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“He was pale as a ghost,” Miranda said. “But I didn’t see his face. He was wearing black. They always do,” she said, gesturing in my direction.
Gwen cocked her head. “How did you know he was pale if you didn’t see his face?”
“He didn’t wear gloves. Had on a jacket with a hood, long sleeves. But no gloves,” she said again.
So it was light enough that she could tell the color of his hands, but not catch a glimpse of any part of his face?
“Got it,” Gwen said. If she found anything weird about Miranda’s answer, she didn’t dwell on it. “What happened after he hurt you?”
“Like I said, he ran off.”
“Which direction?”
She lifted a careless shoulder. “Away from the bar. South, I think. I was bleeding, and wasn’t really paying attention.”
“You haven’t shifted yet,” Gwen said. “I understand that would resolve the injury.”
“It will. I wanted to, you know, preserve the evidence.”
Gwen nodded with approval, crossed one leg over the other. Just two women having a chat. “That was smart. Very smart. Now, did you recognize anything about the attacker?”
“Other than the fact that he was a vampire?” Her tone was dry, and had several of her allies chortling.
“How do you know that?” I asked, and all eyes in the room turned to me.
“Remember where you are,” Gabriel said, voice low and threatening. If I didn’t know Connor had clued him in, I’d have slunk right out of the room.
“Hey, watch the tone,” Theo said, moving a little closer to me. “It’s a reasonable question.”
“Can we please focus on Ms. Mitchell?” Gwen asked. “This isn’t helpful.”
Miranda’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I can tell when some asshole’s a vampire. I can feel the magic.”
“Did you see his fangs?” I asked.
“I said he had his hood up. Did you not hear me?”
“Elisa,” Connor said, sharply, and I closed my mouth, made a point of glaring at his back.
“Did the vampire look familiar to you?” Gwen asked, drawing Miranda’s attention back to her.
“I don’t know. Maybe?” She looked at me speculatively. “Maybe there was something familiar about him.”
“What something?” Gwen asked.
“I don’t know. I said ‘maybe.’” The words were quick, impatient. And didn’t sound very convincing. What would have been familiar about a vampire whose face she couldn’t see?
Gwen sat up straight, brows lifted. “So, do you think he was a local vampire? Not one of the vamps from the AAM?”
“I don’t know. Could have been either.” A shoulder rose, fell. “I don’t pay attention to that political shit.”
Another lie, and I could see it in the shift of her eyes.
“Believe me, I get it. It’s always something with them.” Gwen’s eyes narrowed, then she slid her gaze to Connor. “Weren’t you attacked by a vampire yesterday right outside the building?”
“We don’t know it was a vampire,” Connor gritted out. “Not for sure.”
“He was nearly run over,” Miranda couldn’t wait to say. “They damaged his bike, too.”
