenty-five years converted, drinking as much blood daily as he needed to survive an entire month. Hungering for the rush, the added speed and strength of an elder, and too stupid to see what was wrong with what he’d become—no longer human or vampire, but monster. “Who killed those women?”
“Even if I knew,” the kid snarled. “I wouldn’t tell a scumbag Warden.”
“Was it you?” Aiden demanded, pulling a copper blade and pressing it to the vamp’s throat.
“I’m not stupid enough to kill my food.”
Suddenly someone grabbed Aiden from behind, fangs biting down on his shoulder. Aiden cursed and flung the second vamp he’d not been aware of, but in the process, he let go of his grip on the one he’d been holding. The punk rocker vamp went for a knife. At the same moment, Aiden flung his blade into the kid’s chest, a direct hit to his heart. The vamp dissolved instantly into dust, a side effect of the bloodlust mixed with the poison of copper.