“You’re probably right.”
My mouth opened, ready to say something else, but I suddenly felt…something…and stopped.
“Red?”
I didn’t answer, trying to figure out what it was. Similar to the alarm in my head, it was something, but not a break-in or trespassing.
“What is it?” he asked again.
I glanced about the room. Everyone was here except the doc, Theo and—
“Beverley.”
I ran down the hall. From the doorway, I saw that my living room window was open. “No!” If the vampires had lured her out—
With Johnny at my heels, I flung open the door. In the dim light from the open car door, Beverley stood before Goliath, who leaned against the rear quarter panel of the limo.
I bolted without considering that I was leaving the safety of my home and its perimeter wards behind.
“Red!” Johnny called after me. He’d stopped on the edge of the porch. “Red!”
“Beverley!”
She faced me. If she had been bespelled, she wouldn’t have been able to do that. “Seph, I have to know,” she said as I neared and slowed.
Menessos slid from the seat, but left his door open. I stopped a few paces away, glad to hear Johnny coming up behind me. “Know what?”
Beverley turned back to Goliath. “Did you? Did you kill my mother?”
The vampire lowered himself to one knee before her and took her hands in his. It was such a gentle and humble and caring human gesture; I could hardly believe my eyes.
“Why would you think that?” he asked. He faced me, and I saw anger rising hot and swift. He stood, releasing her hands. “You told her this?”
Johnny caught up to us, and Erik was swiftly running to join us also. I stood firm. “Vivian claims that you are the murderer.”
Goliath and Menessos exchanged a look. It wasn’t an “oh-no-they-know” look. It was the “she’s-such-a-bitch” look that had—in reference to Vivian—passed over the faces of everyone in my house at one time or another in the last twenty-four hours, so I recognized it well.
“Red?” Johnny prompted.
“That’s why you were checking my background,” Goliath snapped.
Before I could respond, Beverley blurted, “Vivian hired her to kill you.”
Goliath laughed. “Hired you to get yourself killed.”
Beverley grabbed his coat in both hands. “Did you kill my mother?” Her voice was taut, her eyes glistening with tears about to fall.
He turned back to her and again wrapped his hands over hers. “Of course not. I loved your mother. You know that.”
Seeing Goliath being downright parental gave me a chill. Menessos stepped closer to me; Johnny and Erik countered, growling, but the vampire was unaffected by them. “You’ve been conned into the middle of a fight that isn’t yours, Persephone,” Menessos said. Though I was keeping my eyes from his, I knew he was staring at me, his expression one of someone admiring a painting or ancient vase. It creeped me out.
“I don’t understand.”
“Lorrie was killed for nothing more than petty jealousy.” His tone was neutral. “Over Goliath. In order to shame Lorrie’s memory with media coverage and hysteria and to further slur the wæres of the world, the killer left those symbols on the wall.”
Of course they were going to point the finger elsewhere.
Then it hit me.
“Jealousy?” I repeated. All my blood dropped to the soles of my feet. “Then you know who killed Lorrie?” If the motive had been jealousy, it could only have been one person. It had been in front of me the whole time. The newspaper said symbols were drawn on Lorrie’s walls…but she said “occult symbols” at the coffee shop. She’d only know that if she drew them…
“I do,” he said. “She must have believed you would be able to surprise Goliath enough to distract him, and thereby injure him or get a fortunate shot,” Menessos muttered.
“Never,” Goliath affirmed with sinister quiet.
“But if she was jealous, why hire me to kill the one she was jealous over?”
“An offering,” Goliath said, then added with disquieting calm: “She would send you to me as a make-up gift, and once I had had you, bled you, and knew why you had come, I would have to thank her.”
I wasn’t buying that. She’d spent too much money and was too Council-hungry.
Beverley said, “Who did it? Who?” She left Goliath and grabbed Menessos’s arm. “Who?”
“Can you prove it?” I asked. I didn’t want to be duped twice, even if their claim and my recollection made it logical.
“I do not have to,” Menessos said.
I squared my shoulders and met his gaze. “Yes, you do.”
He smiled smugly. “Ask her. Confront her. She will not deny it. She’s too proud of her work to not claim the credit for it once the ruse is revealed.”
“Who?” Beverley pleaded and tugged at his arm.
Menessos faced her after a mildly distasteful glance at her hand on his arm. “Vivian. Vivian murdered your mother, child.”
Beverley became utterly still. I wanted to touch her, comfort her, but she looked so fragile, it seemed any touch might shatter her. She whispered, “They gave me to her. My mom trusted her!” She turned slowly to the house.
Johnny and I shared a look. We didn’t know what to say or do. Were the vampires lying? Maybe. But if not, I wanted to turn Vivian over to them now and be done with it. Beverley couldn’t be expected to stay in the same house as her mother’s killer—
Beverley had slipped away from us and was already halfway to the house. “Beverley, no!” I shouted. Johnny ran after her, but even with his long legs and speed, he couldn’t get to her before she dashed inside.
I followed, Erik behind me. It wasn’t that I was faster than he, just that he kept himself between me and the vampires. Inside, I stopped in the kitchen beside Johnny. Beverley was standing before Vivian, hands clenched at her sides as she glowered at our prisoner. Slowly she reached up and took down the gag.
“I know what you did,” the little girl whispered. “You murdered my mother.” As she spoke, she wrenched the bandanna-gag in her hand, tightening it around Vivian’s neck. I moved to step in, but Johnny put an arm out to stop me. Nana and Celia had stopped what they were doing when the girl had run in. They now sat staring, shocked silent at what she just said.
“I was sleeping in the next room while you painted the wall with her blood!” Beverley continued. Vivian’s mouth worked soundlessly; she was turning purple. “You were supposed to be her friend!” She let go of the bandanna and hit Vivian hard with a balled-up fist. “And you took me in! Why? Why would you bother to take me in if you hated my mother so much?”
Wheezing, Vivian slowly brought her head around. For a second I thought of The Exorcist and wondered if that evil-looking face was going to go all the way around. Vivian said, “It would have been suspicious not to.”
Beverley slowly backed away, then turned and ran.
Even after Menessos’s claim, I had expected Vivian to deny it. She started laughing.
I stalked over, put the gag back, and left. Upstairs, I went to Dr. Lincoln. “Fix me a dose of morphine, enough to knock Vivian out and keep her out.”
He gaped at me, dumbfounded.
“Now,” I said, teeth clenched.
He moved into action, started filling a syringe. “I’m not sure of the dose.”
“Your best guess, Doctor.”
“Here.” He handed me a syringe with triple what we gave Theo.
“Thank you.” In the kitchen, I jerked the safety cap off and threw it. Taking a handful of Vivian’s hair, I steadied her head and jabbed the needle viciously into the vein in her neck.
“Shit, Seph!” Celia whispered.
Vivian sucked air sharply through her nose.
“I thought you’d be used to having sharp, pointy things in your neck,” I snarled as I depressed the plunger slowly.
She’d revealed to everyone that I’d taken her money to assassinate a vampire. Now everyone knew she was the killer.
“I agreed to kill for justice—there’s at least some merit in that. But you—you killed for jealousy and spite. Now I can’t wait to give you to them.”