you.”
“Already? Who called him?”
“No one. Apparently Jim had some kind of tracking device in him. All the high-value
prisoners wear them.”
I eye the line of pencils. “Spencer, did you hear that? Is it in one of those?”
He squats down level with the table, then selects the smallest pencil and hands it
to me. Sure enough, next to the graphite inside lies a silvery gray fiber.
David continues. “The sensor also detects the temperature difference between a vampire’s
body and the surrounding air. That way they know when and where an escaped prisoner
dies.”
Makes sense. No point wasting resources trying to find a vampire who’s already gone poof .
“Lanham wants you and Shane to debrief him,” David says. “Bring Deirdre, too.”
• • •
Shane and I help Deirdre stagger upstairs to the office. She insists on bringing the
rum. Whatever keeps her quiet.
Lanham is waiting in David’s office, his height and presence making the room look
even smaller than usual. “Griffin. McAllister. I understand there was an incident
and that James Esposito Jr. is now dead.”
Deirdre lets out a wail and slumps to the floor next to Lori’s desk.
I speak over her noise. “He’s dead because he got away from you guys. How the hell
did he escape?”
“We’re looking into it. There’s been a report of an incident outside the facility
where he was staying. Perhaps it was a diversionary tactic.”
“Your security must suck if you have to jab prisoners with tracking devices.” When
he glares at me, I add, “Sir.”
His jaw shifts. “I can’t reveal details about our correctional facilities’ methods.
But remember, ever since the vampire agents’ work slowdown, we’ve been understaffed
agency-wide.”
A convenient excuse. Or the truth. Or both.
Lanham looks down at Deirdre, who’s clutching the legs of Lori’s chair and whimpering
now instead of wailing. “This must be Ms. Falk.”
“Jim’s most recent progeny,” I tell him. “She called us for help because Jim abandoned
her and she was starving. While we were there, he showed up. I guess he was looking
for sanctuary before the sunrise.”
Lanham gives me a sharp look. “You ‘guess’? He didn’t state his purpose?”
I shut my mouth. Shane can tell him, and he does:
“Sir, I acted immediately, in the belief I was defending my life and those of Agent
Griffin and Ms. Falk.” Shane swallows, almost imperceptibly. “I struck without warning.”
“I see.” Colonel Lanham fingers the rim of his black cap. “Which part of your training
led you to believe this was the right tactic?”
Shane stands even straighter. “The part where we’re taught how to fight those older
and stronger than ourselves, sir. We’re to use any weapon at our disposal. Including
surprise.”
Deirdre practically spits. “There’s a difference between surprise and cold-blooded
murder.”
Lanham holds up a hand. “Before anyone says another word, I need to interview the
three of you separately, lest one account color the others.” Lanham looks at Deirdre
and gestures to Franklin’s empty office. “Ma’am?”
She lifts a bewildered gaze from the floor to his face.A tear hangs from each set of eyelashes. Lanham squats in front of her and extends
his hand to help her up, like she’s a child, and not a vampire who could tear out
his throat with one leap.
“Would you join me for a few minutes, please?”
I’ve never heard his voice so gentle. But his other hand, hidden from her, hovers
near the stake holstered at his ankle. I know from experience, Lanham is the world’s
fastest-drawing bureaucrat.
Deirdre stares up into his eyes. Maybe she trusts him, or maybe she can smell the
wood of the stake. But she grasps his hand and lets him lead her to Franklin’s office.
They shut the door softly.
A car rumbles into the parking lot outside. Lori’s, judging by the engine sound.
“I called
“Already? Who called him?”
“No one. Apparently Jim had some kind of tracking device in him. All the high-value
prisoners wear them.”
I eye the line of pencils. “Spencer, did you hear that? Is it in one of those?”
He squats down level with the table, then selects the smallest pencil and hands it
to me. Sure enough, next to the graphite inside lies a silvery gray fiber.
David continues. “The sensor also detects the temperature difference between a vampire’s
body and the surrounding air. That way they know when and where an escaped prisoner
dies.”
Makes sense. No point wasting resources trying to find a vampire who’s already gone poof .
“Lanham wants you and Shane to debrief him,” David says. “Bring Deirdre, too.”
• • •
Shane and I help Deirdre stagger upstairs to the office. She insists on bringing the
rum. Whatever keeps her quiet.
Lanham is waiting in David’s office, his height and presence making the room look
even smaller than usual. “Griffin. McAllister. I understand there was an incident
and that James Esposito Jr. is now dead.”
Deirdre lets out a wail and slumps to the floor next to Lori’s desk.
I speak over her noise. “He’s dead because he got away from you guys. How the hell
did he escape?”
“We’re looking into it. There’s been a report of an incident outside the facility
where he was staying. Perhaps it was a diversionary tactic.”
“Your security must suck if you have to jab prisoners with tracking devices.” When
he glares at me, I add, “Sir.”
His jaw shifts. “I can’t reveal details about our correctional facilities’ methods.
But remember, ever since the vampire agents’ work slowdown, we’ve been understaffed
agency-wide.”
A convenient excuse. Or the truth. Or both.
Lanham looks down at Deirdre, who’s clutching the legs of Lori’s chair and whimpering
now instead of wailing. “This must be Ms. Falk.”
“Jim’s most recent progeny,” I tell him. “She called us for help because Jim abandoned
her and she was starving. While we were there, he showed up. I guess he was looking
for sanctuary before the sunrise.”
Lanham gives me a sharp look. “You ‘guess’? He didn’t state his purpose?”
I shut my mouth. Shane can tell him, and he does:
“Sir, I acted immediately, in the belief I was defending my life and those of Agent
Griffin and Ms. Falk.” Shane swallows, almost imperceptibly. “I struck without warning.”
“I see.” Colonel Lanham fingers the rim of his black cap. “Which part of your training
led you to believe this was the right tactic?”
Shane stands even straighter. “The part where we’re taught how to fight those older
and stronger than ourselves, sir. We’re to use any weapon at our disposal. Including
surprise.”
Deirdre practically spits. “There’s a difference between surprise and cold-blooded
murder.”
Lanham holds up a hand. “Before anyone says another word, I need to interview the
three of you separately, lest one account color the others.” Lanham looks at Deirdre
and gestures to Franklin’s empty office. “Ma’am?”
She lifts a bewildered gaze from the floor to his face.A tear hangs from each set of eyelashes. Lanham squats in front of her and extends
his hand to help her up, like she’s a child, and not a vampire who could tear out
his throat with one leap.
“Would you join me for a few minutes, please?”
I’ve never heard his voice so gentle. But his other hand, hidden from her, hovers
near the stake holstered at his ankle. I know from experience, Lanham is the world’s
fastest-drawing bureaucrat.
Deirdre stares up into his eyes. Maybe she trusts him, or maybe she can smell the
wood of the stake. But she grasps his hand and lets him lead her to Franklin’s office.
They shut the door softly.
A car rumbles into the parking lot outside. Lori’s, judging by the engine sound.
“I called
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