“And what if your plan results in another innocent woman’s murder?”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Viktor wouldn’t approve. Are you going back to your old ways, crossbreed? That’s not how we do things here.”
“You’ve never gone undercover? Don’t be telling me fibs,” I said in a bad Irish accent.
He paced to my right, holding the back of his neck. “If a child winds up in your arms, and it’s not that child, you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life. Assuming you have a conscience. You’ll have captured a criminal, but at the expense of another innocent life.”
“But think of all the lives we’ll save. Even if you think it’s wrong, you can’t deny the end result.”
Christian stalked forward and glared at me so intensely that I blinked. “Are you langered? Because that’s not a rational argument. Where did you go this evening?”
“That’s a tight leash you keep on me.”
“You’re more combative than usual tonight. I’m just curious what’s influencing such dangerous thoughts.”
“I went to Club Nine.”
He rocked with laughter. “Jaysus wept. No wonder. Let me guess, you drank the heresy.”
“Wrath.”
“No wonder you’re on a mission. Let the alcohol wear off, and see how you feel in the morning. When a Sensor spikes your drink, the residual effects can last longer than you think.”
“Why did Betty keep staring at you like she did?” I asked, shifting topics. It was something that had been weighing on my mind all day.
“Betty who?”
“The waitress at the diner.” When just a hint of scarlet touched his cheeks and he walked off, I bolted out of my seat and followed behind him. “What are you not telling me?”
The sound of our footsteps reverberated off the stone floors, and I hurried to match his pace. When he turned a dark corner and shadow walked to get away, I flashed with a burst of energy and grabbed the back of his shirt.
Christian spun around. “What the feck is wrong with you? Can’t you let a man be alone? You’re always trying to stir the pot.”
“You know her, don’t you?”
His lips tightened, and he gave me a belligerent look.
“You might as well talk,” I said coolly. “It’s not as if I’m going anywhere for the next few centuries. Did you drink her blood?”
This time when he flounced off, I let him. He went out the heavy door that led to the interior balcony. It was a nice space that overlooked the front property, but I hadn’t spent much time out there since the weather changed over to snow. I casually pushed open the door and saw Christian leaning forward, his arms resting on the stone railing. I crossed the distance and stood to his left where a quiet gust of wind lifted snowflakes off the ground.
Christian kept his eyes forward. “Believe it or not, Betty was a fetching girl in her youth. Fifty years ago. Maybe more.”
“How did you know her?”
He shook his head, amusement in his voice. “You see so many faces in your lifetime that it’s not always easy to remember the ones who have aged. Her last name is different, but not much else. I was surprised she remembered me. Well, she doesn’t actually know who I am, but her uncertainty was enough to give me pause. I looked different back then. Didn’t have the beard and dressed with the times.”
“If you’re about to tell me that you and Betty got it on, I’m not sure I want the details.”
“No,” he said on a long sigh. “Betty wasn’t like that. She was a spirited lass with dreams about becoming an activist. She was always marching for something. Just a short little lass with fiery hair, a nice set of knockers, and a loud opinion.”
I snorted. “Not much has changed. Did you love her?”
“Don’t be daft. I was involved in a lot of nefarious activities back then, which I’m sure you can already guess, and I used to sit in that diner late at night and have a cup of coffee. Sometimes she’d invite herself to my table and stir up a conversation. I didn’t think all these years later she’d still be there. The last I saw of her, she was betrothed to a lad who’d just joined the army. Such a tragic waste.”
“Of what? It sounds like she’s lived a full life.”
Christian regarded me for a moment. “You don’t think working in the same diner after fifty years is tragic? She could have done something more with her life than having babies and serving pie.”
“She did. Betty’s a lighthouse. Maybe she didn’t become a social activist or whatever you saw in her, but she fed me and helped me out when things were bleak. I’m sure she didn’t just sit with you because of your charming personality. She has a way of spotting lost souls. People like you are beyond her help, but she matters. People like her matter. Without their compassion, where would the rest of us be?”
“You shouldn’t get attached to mortals.”
“Humans have treated me better than any of our kind ever has. I’m sick of Breed looking down their noses at them.”
He stood up straight, his breath fogging the air between us. “It’s easier that way. You’re too green to know what life can do to an immortal. How many people can you stand to watch go through sickness and disease, only to fade away and become nothing more than a headstone? You haven’t a clue how many people I’ve watched go mad because they couldn’t let go of the human world. Better that you forget this nonsense with seeing your father. It will only destroy you.”
“He’s my father!”
Christian’s lips peeled back. “But that’s not your place anymore! You don’t belong there. Do you think saying good-bye makes it any easier? You have an opportunity to do something with your life. Don’t be like Betty. Don’t give it up for love. You can’t be with your father anymore. You can’t visit every Sunday and talk over tea about the latest football game, pretending that everything’s normal before you head back to Keystone and plan an assassination. It doesn’t work that way. Let him go.”
The moment I felt the tear roll down my cheek, I hated myself for showing my emotions. “You made me a promise.”
“Aye. And I’ll keep that promise,” he said, taking a step back. “Even if it means losing you as a partner. Do you think I didn’t contemplate returning to Ireland to see if my sister was looked after? Nature has to take its course. You can’t interfere. Even after I scrub your father’s memory, it won’t remove the emotions. They’ll linger, and if he’s gotten over your disappearance and death, he might end up reliving those feelings all over again without knowing why.”
When Christian returned inside, my heart sank. What if he was right? What if visiting my father ended up being the catalyst that turned him back to the bottle? What right did I have to erase the peace he’d probably found after five years?
Even still, I couldn’t back out.
I needed to see him.
I needed to know.
Chapter 6
“That was the worst breakfast in God’s creation,” Wyatt remarked from his office chair.
Ignoring his complaint, I stared at my file on the floor in front of me.
“I thought the jam was marvelous,” Gem said from the beanbag chair.
Wyatt’s laugh ended with a snort. “That’s because it was the only thing she didn’t burn. Toast I get. And I’ll even forgive bacon. But how do you burn eggs?”
“Will you two pipe down so I can concentrate?” Shepherd grumbled. He’d taken over the sofa and surrounded himself with papers.
Since Wyatt had a lot of territory to cover with recent black market offers, he’d printed them all out for us to review while he monitored the new listings in search of a baby. The whole team was present except for Claude and Christian.
It was official. One of Viktor’s contacts with the higher authority had hired Keystone to take on the case of the murdered woman and stolen child, so Viktor gave us the green light to begin as soon as possible. The team had put away their side projects to focus solely on the case.
“Is Claude still out?” I asked.
Viktor crossed his legs from his chair in the corner. “He believes the fates will deliver us the killer on a silver platter.”
Claude owned the killer’s scent, and he wanted to scout the area and visit some popular bars where the seedy lowlifes hung out. Basically, he thought there was a chance he could pick up the guy’s scent and solve the case.
Nothing in life came that easy.
“Is there nothing I can do to help?” Niko leaned on Wyatt’s desk and gripped the edge. He’d taken two sections of his ebony hair on either side and tied them together in the back, highlighting his carved cheekbones.
Wyatt kept his eyes on the computer screen. “Sorry, buddy. I could order a braille printer and see if those work.”
Niko turned his head away. “It would be an excessive waste of paper if it’s just going to be discarded.”
I rubbed my eyes. “What about the report I gave you a half hour ago, Wyatt?”
He spun around in his chair, a pen between his teeth. “The sellers don’t always get back to you right away. He finally sent more info. Dead end. The kid was seven.”