Blood Pact Tanya Huff

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of her. "I'm fine," he growled.
"Bullshit! You want to tell me what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." His tone dared Cantree to argue the point and Cantree's expression did just that.
Celluci had heard the rumors making the rounds about ex-Detective Vicki Nelson's hasty relocation to
the West Coast-although he'd heard them second or third hand because no one had the guts to speculate
to his face. Obviously, Cantree had heard them, too. "It's personal."
"Not when it affects your job, it isn't." The Inspector leaned forward and held Celluci's gaze with his.
"So here's what you're going to do. You're going to take a leave of absence for at least a month and
you're going to get out of the city and you're going to find wherever it is you've left your brains and then
you're going to come back and have another little talk with Dr. Freud-enstein."
"What if I don't want to go?" Celluci muttered.
Cantree smiled. "If you don't take a leave of absence, I'll suspend you for a month without pay. Either
way, you're out of here."
Betting in headquarters had three to one odds that Mike Celluci's leave of absence would begin on the
first available flight to Vancouver. Several people lost some serious money.
A week after the interview in Cantree's office, Celluci found himself escorting his ancient grandmother
onto a plane bound for Italy and a family reunion.
"Jesus, Mike it's good to have you back." Dave Graham's grin threatened to dislodge the entire lower
half of his face. "I mean, one more temporary partner like the last one and I'd have taken six weeks off."
"Who the fuck left coffee rings all over my desk!"
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"On the other hand," Dave continued thoughtfully was Celluci began accusing coworkers of messing
with his stuff, "it was a lot quieter while you were gone."
"You buying one of those, Mike?"
"What?" Celluci looked up from the paperback book display and scowled at his partner.
"Well, you've been staring at it for the last five minutes. I thought that maybe you were in the mood for a
little light reading." Dave reached past his head at the blond giant cradling a half-naked brunette on the
cover. "Sail into Destiny by Elizabeth Fitzroy. Looks like a winner. You think you know a guy . . ." He
flipped the book over "... think you know his tastes, and then you find out about something like this. You
figure Captain Roxborough and this Veronica babe are going to get together in the end or is that a
given?''
"Jesus H. Christ, we're in a mall! Someone might see you.'' Celluci grabbed the book and shoved it back
on the shelf.
"Hey, you were the one who stopped to browse," Dave protested as the two detectives started walking
again. "You were the one ..."
"I know the author, all right? Now drop it."
"You know an author? I didn't even think you knew how to read." They watched a crowd of teenage
boys saunter past and into a sports store. "So what's she like? Does she live in Toronto?''
He's a vampire. He lives in Vancouver. "I said, drop it."
There were bits of Vicki scattered all over the city and whenever he ran into one-her old neighborhood,
her favorite coffee shop, a hooker she'd busted-it
gouged the scabs off his ability to cope. Now, he was finding bits of Fitzroy as well and every copy of
the book he saw ground salt into the wounds. Fortunately, he'd gotten better at hiding the pain.
He'd even convinced the police psychologist that he was fine.
"... and the Stanley Park murders continue in Vancouver. Another known drug dealer has been found by
the teahouse at Ferguson Point. As in the three previous cases, the head appears to have been ripped
from the body and sources in the Coroner's Office report that, once again, the body has been drained of
blood."
Celluci's grip tightened around the aluminum beer can, crushing the thin metal. His attention locked on
the television, he didn't notice the liquid dripping over his hand and onto the carpet.
"The police remain baffled and one of the officers staking out the teahouse during the time the murder
occurred freely admitted having seen nothing. Speculation in the press ranges from the likelihood of a
powerful new gang arriving in the Vancouver area and removing competition, to the possibility of an
enraged sasquatch roaming the park.
"In Edmonton ..."
Drained of blood. Celluci shut off the sound and stared unblinkingly at the CBC news anchor who
silently continued the National without him. Not a sasquatch. A vampire. A new, young vampire
learning to feed. Rip off the heads to hide the first frenzied teeth marks. Fitzroy was strong enough.
Leave dead drug dealers in the park to make a point. He could see Vicki all over that.
"God-damned vampire vigilantes," he muttered through teeth clenched so tightly his temples ached.
Back before Fitzroy, Vicki had realized that law was one of the few concepts holding chaos at bay. As
much as she might have wanted to behead a few of the cock-
roaches that walked on two legs in the city's gutters, she'd never have taken matters into her own hands.
Fitzroy had changed that even before he'd changed her.
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Vicki was alive, but what had she become? And why didn't he care?
Celluci didn't want to face the answer to either question. The TV continued to flicker silently in the
corner as he cracked open a bottle of Scotch and methodically set about searching for oblivion.
Time passed but only because there was nothing to stop it.
She stood outside for a while and watched his shadow move against the blinds. There was a tightness in
her chest and, if she didn't know herself better, she'd say she was frightened. "Which is ridiculous."
Wiping her palms against the thighs of her jeans, the movement dictated no longer by need but by habit,
she started up the driveway. Waiting would only make it worse.
Her knock, harder than she'd intended for she still didn't have complete control of her strength, echoed [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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