Bite My Fire by Mary Hughes

Author:Mary Hughes [Hughes, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Series - Vampire
ISBN: 9781605046808
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2009-10-26T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

An hour later I trudged along the night-shadowed sidewalk, hands in my jeans pockets. What the hell did I do now? I still felt like I’d been sideswiped by a truck.

My cell phone rang. Caller ID showed the cop shop.

Who now, I thought, fearing Dirkenstein, or worse, Tight-ass. “O’Rourke.”

“Hi, Elena. It’s Charlie.”

Our CSI, Charles Samuel Ignatek. Yeah, I know. And physically, he could have been William Petersen’s twin. Meiers Corners was ground zero for weird. We had a lawyer named Denny Crane and a Taekwondo instructor called Miyagi. Charlie’s initials and his Gil Grissom face was sitch normal for us.

“Interesting sample you sent me, Elena. Where did you say you found it?”

The small baggy of charred dust was from the alley where Bo and I had been attacked. “I didn’t say. But it was on the paperwork with the sample.”

“There was nothing with the sample. No ID, no forms, nothing.”

Not good. Even one slip could lose me the detective race. “I swear I didn’t forget—”

Ignatek chuckled. He had a nice, masculine chuckle. “I know you didn’t. You’re precise and careful with evidence. Which makes the absence of the paperwork quite intriguing, yes?”

I wondered what he was driving at. Hopefully nothing freaky. I’d had enough freakiness in the past few to file a Schedule C as my own circus sideshow. “But you got the sample. You were able to analyze it?”

“Oh, yes.”

Analyzable, therefore not supernatural. My tension eased. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, he asked, “Does it have anything to do with your current case?”

“Nothing that I know of.” Anxiety notched back up. I didn’t get what was with all the questions. Was Ignatek pumping me for Titus?

“Can you at least tell me where it came from? How long ago you got it?”

“In town. Not long ago,” I hedged. “Why?”

“Because I recovered amplifiable DNA, Elena.”

I remembered the muggers’ unnatural strength. The red eyes. The flashing teeth. “What kind of DNA? Animal?” Animal—or monster?

“Human DNA.”

“Human? You’re absolutely sure?” The instant it was out of my mouth I could have smacked myself. Of course he was sure.

But there was a strange hesitation before Charlie answered. “Well, that’s why I asked where it came from. I sent the sample through CODIS. And got a match.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Usually. In this case, Elena, I’m not sure.”

“Why? Does the DNA match the spit from Schrimpf’s balls? Is it our murderer?”

“No, unfortunately. It’s for one John Smith, age thirty-six.”

“Smith?” I swore. “How many thousands of people does that name match in the US alone?”

“With the DNA? Exactly one.”

I stopped walking. “But…well, then, what’s the problem?”

“It’s only a very small one, Elena. John Smith had AIDS. He died a year ago.”

“Died?” To say that was a problem was an understatement. A long-dead man had attacked me yesterday. Impossible.

But a lot of impossible had been slopping over the reality dam lately. After thanking Ignatek (and promising I’d forward any information as soon as I had it) I flipped the phone shut. Stuck my hands in my pockets and thought hard.

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