TWENTY-FIVE

T HERE WERE THREE GUARDS OUTSIDE MY hospital room, and I was on the eleventh floor. They’d even cleared this part of the wing-I knew this from the silence in the rooms next to me. Apparently they took killing the governor seriously.

Doctors had been coming in all morning to gasp and gape over me, but it wasn’t because of who I’d killed. It was because of how I’d healed. Within hours, my three bullet holes had disappeared. The knife wound, gone. Hennessey’s fang marks, missing. All of my scratches and bruises, vanished. I didn’t even have an IV in me-the needle kept spontaneously slipping out. Frankly, I wondered why I hadn’t been moved to a regular jail cell yet, but after Isaac, I wasn’t complaining about the lack of police transportation.

At noon, more footsteps approached my room. Someone said, “FBI.” There was a pause, and then my door opened.

A man entered. He was about fifty, of average height, with thinning charcoal hair overrun with gray. His eyes were the same medium gray as his hair, but they weren’t sedate like their shade. They were crackling with intelligence. His companion who closed the door after him was considerably younger, perhaps in his late twenties. He had short brown hair in a buzz cut, and something about the way he carried himself screamed military to me. His eyes were navy blue and fixed on me with steadfast intensity.

“FBI, huh? Well, aren’t I honored?” They didn’t need extrasensory perception to catch my sarcasm. The younger man shot me a dirty look.

Gray Hair smiled instead, and came forward with hand extended.

“You might not be, but I certainly am. My name is Donald Williams and this is Tate Bradley. I’m the head of a unit in the FBI called the Paranormal Behavior Division.”

Grudgingly I shook his hand, years of manners making it impossible to refuse. With a jerk of my head I indicated Tate Bradley.

“What about him? He’s not Bureau…no cellulite or spare tire.”

Williams laughed, showing teeth slightly discolored from too much coffee or cigarettes.

“That’s correct. Tate is a sergeant in the Special Forces, a very select unit of them. He is my bodyguard today.”

“Why would you need a bodyguard, Agent Williams? As you can see, I’m handcuffed to the bed.” For effect, I rattled my cuffs at him.

He smiled benevolently. “Call me Don, and I’m a cautious man. That’s why Tate is carrying a Colt 45.”

The younger man flashed me the handle of his gun strapped in its shoulder harness. I smiled thinly at him and he returned it with an unfriendly baring of teeth.

“Okay, I’m shivering. Properly cowed. Now, what do you want?”

Not that I couldn’t guess. They probably wanted a confession that I’d killed the governor, a motive, etc., but I intended to clam up and then get the hell out of Dodge. Bones would be coming soon, I had no doubt, and along with my mother, we’d go into hiding. There were still two vampires who’d gotten away, and it would be too dangerous for my mother to remain in public in case there was retribution after the bloodbath Bones and I had unleashed. Both vampire and political.

“You’re a college student, getting excellent grades as well, from what we saw. Do you like literary quotes?”

Okay, an intelligence quiz. Not what I’d expected, but I would play along. “Depends.”

Don pulled up a chair without invitation and sat next to my bedside. Bradley remained standing, his hand fingering the butt of his gun pointedly.

“How about this one from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes: When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

A warning shiver went through me. These two weren’t giving off dangerous vibes, so I didn’t think they were more of Oliver’s or Hennessey’s goons, but they obviously weren’t to be taken lightly, either.

“What about it?”

“Catherine, I’m head of a division that investigates the unnatural occurrences of homicides. Now, most people think that every homicide is unnatural in nature, but you and I know they can go even deeper than humanity’s wrath against humanity, don’t we?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Don ignored that. “Our division isn’t publicly recognized by the Bureau. In fact, we’re a combination of CIA, FBI, and the armed forces. One of the few times those groups work in harmony. That’s why I selected Mr. Bradley as my backup and not some rookie fresh out of basic. He’s been training to head up a new unit of soldiers to fight a very special kind of battle. One that has been waged under our noses on our own soil for centuries. You know of what I speak, Catherine, and you know it better than anyone else. Let’s quit being coy. I’m talking about vampires.”

Holy Mary, Mother of God, he’d just said the V-word. Now I was more than wary-I was stricken.

“Aren’t you a little old to believe in vampires, Don?” Perhaps I could brazen it out. Maybe he was just fishing with a very big piece of bait.

Don didn’t smile now. His expression was granite. “I’ve examined many strange bodies over the course of my career. Bodies that were dated to be anywhere from a hundred years old to a thousand, and yet were dressed in modern clothes. Now, that could be explained away, but their pathology can’t. Their DNA contained a mutation never before documented in human or animal history. Every so often, we’d run across one of these unusual corpses, and the mystery behind them deepened. That house last night was littered with those abnormal bodies, and so was the governor’s. It was the largest cache of such bodies we’ve ever come across, but do you know what our greatest find was? You.”

Don’s tone lowered. “I’ve spent the last six hours reading every scrap of material I could find about you. Your mother reported a date rape a little more than twenty-two years ago and told of an implausible attacker who drank her blood. She was considered to be overwrought and the details were ignored. Then you were born five months later. And they never caught the perpetrator of that crime.”

“What of it? My mother was hysterical from the trauma of being raped.”

“I disagree. Your mother told the exact truth, except no one would ever believe her. Certain details she described were too specific. The sudden glowing of eyes to green, fangs protruding, incredible strength and speed, things she never could have heard anywhere else. Where her story differs from all others is that she gave birth to you. You, who according to Pathology have the same strain of mutation in your blood as our mysterious corpses. Less potency but no difference in the genetic structure. You see, Catherine, I’m honored to meet you because I’ve been looking for someone like you my entire career. You’re one of them and yet not one of them, the offspring of a human and a vampire. That makes you the most valuable find in centuries.”

Motherfucker. I should have run for it at the governor’s house, bullets be damned.

“That’s quite a story, but many people have rare blood types and psychotic mothers. I assure you, I am no different than any other girl my age. Furthermore, there is no such thing as vampires.”

Even my voice sounded steady. Bones would be so proud.

“Is that so?” Don stood and nodded to Tate Bradley. “Sergeant, I’m about to give you a direct order. Carry it out at once. Shoot Miss Crawfield in the head, right between the eyes.”

Whoa. I sprang off the bed and tore the metal bed rail from its welded perch, swinging it at the hand that raised the gun at me. There was a crack of broken bones. In the same smooth motion, I kneecapped Don while ripping the gun out of Bradley’s hand and holding it firmly to his head.

“I am so sick of being shot, and someone should tell you guys to have a little more respect for hospitals!”

Don, face first on the floor, pushed slowly over to look up at me. The expression on his face was pure satisfaction.