Part 6 (1/2)

We traveled up two more flights to the top floor of the building, which had been half-gutted to create a series of larger rooms.

The doorman left us in a parlor furnished with threadbare Persians and ravaged leather chairs that spat stuffing at me when I tried to sit in them. He mumbled that Mr. Blackburn would be with us shortly and shuffled out.

Along one wall, the building's mailboxes had been installed minus their doors, showcasing a variety of bottles, knives, and even a caster or two. Shelby picked up one of the flat oval discs caster witches used to channel magick, made of a mellow blood-colored wood. ”This is purpleheart. Got to be at least a hundred years old. And the tree it comes from is extinct.”

”Put that down,” someone rumbled from the doorway. I jumped reflexively and found myself face-to-face with a short man with iridescent white hair, a black open-collar s.h.i.+rt, and a mightily p.i.s.sed-off look on his face.

”Mr. Blackburn, I'm sorry,” I said, s.n.a.t.c.hing the caster out of Shelby's hands and placing it back in its spot. It p.r.i.c.kled my palms where I touched it and I brushed them together. Getting too close to magick always has a bad effect on me. ”I and Detective O'Halloran apologize for her rudeness.”

Blackburn grunted. ”Never mind.” He stared at both of us for a long minute. His eyes were almost all black with only the barest rim of lighter color, and he scented of char. Blackburn had been touching darkness for a long time, and it was stripping his humanity away as surely as acid strips skin. ”Neither of you could put it to use,” he said. His wrinkled mouth puckered into a smile. ”Might as well be red water beating in your veins,” he told Shelby. ”It's sad, all the inbreeding the O'Hallorans do and they can't even produce magickal children. Or maybe it's because because of the inbreeding.” of the inbreeding.”

”You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” Shelby hissed, taking a step toward him. I put out my arm like a turnstile bar and caught her.

”Mr. Blackburn,” I said, ”we need to talk to you about Vincent.”

His lips puckered in annoyance, a grimace that slid into a rueful smile. ”What has my worthless son done now? He's in trouble?”

”I'm afraid so,” I said. ”Mr. Blackburn-”

”Victor,” he corrected me, still smiling.

”Victor,” I amended. ”Your son is dead.”

Nothing was apparent in his face immediately, but then the smile dropped and Blackburn swayed like someone had smacked him with a brick. His sallow cheeks grew spots of color and he reached out a ragged-nailed hand to grip the edge of the postboxes.

”Victor?” I said, reaching out to catch him if he pa.s.sed out. His body didn't look like it could take much more than a light breeze.

”How?” he whispered, knuckles white.

”We don't have a cause of death ...” I started, but he cut me off with a slas.h.i.+ng gesture.

”Was he murdered?”

”Mr. Blackburn, I really can't-”

”Was he murdered?” Victor bellowed. He grabbed the nearest jar and flung it across the room. Sticky liquid dripped down the wall where it shattered. Victor bellowed. He grabbed the nearest jar and flung it across the room. Sticky liquid dripped down the wall where it shattered.

Footsteps clattered and a pet.i.te, teenage, and female version of Vincent Blackburn stuck her head in the door. ”Daddy? Is everything okay?” She caught sight of us and drew back, eyes wide.

At the sight of her, Blackburn drew himself up and pressed his lips together, the picture of contained fury. ”Detectives, this is my daughter, Valerie. Valerie, these are Detectives O'Halloran and ...?”

”Wilder,” I said quietly, holding out my hand. ”How do you do?”

Valerie didn't take it, just flicked her gaze between the three of us. ”Daddy, what's wrong?” she demanded.

Blackburn buried his head in his hands, sitting heavily in one of the armchairs.

”Ms. Blackburn, I'm sorry to have to tell you this,” I said, ”but your brother Vincent was found dead earlier this evening of an apparent drug overdose.” It wouldn't matter to these people how Vincent had died, just that he was gone.

”No!” she wailed, running to her father and putting her arms around him. ”That's not possible.”

”I'm afraid that's how it happened,” Shelby said, speaking up for the first time. She pulled out her notebook and pen and scratched a date at the top of the page. ”Now we need some information. How long had your brother been using illegal drugs?”

Victor's head snapped up and he fixated on Shelby like an angry predator. ”What? What in seven h.e.l.ls is that supposed to mean?”

I grabbed Shelby by the arm and led her to the corner of the room, our backs to the Blackburns. ”What the Hex are you doing?”

”Getting statements from the victim's a.s.sociates,” she said, shrugging me off.

”Shelby, this is his family. family. They just found out their son and brother is dead. Give them a G.o.ds-d.a.m.ned break.” They just found out their son and brother is dead. Give them a G.o.ds-d.a.m.ned break.”

”Why, so they can get their stories straight?” she asked. My jaw-dropped expression obviously didn't telegraph that this was a bad idea, because she went back to Vincent and Valerie and asked, ”Was Mr. Blackburn's lifestyle one that would put him at high risk for this sort of incident?”

”You've got some nerve, you b.i.t.c.h,” Valerie said, twin tears working down her face. ”Just because we don't use s.h.i.+ny little circles like you, you think you're better than us? Or is it that you're afraid?” She left her father and came close to Shelby, jabbing her finger into Shelby's chest. ”Afraid of what the big, bad blood witches might do to you? By your reasoning, my brother deserved to die. Am I right so far, circle-scribbler?”

”Back off me, Ms. Blackburn,” said Shelby, her hand dropping to her gun.

”Burn yourself!” Valerie shot back. Shelby drew.

I crossed the fifteen feet of s.p.a.ce in under a second, using my were speed without even thinking. I grabbed the barrel of Shelby's department-issue Glock and twisted it sideways, bending her wrist and trigger finger along with it. I disarmed her with a quick shake and pinned one arm behind her back while she thrashed, body heaving with rage.

”Settle the h.e.l.l down!” I snarled, and felt my eyes phase and my teeth fang out when she didn't obey.

”Hex me,” Victor murmured, staring. ”I'd do as she says, Ms. O'Halloran.”

Shelby twisted to look at me and immediately went limp. ”Oh, s.h.i.+t.”

Oh, s.h.i.+t, indeed. The were raked its claws at the back of my mind, demanding release and reign of my body for the fight it had not started, but ached to finish.

”Luna, let me go,” said Shelby.

”Do us both a favor and don't move,” I growled, heart pounding. I could feel my fingers tensing and the claws stabbing just beneath the surface. It was still two weeks to the phase, but some of the were's less lovely traits came out whenever they felt like it.

”Luna.. .” Shelby said again. The were snarled and I released her, stepping back with my hands raised as she stumbled away from me. She didn't cower, like prey, just stood on the opposite side of the room disheveled and angry.

I breathed in, out, and finally felt my hands relax and my eyes phase to their normal color.

”Well, that's something different,” said Valerie Blackburn finally. ”Never seen two cops go at it before.”

Victor stood and pointed toward the door. ”Get out, both of you.”

I picked up Shelby's gun and put it in my waistband. ”I'm very sorry, Mr. Blackburn.”

”I believe you are.” you are.” He nodded to me. ”You are an honorable creature. However, if you don't get that thin-blooded little b.i.t.c.h out of my home ...” He flicked a curved silver knife from somewhere hidden and held it loosely at his side. He nodded to me. ”You are an honorable creature. However, if you don't get that thin-blooded little b.i.t.c.h out of my home ...” He flicked a curved silver knife from somewhere hidden and held it loosely at his side.