A Perfect Blood

thought it was amusing, but I didn’t see anything funny about it.
    That had been about fifteen minutes ago, and I was getting antsy myself as I watched car after car show up and the slow deployment of people and equipment. Wayde was fidgeting by the I.S. van specially designed to hold magic-using criminals. He shouldn’t even be out here, but they were cutting him lots of slack. Jenks was somewhere on the other side of the building. I didn’t like him being gone this long, especially when it was so cold.
    I grimaced, my low boots grinding into the grit. The parking lot was laced with cracks that allowed grass as tall as my thigh to grow, and the entire area reminded me of the tomato cannery that Ivy and I had once stormed when I’d been interning at the I.S. with her. A Were had died that night—one we’d been trying to save. I hoped it wasn’t a premonition. The other Were, though, we’d saved. It bothered me that I couldn’t remember her name.
    I half turned when Glenn broke from the FIB officer he was talking to, his motions sharp as he stomped our way, dress shoes kicking up tiny pebbles and his suit jacket open. Ivy stood, exhaling as she handed me the binoculars. “Please tell me that’s not the tomato cannery,” I said.
    “It’s not,” she said as Glenn stopped between us. His mood was tense, and I could smell his aftershave on the cool night air. There were two yellow FIB vests in his hand, and I eyed them suspiciously. They were probably ACG, but I still didn’t want to wear one.
    “You’ve been here before?” he asked as he handed one to me, and sure enough, my fingers felt the somewhat slimy feel of material coated with an anticharm spray. Maybe if I put it on they wouldn’t give me any crap about being part of the team storming HAPA’s hold.
    Shaking my head no, I put the vest on over my thin leather coat. I wasn’t wearing leather as a matter of style—though it did look good—but as a matter of my not wanting to leave skin grafts on the pavement. Chances were good I’d go down at least once before the sun rose. “No,” I said flatly, not wanting to explain. “Is everyone finally ready to move?”
    His motions holding an excited quickness, Glenn looked at his wrist, the dial softly glowing a faint blue. “No,” he said, and Wayde rubbed his beard and edged closer, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders up about his ears. “Someone from the FIB wants to observe. We wait until she gets here.”
    Ivy rolled her eyes, black in the dim light. “Are they questioning your methods?”
    “I’ve no idea,” Glenn said, his low voice going lower. “They’ve never done this before.”
    A soft “mmm” came from Ivy, and she touched his shoulder. “You’ve never worked this closely with the I.S. before.”
    Wayde’s posture said he wanted to argue with me again, and I turned my back on him, relieved when I spotted Nina striding in from the distant parking area at the head of about six people. “Excuse me,” I said softly, then started her way. I could tell even from this distance and in the dark that it was Nina the DMV clerk, not Nina the dead vamp, and I wanted to talk to her.
    Behind me, I heard Ivy say, “I’m not wearing that,” and Wayde’s nervous laugh.
    Finding a smile somewhere, I pasted it on my face, extending my hand as I approached. The young woman took it, looking a little more unsure than that afternoon in the DMV office. A jumpy wariness had taken the place of her eager, confident excitement, and she looked somewhat wan, even in the dark, her attractive features tight and drawn. Nina the DMV clerk wasn’t looking healthy anymore, even if she was better dressed and had a bevy of people looking to her.
    “How are you doing?” I asked, and her eyes jerked to mine, probably catching the wisp of pity that had arisen from nowhere.
    Her hand pulled from mine, and the positive smile returned—barely hiding a flash of fear. “I’m fine, of course,” she said, her entourage coming to a halt behind her. “Why would I be otherwise?”
    I shrugged, rocking back to get a glimpse of Ivy and Glenn. “I’ve seen how hard it is to have a god inside you,” I said, and her eyes flashed a frightened black. Her hands trembled, and my old vampire scar tingled as she suppressed a rising hunger, a hunger he had instilled in her, one she didn’t have the practice to contain on her own.
    Crap, Ivy hadn’t been kidding, and I stifled a surge of fear. This woman