A Perfect Blood

shoe . . .
    People were still pouring in, some of them in street clothes, but most in nondescript blue work coveralls. Hats and clipboards, I thought, thinking they could walk anywhere at any time and get into anyplace, never seen, never noticed. And what was with that ley-line drain? I’d never felt anything like it. Watching the captain, I started to slowly spindle the line, taking it in a trickle.
    “Knock it off, Morgan, or I’ll show you how we take down dead vampires,” the big man said without looking at me, and I let go of the line. Damn! Who had I just invited into my parlor?
    “They’re fixing the damage,” Trent said as the dusty scent of wall spackle pricked my nose and a metal ladder clanked upward.
    “You okay?” I asked him, and he nodded, his enthusiasm undimmed but getting harder to see as his usual calm control exerted itself. I could see it there, though, simmering.
    “Yeah!” Mark said, leaning over the table toward us since we appeared to have been forgotten for the moment. “What just happened? What is she?” he said as Eloy and Dr. Cordova were literally dragged out the back door.
    “Justice,” Trent said, and the big man standing at the end of the table turned.
    “Better you don’t know,” I said as the captain’s eyes squinted. He had his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging from under his polo shirt. “I thought we were doing this together?” I complained. “Nice of you to come back, but if all you’re going to do is abuse us, you can just go away and we’ll take Cordova and Eloy in ourselves.”
    “Relax, Rachel. I’m sure this will even itself out,” Trent said as he scooted a bit farther from me and relaxed his shoulders. In an eyeblink, the businessman was back, but I could see through it. I think the captain could, too.
    “Truer words have never been spoken,” the man said, his voice the same one from my earbud. His eyes never leaving mine, he shifted a lapel mic closer to his mouth. “Cleaners.”
    My gut tightened as the captain’s satisfaction that they had HAPA was tempered by my feeling of a new uncertainty. We’d given them their take, but I didn’t like how they were treating us. Mark hiccupped and slid to the back of the booth when the captain eased his well-muscled bulk onto the bench across from me. Past our little corner of quiet, a dozen people silently worked washing Eloy’s blood and Dr. Cordova’s spit from the floor, spackling, painting, replacing pictures of babies dressed up as flowers. From the ceiling, the whine of a battery-powered drill intruded, and I blinked as they replaced the broken fixture with an identical one.
    “Thanks for the help,” he said, and I brought my gaze back to the captain, startled to see him sitting quietly with his hands laced on the table.
    “Really? You’re appreciative?” I said tartly. “You could have fooled me. Here I am trying to get to know you, and you get nasty.”
    The captain inclined his head. “I wanted to evaluate your performance in a controlled setting. You did good. He did better. Interesting.”
    Trent? I thought, following the captain’s attention to him, and Trent frowned, clearly angry with himself. He had thought this might happen. I’d known it was a possibility, but I had so badly wanted a working relationship with someone who had guns that I’d ignored it. My heart pounded, remembering both the ley-line sink and his comment about taking down dead vampires. And now they were interested in Trent? Great.
    Trent cleared his throat, the sound attention-getting, confident. “We just saved you—”
    “Nothing,” the man interrupted as he leaned back, sourly eyeing us all. “You got in the way. Made a mess of things. Jeopardized six weeks of work—not just this acquirement, but the entire week. The last ten minutes proved to me that you’re a menace, Morgan, not only to yourself, but to everyone around you.”
    I’d been told that before, and it still didn’t bother me. “We can work together, you know. It works with Glenn pretty good. Inderlanders and humans.” I wasn’t going to give this up. I wanted someone on my side.
    The captain’s focus sharpened, his mind clearly on something else. “Tell me about Mathew Glenn.”
    Beside me, Trent stiffened. “Don’t.”
    “He’s one of the most honest, upright people I know,” I said hotly. “You think he’s HAPA? You think he’s working with that nutcase you just carted out of here? He’s dating my