thought to secure a separate entrance for the ME’s office, a feature Varik was grateful for as he slowly made his way up a loading ramp to a gray metal fire door.
He pushed a button on the security pad next to the door and heard a faint buzzing from inside. He waited a moment and then waved his FBPI credentials in front of the small camera attached to the security pad. A red light on the pad turned green and a series of clicks sounded as the door unlocked. Entering the hallway, he paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lights before limping toward the distant offices and autopsy room.
A young human carrying a clipboard appeared from around a corner and stopped as he caught a glimpse of Varik. “Holy shit!” Jeffery Stringer exclaimed. “You look like reheated hell.”
“Where’s Doctor Hancock?” Varik asked, stopping in front of the deputy medical examiner.
“Autopsy room, finishing up his notes on Trunk Girl.”
Varik pushed past him.
“Do I want to know what the other guy looks like?” Jeffery called after him.
“Not nearly as bad as he will once I get my hands on him again,” Varik shot over his shoulder.
Jeffery emitted a low whistle and quickly picked up his route to wherever he’d been going.
Varik winced as he turned a corner. The pain in his leg was decreasing, but the muscles still protested being used so quickly after his fight with the Dollmaker. He’d been stupid, had let his guard down, and now he was paying the price.
Alex was paying the price.
He replayed his confrontation with the Dollmaker, looking for anything that would give him a hint of who he was and where he might be holding Alex. However, nothing presented itself. The only trace left in the wake of Alex’s abduction was the diamond ring he’d given to her last night—its chain broken.
The physical pain he could manage. He’d certainly been hurt much worse during his time as a Hunter. It was the pain of knowing the Dollmaker had Alex that made his heart ache until he felt it would explode.
Thoughts of what could possibly be happening to her crowded around him. He refused to acknowledge them, to give them weight. If he did, he would break down and become immobile. He had to keep going, had to find her, had to save her.
Ever since the attack, he’d kept the blood-bond open, hoping for some sign of life from her. The bond remained cold and empty. No welcoming warmth greeted him when he extended his thoughts in search of Alex. Not feeling the constant weight of her mind pressing against his filled him with grief and rage. Desperation gnawed at him, filled his thoughts with chaos once more.
What if she was dead?
No, she’s couldn’t be dead. He would know.
But the Dollmaker had her and could be—
Varik forced himself to focus on the door ahead of him and not allow his imagination free rein. He refused to accept she could be taken away so easily.
Doctor Philip Hancock looked up from his notes as Varik entered the autopsy room. A gleaming bald head and thick bottle glasses that enlarged his brown eyes gave the rotund man the appearance of a startled owl. “Enforcer Baudelaire, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after your unfortunate encounter.”
Since taking over from Alex as the official Enforcer for Jefferson, Varik had gotten to know Doc Hancock much better after their initial frosty meeting. Doc was human but accepting of vampires, quick-witted, and a closet Lady Gaga fan, a fact Varik had discovered by accident and had since been sworn to secrecy.
Varik reached the stainless steel autopsy table and leaned against it heavily as a muscle spasm momentarily weakened his right leg. “I’m full of surprises, Doc.”
“Are you sure you should even be working?”
Varik nodded. “I have to find Alex.”
“Still no word from the son of a bitch who grabbed her?”
“No, and there won’t be. We figure he’s a collector and Alex is his prize possession.”
“Hmm, well, that may work in your favor. As long as he continues to think of her that way, he’s less likely to actually hurt her.”
“Doesn’t stop me from thinking of the ways he could though.”
“No, I suppose not.”
Varik sighed and pushed away from the table, eager to find out what Doc Hancock knew. “You got an identification on our salvage yard Jane Doe?”
“Dental records do not match Mindy Johnson. That’s the good news. Bad news is the forensic odontologist in Jackson