Heather Fleming

Lady Justice was the stage name of one of the Morpho’s regular showgirls. On her posters she was drawn in the same style as vintage pin up art, wearing a blindfold and little else. That really wasn’t the kind of thing Tobias was into, so he wasn’t that upset when Irons informed him he would be posted in the hallway, outside of the lounge where she was performing that night.

Kelley was more than a bit annoyed with the entire operation, and not just because her post was in the lobby, far from where the real hunt would be going on. “I can’t believe that an exotic dancer is our only lead,” she groused. “This just seems . . . wrong.”

They had regrouped at the Metro’s headquarters and were reviewing what they knew, and deciding on their plan of action. If all the planning went smoothly, Kelley and Irons would have a chance to grab a couple hours of sleep before starting the next stake out. Of course, if Kelley kept going off on prudish tangents, they might not have time. Tobias himself had no need to sleep. His gargoyle blood let him go a week before he had to stop and get some rest, but even then he only needed a three, maybe four hour nap. Still, he preferred that the humans he was working with be at the top of their game, and that wasn’t going to happen if Kelley didn’t shut up.

“This is really quite tame compared to some things I’ve had to do while investigating occult crimes,” Tobias said, making an effort to keep his tone casual. “Once, Lucien and I had to catch a succubus who had taken up residence in a brothel.”

There were a few beats of silence as Kelley absorbed what he said.

“I heard about that,” Irons said, a tremor in his voice from trying to hold back laughter. “Wasn’t that when –”

“I don’t want to know! I don’t want to hear this!” Kelley cut him off quickly. “Let’s just get back to work, please.”

Tobias hid a smirk by taking a drink of coffee. Mission accomplished, he thought. Aloud, he asked, “So what’s the story on our friend Orpheus? He was tailed last night, right?”

“We were too undermanned to keep a tail on him all night,” Irons said. “Security tracked him the entire time he was in the casino, and an unmarked car trailed him when he took a cab home, around ten. He never approached the victim, nor did he set foot on the sixth floor.”

“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have come back,” Kelley pointed out. “He knew he was being filmed every second that he was inside the Morpho. Obviously he wasn’t going to do anything when the people in the security office could trace him back through the different cameras and frames to one that showed him leaving his dressing room or drinking with his girlfriend.”

“But leaving and coming back would be another matter,” Tobias agreed. “It also says something that our murderer seems to know where every single camera in the casino is. He makes it a point to always obscure his face when he’s within a clear shot of a camera. Only someone who’s spent a lot of time here would be that familiar with the security.”

“All of those are good points,” Irons told them, “but not good enough to get Orpheus held on suspicion of anything.”

“Hunters and OCU don’t always bother to get warrants to hold people for questioning,” Tobias said.

“What?” Kelley looked at him in shock. “Are you joking?”

Tobias resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The girl was working for a unit that had more blood curdling secrets than the CIA, yet she had a hard time wrapping her mind around their methods.

“This isn’t a real occult crime,” Irons reminded him. “I’d like to keep things as legal as possible.”

“Are we treating this like a real occult crime, or not?” Tobias asked. “Because if not, I’ve got a friend who could use a little help on a real hunt, with real witches.”

“I want you here,” Irons said. “You know what will happen if word gets out that there’s been a string of Satanic murderers in Las Vegas.”

“Another Satanic Panic,” Tobias said. “Michelle Remembers meets Sin City. Which is why I stayed in the first place, but my presence really doesn’t seem necessary if you’re going to handle this case with kid gloves.”

“If Orpheus isn’t our murderer, then he might decide to run his mouth after he gets released,” Irons reasoned.

“And then you either discredit him as a drug addict or a lunatic,” Tobias said. “At least that’s what you’d do on a real case. But if you want me to handle it the way freelance hunters would –”

“I don’t want you killing an innocent man for no reason.”

Tobias scowled. “That’s good, because I don’t kill innocent people for any reason. Threats have always gotten me as far as I needed. I can keep Orpheus quiet if it turns out that he’s not our guy. Just have him held for twenty-four hours. If no one dies tonight, then we’ve got something to work with. If it turns out that Orpheus isn’t our guy, I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut.”

Irons sighed. “I’ll look for something legitimate to hold Orpheus on – traffic tickets that we could chalk up to reckless endangerment or –”

“He took a cab home from work. He probably doesn’t have a car.”

“Jay walking, tax fraud, whatever,” Irons said irritably. “I’ll do my best to find something to hold him on. In the mean time, you two should get some rest. We’ve all been awake far too long, and if we don’t sleep before tonight then we’re not going to be any use to anyone.”

In Tobias’ opinion, the agents already weren’t of any use to anyone, but he didn’t voice his opinions. Most hunters would have, but he tried to cultivate diplomacy a bit more than many of his peers.

He considered taking their buddy Orpheus for a drive in the desert, to get him clear of the Morpho for the evening. Then they could see if anyone ended up dead while he was stranded outside the city. In the end, he decided against it. If Irons actually did manage to pull through and find some dirt on Orpheus, he’d know immediately that Tobias had done something to the guy. And to be honest, Orpheus wasn’t really that great of a suspect. He was just their only suspect. So far, at least. They hadn’t found any surveillance footage of him stalking any of the murder victims when they were alive. It could have been a coincidence that he’d shown up near the roulette tables the previous day, and if not for that incident, they wouldn’t have even considered him a suspect.

Just thinking about it annoyed Tobias. He actually wished that they were dealing with a real blood mage. Then he’d know immediately if Orpheus was their murderer – his aura would have been so tainted by the perverse power he’d absorbed that Tobias would have been able to feel what he was the moment he laid eyes on him. Abdiel probably would have been able to track him from halfway across the casino, since Abdiel really was that much better than him.

Of course Abdiel hadn’t yet gotten in touch with Tobias, which was another thing that grated on his nerves. It had been over four hours since he’d left his friend that voicemail. Abdiel was usually pretty good about getting back to people. Or at least he was when it was business related. Granted, he was in the middle of the worst week of the year for him, which Tobias was really hoping was the reason why Abdiel hadn’t returned his call. He didn’t want to think about why else his friend might not be calling him back.