Page 169 of Death is Familiar

Who would know the location of all the vamp gatherings and fang ceremonies? Who was responsible for the crosses at events? Who did the, now deceased, familiars trust enough to leave with after the fang ceremonies? Who would have access to the surveillance room, and know how to avoid being on camera? Who would believe in vampire culture enough, or despise it enough, to actively kill familiars after fang ceremonies?

If I thought about it, an apothecary staffed by ex-familiars would be a good front for anti-vampers. And an apothecary was exactly the sort of place a wannabe vamp would be drawn to.

Hell, even the elfish woman, Selena Belle, had mentioned her love for the local apothecary. And she was one of the mugging victims. If we dug into each of the mugging victim’s histories, I was confident we’d find some tie to the apothecary or the people that worked there. And now, with Lenore’s purchase of event supplies, soaps, candles, and crystals in cash, and the likelihood of Hank and his team being paid for anti-vamp activity…

“Pretty fucking sure, but we are still going to need proof.” And I knew how to get it, preferably, before Fawzy got put in a position where ‘four or five’ people would try and take her hostage. “How are your lock picking skills, Jez?”

A sly smile spread across her face.

Operation Divide and Conquer was born.

40

Two hours later, the sun had set, and the fang ceremony was in full swing. Bodies were writhing, tension pooling, vamps and familiars alike grinding against one another on the dance floor as we marched steadily towards the evening’s prescheduled activities, where Carmen would bite Fawzy and we’d draw the anti-vampers out of the woodwork.

I’d been a good little FBI helper and told the agents about my suspicions, and the dots I connected after witnessing the envelope change hands. To which Zhou promptly attempted to punch holes in my theory and point out the lack of proof, including zero connection to epinephrine or the former nurse who was responsible for restarting a familiar’s heart—Henry Day. I bit my tongue and accepted the criticism, the points Zhou made were valid. If the man from the apothecary’s name had been Henry instead of Hank Something-or-other, I might have had more sway.

Either way, I wasn’t going to let Zhou’s critique deter me, so my first stop was the surveillance room where I rewound the security footage to identify the apothecary event staff and circulated them. Though I’d been warned to keep an open mind, to assume the suspects were innocent until proven guilty, I committed each of the four faces to memory.

And where they stored their phones.

Stationed in vehicles Zhou, Kaatz, and Thruppy were all given live feeds of the security footage, ready to intercept if Fawzy was taken beyond the fang ceremony threshold. Either we needed indisputable evidence tying whoever was responsible for the murders to the deaths of the familiars, or to force Fawzy to a secondary location, with probable cause, in order for the sting operation to gather sufficient evidence to determine guilt.

The only problem with that was the vamp-hunters were likely to jab her full of epinephrine the second they got her into a vehicle.

Which is where part one of Operation Divide and Conquer came in. My goal was to even the playing field, and lower the number of targets on Fawzy’s back, while drawing the ringleader out into the open.

The plan didn’t involve anything against the law, really. But that ultimately depended on how much the suspects fought back. Worst case scenario, I “accidentally” locked someone innocent in a room for an hour or two and damaged their phones. Nothing sinister.

“I don’t like the look on your face.” The music was so loud, bass pumping, Jack’s lips were pressed against my ear and he still had to shout, “It looks like you’re planning something.”

“I’m just dancing.” And waiting, but with the pressure of my passenger on my diaphragm, and my bladder, I didn’t feel like I was going to last much longer. “What’s the quickest route to the restroom?”

“Don’t seek them out. Your job is to observe. Report back. That’s it.”

“I won’t seek them out.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And it was the truth, because they were going to seek me.

†

“You’re sure about this, darling?”

“Yes.” Looking at our reflection in the restroom mirror, I balled my hands into fists. “Do it.”

“Always so defiant. I’d prefer if you found pleasure from my bite.”

“If you don’t want to do this, Carmen, I can figure something else out, I just⁠—"

Carmen sunk her teeth into my neck.

†

The bite was messier than I’d planned. Carmen didn’t puncture deep, or near any of the vital arteries, but the wound sure took its time to close, leaving a couple not-so-faded streaks in its wake. Part of the plan required getting attention, and, well, this would get it.