Chapter Five
At ten o’clock that night, Rafe and Moira met Grant in the parking lot of their hotel. It wasn’t raining, but the night had turned cold and a damp mist clouded all the streetlights, casting a gloomy glow across the parking lot. Perfect for Rafe’s current mood.
He glanced at Moira as she slid into the cramped backseat of Grant’s sports car. He wished he’d convinced her to tone it down. She’d told him that they’d stand out more if they went in subtle, and she was probably right, but he didn’t like the way every man in the hotel lobby had turned and stared at her as she crossed the room. She was stunning and sexy.
As if reading his mind, Carter turned in the passenger seat to assess her. He grinned broadly. “Perfect.”
Rafe slammed the door shut and glared at him.
Moira smiled, her lips painted shiny blood red. “I know.”
After leaving the camp and sending Grant the information they’d uncovered, they’d shopped at vintage clothing stores so they could dress appropriately for a club like Defiance. Rafe wore all-black: slacks, a button-down shirt over a T-shirt and trench coat. He reluctantly agreed to let Moira put dark eye make-up around his eyes, which was popular in nocturnal clubs.
Moira wore a red and black lace bodice that pushed her breasts both together and out, a long full black skirt with a slit so high up one side that her garter was visible. Her fishnet stockings ended in boots that went up to her knee. Rafe knew she had her knife concealed but readily accessible in her right boot.
She’d left her long, dark hair down her bare back, concealing her scars. It was naturally wavy, but she’d spent time putting even more curls in. It was her make-up that was the biggest surprise since she rarely wore any—the foundation, the smoky eyes, the dark red lipstick, the long eyelashes. He preferred the natural Moira. He understood why it was important they play the roles, and Moira was already acting the part, making him feel as if she were an imposter.
A black choker adorned with a cameo wrapped around her neck. The cameo was a blessed artifact they’d picked up from a friend of St. Michael’s Order. Inside was a relic of a saint. It wouldn’t protect them completely, but if there was a demon at Defiance, it would reveal itself in some way if close to Moira.
“This plan won’t work,” Rafe said as Grant drove.
“You want in, this is the way to get in,” Carter said. “You’re both perfect. Keep that brooding expression on your face and you’re a shoo-in.” He laughed, and even the sullen Grant cracked a smile, but Rafe didn’t see the humor in the situation.
Rafe considered that he might be jealous, but it wasn’t that—it was that he didn’t like what other people were thinking about Moira. He couldn’t read their minds, but he didn’t have to—the lust was on each man’s face when they looked at her. And Rafe saw how Carter couldn’t take his eyes off Moira. Grant, fortunately, was all business.
“I did a little surveillance,” Grant said. “I can park a block down, kitty corner to the club and keep my eye on the entrance. I’ll be on my radio, Carter has one as well. Small, concealable. I’ll hear everything that’s going on, so stick with Carter.”
“What did you learn from the information about the camp?” Moira asked Grant.
“Between Jeff and me, we contacted the remaining six families who had girls staying in the cabin, plus the counselor. Everyone is accounted for. No one is missing.” He looked glum. “Maybe you’re wrong.”
“Wrong about what?”
“The killer might not be from the victims’ cabin—”
“I said nothing about the killer. I said that someone in that cabin cast a very dangerous truth spell over the place, it killed all the plants in a five foot radius, and she is involved in the coven responsible for Amy’s death.”
“Whoa,” Carter said. “Coven? As in witches and warlocks and broomsticks?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Moira snapped. “We explained earlier about black magic and blood sacrifices.”
“I didn’t take you seriously.”
Rafe took Moira’s hand to keep her from slapping Carter. It jingled with the many bracelets she wore. He said, “If you can’t be serious, and understand that we have a lot of experience with the occult, then you will be a danger to yourself and to us in that club.”
Carter stared at him, but Rafe didn’t back down. Finally, Carter said, “I understand. I’m not necessarily buying into everything you’re saying, but there’s enough weird stuff going on in Defiance that I won’t discount a threat even if I can’t see it.”
Moira asked Grant, “Is something watching the six girls? What about the counselor?”
“What am I supposed to tell them? That they were cursed and if they’re virgins they’re going to have their blood sucked out until their hearts stop beating?”
“What good are the police if you can’t keep your eye on a few girls who are in immediate danger?”
“I don’t have six cops to put on six girls. Not to mention the counselor. Especially on the word of a...a...hell, I don’t even know what to call you. If I even mention psychic to my chief, he’ll laugh his ass off before he fires me.”
“I’m not a psychic!”
Rafe glanced at her. She was, and she knew it though she had never admitted it and fought the designation every step of the way. How else could she explain her visions? She called them dreams, but they didn’t come only in sleep. The vision at the willow tree was only the latest.
Grant didn’t push it. He exited the freeway and almost immediately they were in a light industrial area. The only businesses that were open flashed neon signs proclaiming nude dancers, half-off drinks after midnight, or all-night dancing.
Grant said, “Tomorrow we’re going to go through the rest of the campers—those who weren’t in Amy and Beth’s cabin, but were there the same week.”
“Tomorrow will be too late!”
Grant glared at Moira in the rearview mirror. “You could have screwed up this whole investigation talking to the camp owner. I told you both to stay out of it.”
“Like I care,” Moira snapped. “The only important thing is to stop the ritual that is going to take place tomorrow night.”
“No, the important thing is to find out who killed Amy Carney and put him or her in prison.”
“If this is truly a vampiric coven like we think,” Rafe said, “there’s more than one person involved.”
“Then I want to put them all in prison,” Grant said. “Don’t fuck it up. This is an off-the-books investigation right now—at least related to the club. If there’s nothing there, I want to know so I can focus my efforts elsewhere. If there is a connection, I need something solid that I can take to my boss. Something more than Moira’s psychic feelings.”
Moira rolled her eyes and looked out the window as Grant pulled over on a narrow side street that intersected another narrow street.
“Defiance is across the street, down at the other corner. There’s no visible markings on the building,” Carter said, “but there’s a bouncer. He’s my CI.”
“I need to get out of this car,” Moira said. “This corset or whatever it is they call it is not only too tight, it itches, so let’s get going before I decide dressing like a vamp isn’t necessary for this game.”