Page 12

Chapter 12

T hey were silent as they left Dr. Seine, and Adler didn’t even find it in him to ask about her very idiosyncratic office design.

When Maxim pulled out of the Forum’s parking lot and sped away, Adler was still lost in his thoughts. They spent the drive in silence until the vampire parked his car in the garage beneath 43 Ruthaven. Maxim got out, and Adler followed.

“What now?” he asked.

Maxim walked around the car and unbuckled his swords from his hunter’s blacks, then put them into the trunk of his car. That should have made him look less lethal. It didn’t.

“Now you follow me.” He headed toward the elevators.

“You have a plan though, right?”

Adler hoped so. The idea of Pearson—of these most recent murders—being a coordinated effort… It scared him. Maxim had been afraid the Jack the Ripper copycat murders would create unrest in both the human and supernatural populace. If that is still the goal of whoever is behind this, they need to be stopped fast.

“You’re in such a hurry. How about you introduce me to that wolf child Clement has been looking after, and then Heath can hand you your new phone.”

The elevator doors opened for Maxim without him having to push a button, and he strode inside. When he turned, Adler noticed a single strand of golden hair that had escaped the hunter’s long braid, a flaw Adler didn’t want to notice but couldn’t ignore.

“Why do I need a new phone?” Adler asked into the silence of the elevator.

Maxim leaned against a mirrored wall. “We are going to compartmentalize because we can’t be sure that your police colleagues and Gordon’s and my Forum colleagues are fully conspiracy free. All of us will use the devices Heath provides for communication from here on forward. And if a vampire other than me uses their compulsion to extract information, we don’t want too much information around, do we? Which leads me to ask, have you ever been compelled?”

Adler cocked his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

Maxim nodded, a mischievous grin spreading like honey on wild berries. He put a hand on his hip.

“Look into my eyes, detective.”

Adler looked down. “Do I have to?”

Maxim clicked his tongue. “What now, are you shy because it’s your first time? I promise I’ll be gentle. It won’t hurt one tiny bit.”

“Is that what you tell all the people you compel?” Adler asked, stalling.

“Oh, I can’t do that. Heath would be very cross with me. He’d call me insensitive and lewd, can you believe? Me?” Maxim fake-whimpered. “His sweet papa, who cared for him, bathed him, changed his diapers and kissed him good night after making sure there were no monsters under his bed.”

“Uhh…”

“Detective. Look at me.”

Adler knew he should. Maxim was alpha. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t like the idea of any vampire other than Gordon controlling him, and before he could voice that much, he bared his teeth. At Maxim. Who was a badass motherfucker, swords or no.

Fuck, why am I like this? He’ll—

Maxim whistled and sped forward. Adler found his head tilted upward slightly by a strong hand on his chin, and his eyes met Maxim’s.

“Say apple pie,” Maxim said.

Adler growled. “No. Sorry! Fuck, sorry. Apple pie?”

Maxim let go of him and stepped back, this time in normal speed.

“Well, it would appear you can’t be compelled. Do you know the only time a beta wolf ever growled at me before this day was when I had cause to fight their alpha? The mate bite has been doing wonders for your loyalty.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”

“Not at all. It’s good to know you can’t be compelled against your better nature or your mate.”

Adler stiffened. “That’s good.” I’d never hurt my mate, never.

“I agree fully, although I will have you know, none ever complained about my skill of compulsion. I know just the right spot to hit time and time again until they succumb.”

Adler gave him a flat look. “Heath had a point, you know.”

Maxim gaped, then put a finger to his mouth. “Shh. You can’t say that out loud. He might hear.”

Adler rubbed his eyes. “Okay. I’ll whisper. About the conspiracy though, exactly how deep do you think this goes?”

The vampire’s face hardened. “I don’t know, but someone meddled with several investigations over a prolonged period of time. And remember that the… trophies Pearson cut out of her victims were never found. Remember how she specifically acted like Jack the Ripper in the staging even when she actually just preferred choking her victims to death.” He crossed his arms in front of him. “It’s rare that you see only the shadow of a person, see that they have been there only by the negative space they leave behind. It’s the kind of killer that we hunters always pay special attention to when we happen across them, and this is one of those times, Adler. So pay attention. This is more than a crow in a tree. Make notes, detective.”

Adler nodded even as the elevator dinged to a stop and spilled them out in the hallway just outside Morgan’s Bar and Restaurant.

Maxim lifted one eyebrow. “Ready? And remember, children are terribly good at detecting the unease in the people closest to them.”

Adler snorted. “Thanks for the pep talk, Maxim.”

The vampire shrugged and walked out. “My mother told me, but naturally I was still surprised when my darling child decided to comfort me after a particularly difficult hunt. Heath was three at the time, never mind that dhampirs grow differently than humans or young wolves. Have you had news of the child’s grandmother?”

“Not yet.”

Adler tried to imagine the vampire hunter taking care of a miniature Heath and…failed. Maxim was good at being a hunter, but Adler couldn’t fathom how the man had ever managed to raise a child who had turned into one of the most reliable and meticulous people Adler had ever met. Not to mention fastidious about data collection and all the tech stuff.

They walked into the bar and restaurant area together, and Maxim made straight for the bar behind which…Clement was apparently giving Mil an introductory course in cocktail making.

The little girl sat on a barstool so she could reach the counter, and she was pouring liquor into Clement’s shaker after carefully measuring it out. Several of the human donors Maxim kept on staff as well as Morgan herself and most of her fae staff were seated at the bar and waiting to be served cocktails.

