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He froze when he saw the body. “Fuck me,” he said. “Intel was right.”
“Marcus Braddock.” Tucker sucked in a breath. “This is gonna get messy.”
Doyle peered down at the ghostly pale form of retired judge Marcus Braddock. By all accounts, the man had been a shape-shifting son of a bitch, but that didn’t mean Doyle would wish murder on him. And this particular cause of death was the worst kind of murder. The draining of a human or para-human was a Class Five homicide in violation of the Fifth International Concordat, and punishable by public execution. Bad shit all the way around.
Tucker was squatting near the body, his hand reaching for Braddock’s collar when the rat-faced little med tech shoved his hand out of the way. “What the hell are you doing? You aren’t gloved.”
“Careful,” Tucker said mildly. “Do that again, and you’ll lose a few brain cells.”
The rat hesitated, confused. Then Sanchez stepped up. She signaled to the rat with a jerk of her chin. “Go ahead. Show the Feds what they want to see.”
Ratboy’s eyes narrowed, but he used his gloved hand to tug the collar down, revealing the ripped flesh and brutalized muscle.
Bloody vampires. Despite the Concordat and the strict laws against contact feeding, it seemed like every time Doyle turned around one of the fuckmongers had sucked somebody dry.
He clenched his fists at his sides, hating their weakness. Disgusted by their lack of restraint. And, yeah, he’d seen all the damn statistics that showed that the vast majority of vampires could control the darkness within. That they didn’t feed on humans. That they didn’t kill. That they obeyed the law.
That they weren’t the walking, talking incarnation of pure, fucking evil that Doyle knew they were.
Statistics be damned. As far as Doyle was concerned, the only good vamp was a dead one.
Marcus Braddock may have been a Therian prick—on and off the bench—but Doyle was going to make sure that the rogue vampire who sucked the life from him went down—with either a stake through the heart or an ax to the head.
“I would have said serial killer until you boys showed up,” Sanchez said, her comments pulling Doyle back to the moment.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “This is much worse.”
“Worse how?” Constantine asked, her eyes on the wound rather than Doyle.
“That’s something I’m not at liberty to say.” He conjured a smile. “Federal jurisdiction, remember?”
She shot him a rage-filled glance, but to her credit, she said nothing.
The rat looked to Sanchez, and when she nodded, Ratboy cleared his throat. “We found this under the body,” he said, holding up a clear evidence bag.
Doyle took it, his eyes not needing the illumination from the flashlight that Sanchez politely held up. A silver signet ring, caked in mud. Despite the dirt, the intricate craftsmanship stood out. A delicately carved dragon with a ruby eye, the body forming a circle as the beast consumed its own tail.
Tucker stood, leaning in for a closer look. “Isn’t that—”
“It is,” he said, his smile cold and hard. The Dragos crest, straight from the finger of Lucius Fucking Dragos. Finally, after all these years, he had his old friend’s balls in a vise.
Doyle tilted his head to look at his partner. “I need to see if there’s more.”
Tucker shot a glance toward the humans. “You really want to deal with the paperwork?”
Doyle thought of the stack of reprimands and warnings that already peppered his file. But there was no time to clear the scene as per regulations. “Can’t wait for authorization,” he said. “Body’s not getting warmer.”
“Is there a problem?” Constantine asked.
“Not yet,” Doyle said. To Tucker, he added, “You know I have to do it.”
“Aw, hell,” Tucker said, then rolled his shoulders in defeat. “Fine. Go for it. What’s a little official reprimand between friends, right?”
Tucker sighed as he stood up, then looked deep into the eyes of Lieutenant Sanchez, who wandered away, suddenly remembering she had an elsewhere to be.
“Lieutenant? Renata?” Constantine looked between Sanchez and Tucker. “What the hell?”
“She’s fine,” Tucker said, his eyes on hers as he laid on the whammy. Or tried to, anyway.
