Fire Within - By Ally Shields Page 0,29
She had a reason why Eddie would have lied. Now, all she needed was the right suspect.
* * *
That afternoon, Ari spent two hours waiting on customers at Basil & Sage, while Claris bought plants and supplies from a local nursery. Afterward they shared Claris’s homemade chicken soup, and Ari recounted her visit to Rosalina.
Claris didn’t have much to say. “What do you think this all means?” she asked, not looking at Ari.
“I’m not sure. She said the Goddess doesn’t make the decision, I do. But if the dreams are supposed to reveal my true feelings…” Ari grimaced, not liking where that train of thought led. “How could that be? A vampire for a soul mate?”
Claris reached out and clutched Ari’s hand. “She didn’t say that, did she? As she pointed out, you have a duty to produce children. Even I know that vampires are sterile. So maybe none of this is set in stone.”
“I have to believe that,” Ari said, so quietly her friend leaned forward to hear. “But the dreams are so real, so insistent. Sometimes I feel drawn to him.”
“Maybe it’s a vampiric trick? Something Andreas is doing?”
Ari lifted her head and met Claris’s worried gaze. “That would be preferable. Maybe I could do something about it.” Hearing the whine in her voice, Ari straightened, a wry quirk on her lips. “Listen to me. Can’t believe I’m talking like this. No matter what else happens, nobody gets to decide my fate, except me.”
Claris heaved a sigh as Ari came out of her funk. “That’s one of the things I admire about you. The way you take matters in your own hands.”
Ari laughed, genuinely amused. “Yeah, and we’ve seen how well that works sometimes. At least, I try.”
Not long after that conversation, Ari headed out for her nightly rounds of the city. There were certain hot spots, like the park and the bars, that she always checked before going home. Along the way, maybe she’d plot a strategy for dealing with Andreas, or maybe she’d just enjoy the walk and not think at all. With luck she’d get home in time for a lazy, mindless evening in front of the TV. A few hours without worrying about vampires, or dreams, or murder.
She had completed a sweep of the bar district and was on her way to the park, when her pager beeped. The text was garbled, so Ari called in.
“Otherworld fatality, Goshen Park, north shelter,” Dispatch reported. “Meet Lt. Foster at the scene.”
Chapter Six
By cutting through the alleys, Ari arrived at the crime scene in under six minutes, but the press vans were already parked on the grass. News traveled fast and reporters even faster. Nothing was more than minutes away in Olde Town, especially Goshen Park, which provided a natural border between the older sections of Riverdale and the modern city with its suburbs.
Except for the flashing lights from emergency vehicles, the scene was still mostly dark. The park was closed to the human public at this time of night; park lights were on automatic shut-off, and there were no street lamps nearby. Highlighted by the recurring flashes, officers strung crime scene tape, and techs worked by battery-powered lanterns to set up the floodlights. She headed for the shelter house, the center of all this activity.
The floodlights came on, illumining the scene in a garish glow. Officers quickly finished with the yellow tape and switched their efforts to blocking the press and the growing number of spectators. Ryan was near the shelter; his blond head bent over a shadowed object on the ground. The victim, she assumed. A pudgy young man in his twenties sat on top of a picnic table inside the shelter, his head bowed into his hands, and a cop stood nearby. Another victim or suspect? Ari did a mental head slap. Everyone was a suspect at this point.
She made her way to the table first. “What do we have here?”
“Vampire death.” The cop recognized her and nodded to his charge. “Victim’s boyfriend. He found the body.”
“His name?”
The cop shrugged. “We haven’t been formally introduced,” he said with that dry humor only cops can pull off at a murder scene.
“Excuse me,” she said to the boyfriend. “You’re acquainted with the victim?”
He bobbed his head but didn’t look up. She noticed the blood on his shirt and hands.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Can you tell me your name?”
“Carl. Carlton Austin.” His voice was muffled, but he finally raised his head. The normal lines of his