Drinker of Blood by Jordan L. Hawk

Author:Jordan L. Hawk [Hawk, Jordan L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

John stepped into District Chief Barillo’s office. Although a part of him would have liked to have brought Caleb, so Barillo could get the report from someone who had actually been there, he hadn’t even dared suggest it.

John still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened between Barillo and Caleb in July. Barillo had dismissed the rest of them and kept Caleb behind, presumably for the sort of ass-chewing he regularly gave John. John had worried about leaving them alone together, simply because Caleb’s “screw the man” attitude would only make Barillo angrier.

But when Caleb rejoined them, he’d said everything had gone fine. Except he’d been paler than usual, and there had been an uncharacteristic look of worry—or was it fear?— in his eyes.

“Sir,” John said, doing his best to project respect. Like it or not, they all had to deal with the district chief. As the old saying went, honey attracted more flies than vinegar.

Barillo’s dark eyes assessed John. Lines of strain had begun to show around them, and there was noticeably more gray in his short, tightly curled hair than before.

The outbreak of NHEs had worn on them all. Before, the district chief usually had gone home at five, though he was always on call. Now, John couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the man leave before eight, if not later.

“Starkweather.” Barillo scowled. “I’ve read your preliminary report. Am I to understand that Special Agent Noorzai and Mr. Jansen let some kid get eaten right in front of them?”

Shit. “No, sir. Let me explain. They were interviewing Mr. Pochron about the first victim, Mr. Scheffler.”

Barillo held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. Why the hell were they interviewing Pochron?”

“Both Scheffler and Wilkinson were connected with the college. I don’t think their deaths were just random. Neither was Pochron’s.” John forced his spine straight. “In light of this latest death, if we could get a warrant for their student records—”

“Absolutely not.” Barillo leaned back in his chair. “Let me spell things out for you, Starkweather. This college? Their alumni go on to be congressmen and CEOs. You go requesting records, and the media’s going to think the college has something to hide. Trust me when I say, any damage to their reputation will not be looked upon kindly by a large number of very wealthy people.”

John ground his teeth in frustration. “With all due respect, sir, how am I to investigate if I can’t follow our best lead? Scheffler and Pochron were best friends, at least according to Pochron, and now they’re both dead. As is the former Dean of Student Affairs. If we’re to keep anyone else from dying—”

“Here’s an idea,” Barillo broke in. “How about your demon-sniffing vampire keeps a hold of the grendel next time. Don’t you think that would be a good way to keep anyone else from dying? As opposed to, say, harassing grieving friends and relatives?”

Oh hell. John sent a swift prayer to Sekhmet before answering. “Mr. Jansen and

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