the nightmare vision of what used to be an attractive young woman.
‘Blackman!’ he snaps.
My head jerks. ‘Sorry,’ I mumble. ‘It’s fine.’
‘Good.’ He moves to the far wall, leaning his large body against it, his brows shoved together in a frown as he tracks my every move.
I do what I can to ignore him and sit down on the white plastic chair next to Corinne’s bed. ‘I’m Bo,’ I say gently. ‘I’m a vampire.’
I’m sure she’d scowl if her face were still capable of expression. ‘I’ve not been fucking brain-damaged, you know.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just I’d like to talk to you about what happened and I’ll understand if you’re not comfortable discussing it with a vampire.’
Her eye slides away. ‘Got a dick?’
‘No.’
‘Then I ain’t got a problem.’
I nod. ‘I might ask you questions you’ve already answered, but it’d really help if you could repeat what you said before.’
Her head turns towards Foxworthy. ‘How many times am I going to have to do this?’
I touch her hand lightly. She flinches but doesn’t pull away. ‘As often as it takes to make sure the bastard who did this doesn’t ever do it again.’
She sniffs disgustedly but I sense her acquiescence.
‘Where were you when he attacked?’
‘On my way to meet a friend. I was waiting for a bus and he came out of nowhere. Had some kind of sedan car. He asked me if I wanted a lift and, when I declined, he grabbed me, punched me in the face and threw me into the back seat.’
‘Do you know what time it was?’
‘Around seven.’
It’s late enough in the year that seven o’clock is already dark. That doesn’t make a difference as far as most vampires are concerned – other than Matt and myself, bloodguzzlers aren’t allowed on the streets until they’re strong enough to cope with the sun – but the darkness would make it easier to abduct someone.
I glance at Foxworthy. ‘Were there any witnesses?’ He shakes his head, his eyes dark and brooding. ‘CCTV?’
‘No.’
‘What happened then, Corinne?’
‘I tried to get out but he locked the doors. He hit me again and I passed out. When I woke up I was in the park.’
‘Jubilee?’ She nods. ‘It’s a busy place,’ I comment. ‘He must have done something to avoid being noticed.’
She closes her eye. ‘He waited until I came to. He wanted me awake to see what he was doing. To make sure I wouldn’t miss a second.’ Her voice is cold and bitter. ‘When he started with the stakes, hammering them into my hands, I was screaming like a banshee. Someone should have heard.’
‘We’re looking into spell traces,’ Foxworthy interrupts.
There are privacy spells all over the place. They’re usually used in residential areas, and I’ve heard they’re a godsend these days for adult children who are unable to afford to fly the family nest. No matter how good the spell was though, the perp was taking a hell of a risk by choosing such a public area.
‘What did he look like?’
‘When I came round, he was wearing a balaclava and I couldn’t see a damn thing,’ Corinne says. ‘After I fainted a second time, he took it off. I guess he thought I was going to die so it didn’t matter what I saw. Six foot, brown hair, nose, eyes, mouth.’ She is obviously tiring of the questions.
‘Here.’ Foxworthy waves a piece of paper. When it becomes clear he’s not going to bring it to me, I struggle to my feet and shuffle forward. The longer these bloody handcuffs are on for, the more debilitating they become.
It’s a photofit. The man is good-looking, even with the harsh angles provided by the computer programme. I know it makes no sense but it seems unfair that he’s not as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside. He has a square jaw, short, wavy chocolate-brown hair and a brilliant white smile. His eyes are hazel and include the little red dot that signifies vampire. It’s a detailed photofit. It wouldn’t take long to compare
‘Blackman!’ he snaps.
My head jerks. ‘Sorry,’ I mumble. ‘It’s fine.’
‘Good.’ He moves to the far wall, leaning his large body against it, his brows shoved together in a frown as he tracks my every move.
I do what I can to ignore him and sit down on the white plastic chair next to Corinne’s bed. ‘I’m Bo,’ I say gently. ‘I’m a vampire.’
I’m sure she’d scowl if her face were still capable of expression. ‘I’ve not been fucking brain-damaged, you know.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just I’d like to talk to you about what happened and I’ll understand if you’re not comfortable discussing it with a vampire.’
Her eye slides away. ‘Got a dick?’
‘No.’
‘Then I ain’t got a problem.’
I nod. ‘I might ask you questions you’ve already answered, but it’d really help if you could repeat what you said before.’
Her head turns towards Foxworthy. ‘How many times am I going to have to do this?’
I touch her hand lightly. She flinches but doesn’t pull away. ‘As often as it takes to make sure the bastard who did this doesn’t ever do it again.’
She sniffs disgustedly but I sense her acquiescence.
‘Where were you when he attacked?’
‘On my way to meet a friend. I was waiting for a bus and he came out of nowhere. Had some kind of sedan car. He asked me if I wanted a lift and, when I declined, he grabbed me, punched me in the face and threw me into the back seat.’
‘Do you know what time it was?’
‘Around seven.’
It’s late enough in the year that seven o’clock is already dark. That doesn’t make a difference as far as most vampires are concerned – other than Matt and myself, bloodguzzlers aren’t allowed on the streets until they’re strong enough to cope with the sun – but the darkness would make it easier to abduct someone.
I glance at Foxworthy. ‘Were there any witnesses?’ He shakes his head, his eyes dark and brooding. ‘CCTV?’
‘No.’
‘What happened then, Corinne?’
‘I tried to get out but he locked the doors. He hit me again and I passed out. When I woke up I was in the park.’
‘Jubilee?’ She nods. ‘It’s a busy place,’ I comment. ‘He must have done something to avoid being noticed.’
She closes her eye. ‘He waited until I came to. He wanted me awake to see what he was doing. To make sure I wouldn’t miss a second.’ Her voice is cold and bitter. ‘When he started with the stakes, hammering them into my hands, I was screaming like a banshee. Someone should have heard.’
‘We’re looking into spell traces,’ Foxworthy interrupts.
There are privacy spells all over the place. They’re usually used in residential areas, and I’ve heard they’re a godsend these days for adult children who are unable to afford to fly the family nest. No matter how good the spell was though, the perp was taking a hell of a risk by choosing such a public area.
‘What did he look like?’
‘When I came round, he was wearing a balaclava and I couldn’t see a damn thing,’ Corinne says. ‘After I fainted a second time, he took it off. I guess he thought I was going to die so it didn’t matter what I saw. Six foot, brown hair, nose, eyes, mouth.’ She is obviously tiring of the questions.
‘Here.’ Foxworthy waves a piece of paper. When it becomes clear he’s not going to bring it to me, I struggle to my feet and shuffle forward. The longer these bloody handcuffs are on for, the more debilitating they become.
It’s a photofit. The man is good-looking, even with the harsh angles provided by the computer programme. I know it makes no sense but it seems unfair that he’s not as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside. He has a square jaw, short, wavy chocolate-brown hair and a brilliant white smile. His eyes are hazel and include the little red dot that signifies vampire. It’s a detailed photofit. It wouldn’t take long to compare
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