A Perfect Blood

if we get anything we can use in court from this,” she said disparagingly, her gaze dropping to the char that was once evidence.
    “Someone broke early,” I said before Glenn could say anything. “An alarm went off. We were lucky we even got this much.”
    “Especially when some jack-crap lunker cut the power to the elevators before the doors opened!” Jenks added, and I swear I saw Dr. Cordova’s eye twitch.
    “Get a team in the escape tunnel,” she said shortly, and the FIB officer looked past her at Glenn for direction. That time, I know I saw her eye twitch, and when Glenn gave the man a slight nod, the officer spun away, calling out names and converging on the hole with flashlights.
    The suspects were long gone, though. Their departure had been executed with too much precision, too much . . . polished talent. I’d heard that HAPA had bases hidden in the Smoky Mountains, training areas and breeding grounds for hate cells. They knew what they were doing. And they were using magic?
    Turning my back on Dr. Cordova’s ongoing harangue, I dropped the wad of my FIB vest and looked past the dead man and Nina, still unconscious but arranged to look like she was sleeping. In the corner, as yet untouched and hopefully a source of fingerprints, was a makeshift kitchen and five cots.
    Ivy sighed as she eased up beside me. “Better wake up Nina,” she said as she rubbed her scraped elbow. There was an ugly handprint on her neck that I was sure was going to bruise.
    Dr. Cordova’s voice cut off in midthreat, and she barked out, “Why?”
    I looked her up and down. “Because it’s polite,” I said, pulling out one of my vials and dousing Nina with it.
    “Give her room,” Ivy said, pulling me back as the young vampire gasped, her eyes flashing open wide to show they were utterly black.
    “No!” she cried out in a frightened, high-pitched voice.
    The click of safeties going off was scary as people fell into defensive postures, but Ivy put a hand up. “Wait,” she said sadly, and Nina’s pupils shrank.
    Nina sat up, her expression becoming frightened as she saw everyone looking at her. Her roving eyes landed on the body, and her lips parted in horror. “No, no, no!” she cried out, clearly Nina and not Felix, hunching into herself as she sat on the cold floor. “I couldn’t . . . stop.” Her face wet with tears, she looked at Ivy. “Please. Make it stop,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to. It was too much. I couldn’t stop! ”
    The last had been an anguished cry of heartache, and I felt a wash of pity. Ivy brushed past me. Kneeling beside Nina, she took her in her arms and held her as she wept. The FIB officers turned away, uncomfortable and not knowing what to do. Hell, I didn’t know what to do. I had a bad feeling that Nina had overpowered Felix, even as the dead vampire had tried to stop her from killing that man. The power had been too much, and she’d lost it, exactly as Ivy had said.
    Glenn crouched beside Ivy and Nina, his hand going out in a show of support. “Let me help you upstairs,” he said softly, and Nina jumped, shrinking back as he touched her.
    “Don’t touch me!” she shouted, cutting through the softer conversations. Her voice was panicked, and my sympathy deepened.
    Dr. Cordova cleared her throat. “Detective, can I speak with you a moment. You and your . . . team?”
    It wasn’t a question. Glenn and Ivy exchanged knowing looks over the huddled, shaking woman, and he drew back, standing with a resigned air. Behind him, Dr. Cordova waited, clearly eager to punch him a new one. Behind her, a mix of Inderland and human cops all reluctantly gathered closer.
    “I’ll take her upstairs,” Ivy said. Jenks landed on my shoulder, and we watched Ivy lead the stumbling woman past the plastic sheets still hanging and to the elevator, presumably. If anyone could help Nina, it would be Ivy—and Nina was going to need help.
    “Put her in the van,” Dr. Cordova said. “She’s going into custody for the murder of that man.”
    “What?” I shouted, spinning around so fast that Jenks took off, startled.
    “She murdered Kenny!” the woman tied to the chair screeched, moving the chair as she all but jumped up and down in it. “That clot murdered Kenny! I saw her do it! You all did!”
    “You’ve got to be joking!” I said, aghast, but Glenn was wincing, his head down. Ivy kept moving, her stance at once aggressive, protective, and defiant with her arm over the