“You have the recipe for a gimlet memorized, Milea?” Clement asked the girl.

Mil nodded. “Gin, lime juice, simple syrup. We serve it with lime peel.”

“I really need to figure out childcare,” Adler said as they approached.

Maxim turned his stare at Adler. “You do? I think my newest bartender already has.” He leaned against the bar, next to one of the donors, and Adler took the seat next to Maxim. “It is always good to see new people picking up new skills quickly. Who might your young apprentice be, Clement?”

Mil looked over to Adler and bit her bottom lip, obviously shy.

“This is Milea,” the Lar said. “Milea, this is Maxim. He’s my boss.”

The girl perked up. “The one who introduced Gordon to Adler?”

Adler couldn’t keep himself from giggling, and Maxim moaned. “Once, I had hopes higher than the tallest mountain of seeing them mated promptly, but—oh woe!—they were stubborn, thick-headed, and prone to running off or running after. Say, Milea, do you think a vampire can outrun a wolf?”

The girl hesitated, then said, “Not for long. And we can track. Vampires are easy to track.”

Maxim leaned over the counter. “Is that so?”

The girl nodded, hesitant with the eye contact.

Adler smiled at her fondly. “Not all are, but Mil has a good nose.”

Maxim turned in his chair. “Hm. You’re saying this is a famous tracker-to-be? Madame Milea, I find myself even more delighted with your presence behind my bar.”

“Thanks,” Mil mumbled before returning her attention to the gimlet.

The donor on Maxim’s other side took the cocktail Mil made for her and respectfully gave the vampire’s theatrics some room. The fae followed suit, possibly afraid Maxim might break into soliloquy. Only a few of the donors remained. Perhaps they were too drunk to care about Maxim’s poetic ambitions.

Clement looked at Adler. “I told her she can come here again whenever.”

Mil looked at Adler too. “Can I really?”

Adler wasn’t sure why Mil wasn’t in a ball on the floor right now, crying for her granny. If he were honest, he had kind of expected that, but he was glad she was well, not glad the Lar had taught her how to make gimlets perhaps, but glad she seemed to be doing okay.

“Sure, Mil.” Adler looked to Clement. “If that’s alright with you of course.”

The Lar turned to his acidic self once more. “I offered. Why on earth wouldn’t it be? Did I not explain to you downstairs that I am perfectly capable of taking care of a child?”

“Ah, Clement, your sunny disposition always brightens every drinker’s day. Isn’t that just so?” Maxim asked the assembled donors, who mumbled their excuses and found tables at the other end of the room, possibly sensing a looming villanelle.

“You scared them away,” Mil told Maxim.

The vampire grinned at her and showed off his teeth. “But look,” he said. “I’m not scary at all.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” said Heath, who had approached them silently, his skill at being sneaky just as good as Maxim’s. “Old bat, could you not scary-grin at the child, please? And you—” Heath pointed at Clement. “The two of us need to have a conversation about underage drinking.”

Mil looked as if she were shrinking on her chair.

“Oh, Miss Milea, don’t worry about Heath,” Maxim said. “He’s my son, though I’m afraid I failed him in my parenting when I did not provide him with—”

“And don’t you fucking say crayons again, old bat, or I swear I will make you do your own fucking paperwork for a month.” Heath sat down on Maxim’s other side. “Hello, Milea. Adler.”

Maxim cleared his throat. “Language, darling.”

Heath looked confused. “Yeah, I’m using language. Do you want me to resort to expressive dance?”

“He means you shouldn’t curse in front of children.” Mil glanced up from her shaker.

Heath blinked. “Oh. Didn’t realize that was a rule. Well, fuck me—uhm. Dear me?”

“My granny says cursing is important, actually, just not to curse too much in front of adults or they will think I wasn’t raised right. She says cursing is a life skill.”

Clement nodded. “Smart woman.”

“That she is.” And hopefully, she’ll be better soon to teach Mil all the curses.

Adler couldn’t see the face Maxim was making at Mil, but it made the little girl giggle, even if she pushed the expression away quickly. She began measuring out the gin for yet another gimlet.

Heath turned to Adler. “Now that you have seen the scene—”

Clement put down the gimlet Mil had made in front of the dhampir. “Please enjoy. Elsewhere.”

Heath frowned. Then looked at the child behind the bar. “Right. Old bat, table?”

“Call me papa, and I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Heath frowned, but took his cocktail and walked off.

Maxim pointed and caught Mil’s eye. “I’ve had to track this one a lot when he was little. I envy you your sense of smell, Milea. The same for me and Adler, if you please.”

Mil looked at Adler. “Can I make something for Gordon too?”

“He’s still at work, but you’ll get the chance soon. He’ll love that.”

Adler followed Maxim to a table Heath had selected, a corner that didn’t get a lot of light and was far away from the other people in the bar. They all sat.

Heath drained his gimlet in one go. “Fuck, he taught the little werewolf well.”

Adler huffed. “She’s talented.”

Maxim petted the back of Heath’s hand. “Darling, we both know you can’t hold your liquor.”

Heath pointed. “I’m ignoring that patronizing undertone. Adler, he told you?”

Adler sighed, feeling that a gimlet would do him good too. “Yeah, he sure did, and I don’t like it.”

Heath flicked a finger, hitting his empty glass. The sound rang through the air before it died.

“Welcome to the fucking club.”