Things were dire but EJ wanted to smile. The allure of sex. That he understood.
“Yes,” Walter said, his childhood Jamaican accent stronger, slightly tuned to captivate, to hold her attention. “Just Walter.”
She waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t, she said, “We saw a recording of a woman dropping off a package and then an explosion in a stairway. Weird funky explosion.”
Walter inclined his head just a degree, watching her. “Yes. It was.”
EJ finally grinned. His girlfriend might have tried to kill him, but right now, this was fun.
Rocas said, “The thing you picked up from the concrete planter was an IMED?”
EJ’s attention tightened on her. IMEDs were military demon bombs, a term not used in civilian lingo.
“Yes,” Walter said.
“Why did you pick up an unknown device?” she asked, sounding too curious.
“It’s getting late,” Walter said, using his voice to push her just the smallest bit, to evade her question. “Why don’t we check in with the young lady who left it?”
Her eyes narrowed, as if she knew he was using vamp tricks, and she asked, “How many people inside?”
“Londyn lives alone,” EJ said. “No unfamiliar vehicles on the road or drive.”
In his ear-patch, Alex said, “I just got a security cam to come on. It’s aimed at the back door. There’s blood pooled on the kitchen floor.”
Chapter Seven
EJ
“Mmmm,” Walter said. He had heard too. “Why don’t we check out the back,” Walter suggested to Rocas, letting his voice go soft and mesmerizing, the way the older of his kind still could, “and when we know it’s safe, we can ring the bell, and see if Londyn will let us in.”
Rocas’s eyes narrowed even more at his words.
Impelling her just a bit more with his voice, he added, “Theyoung mencan stay here.”
She took something from his words, something the others didn’t hear. She gave a single nod and said, “Officer Stevens, wait here with the civilian.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said.
EJ put on his headgear, watching as she drew her weapon, which the circumstances she knew of didn’t warrant, checked it, and carried it low at her thigh. She turned into the lawn and opened the back gate. Her words came through an ear-patch, as she jerked her head to the side, into the shadows. “We clear?”
“You are asking me as a vampire, to tell you if we are alone.” Silky tones. Dulcet.
EJ gave in to a grin as he pulled a flute. Walter had the hotsfor Seargent Rocas. He was jazzed. EJ would razz Walter about it later.
“There is no one and nothing in the side or backyard but us,” Walter said, adjusting the headgear so EJ could see what he saw.
The vampire followed her across the grass. Came to an instant stop. EJ heard Walter’s breathing, short sniffs. “Blood confirmed,” Walter subvocalized into his comms. “From the back of the house.”
Rocas hadn’t heard. She moved to the side, heading up the narrow driveway. Her weapon was in a two-hand grip, a null stick in a unicom attachment brace on her offhand. The null stick was an old prewar version, but still effective.
Walter followed, watching everywhere, but his cam always settled on her.
Softly, her back to Walter, she said, “You try that rolling shit with me again, and I’ll break your nose. That’s me talking, not the cop. Understood?”
Walter took a sharp breath. EJ figured he was surprised and EJ chuckled, just loud enough for Walter to pick it up on his patches.
“Indeed, Sergeant. Please forgive me.”
