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“Yeah, we probably should have mentioned that sooner. “Turns out the guy used as the last sacrifice was a vampire. It took ages to figure it out, though, because Lily’s healing chamber puts people in a near-death state as it is, so not to shock their systems as they get better. It wasn’t until he was out that we realized the no-pulse thing wasn’t a glitch, he was already undead.”
Vampire blood.
Of course.
Not only were the vampires managing the ceremonies, they were trying to use vampire blood, too, which would be way stronger than any offering from a mortal.
Davos had tried using two humans at once, but when that didn’t work, he must have decided to go for the big guns. Really big guns.
I couldn’t believe how stupid I felt in that moment. I had been thinking about every aspect of this wrong from the start. The clues had been there, each detail laid out, and instead of putting the pieces together I had thrown them in the air and asked, What does it all mean?
Of course they were going to use Sig for the ceremony. What better than the blood of a two-thousand-year-old vampire to open a portal to Hell? If using a measly grunt warden had worked well in Los Angeles and been enough to release two demons before we shut it down, I had to imagine the portal opened by Sig’s blood would be vastly more potent.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of that. It was so damned obvious it could have bitten me. I’d been so focused on the smaller details, like what they were using Ingrid for, and why Sig would hold off on Davos’s warrant, and their continued attempts to use human sacrifices, that I had absolutely missed the big picture.
“Harold, you’re a genius.”
“Is there a chance we could negotiate on tha
t name a little?”
“Are you going to tell me your real one?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then I can call you Harry if you’d prefer.” If he wouldn’t give me his real demonic name, then he was going to be called whatever the hell I wanted to call him, and he should be happy I didn’t feel like giving him the name Shit Burger. Harold seemed nice by comparison.
He sighed. “Fine.”
“Harry it is.”
I turned onto the next block and navigated by memory until we were at the 76th Precinct building. Parking the car, I looked over at Emilio.
“Fancy an interrogation?”
“Why, Ms. McQueen. I didn’t get you anything.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It didn’t take much convincing for Mercedes to let us in to see Davos.
I got the feeling that she was already fed up with him and welcomed outside pressure when it came to putting some heat on him. I also got the feeling she wasn’t thrilled with all the favors I was asking for, because when I called she had said, With you back in town I might as well be on the night shift again.
Though I had no false illusions about him telling us the truth about where Sig was, I was pissed off about the attack earlier that afternoon, and more than a little mad at myself for not drawing the most obvious conclusion in the world.
I needed to take that out on someone.
Davos seemed like a good place to put my anger.
A regular interrogation room wasn’t equipped for a one-on-one chat with the vampire. While human law enforcement was slowly learning how to deal with supernatural enemies, their budgets didn’t suddenly get bigger overnight. Each precinct in the city had a sunproof cell to handle vampires, but most of them weren’t set up like our lab in L.A. yet, meaning no reinforced doors or windows. A vampire could pretty easily get out of a human interrogation room.
Which meant we were chatting with Davos in his cell, located in the precinct’s basement.
I didn’t have the most warm and fuzzy memories of being down here, considering last time I made the trip it involved seeing my ex-boyfriend get his spine ripped out by a demon.
Literally.
Since Harry wasn’t here in an official FBI role—no badge—Mercedes couldn’t let him join us. Rules were rules. He was upstairs in an interrogation room, waiting for us. I hoped.
