wrong?”
“Elisa Sullivan,” Robinson said, stepping forward. “You need to come with us.”
“Why?”
“For questioning in the death of the vampire known as Blake.”
I looked at her, battling confusion at the name, and relief that it wasn’t someone I was close to. “From the Compliance Bureau?”
Yuen and Robinson exchanged a silent glance, then Robinson looked at me. “So you knew him.”
She must have known this; Theo would have told her. “He was one of the vampires who came to my door, who gave me the summons.” Fear was replaced by a sinking dread. “One of the AAM members is dead. And you think I did it.”
I certainly hadn’t killed him, and didn’t even know how he’d died. Did the AAM have enemies in Chicago? Or was it still trying to make them?
“Lis?”
I looked back, found Lulu in a robe, hair damp from the shower, arms wrapped around her torso. “What’s wrong?”
“Call Connor,” I told her and grabbed my jacket. “Tell him I’m with the Ombuds, that a member of the AAM is dead.”
It was all I had time to say before they hustled me down the hallway.
* * *
* * *
They put me in the back of a vehicle, drove me to the former brick factory that now housed the OMB office. No one spoke. Theo gave me a nod, but otherwise made no contact.
I wasn’t angry, not yet. But the dread was heavy. I knew Theo and Yuen, trusted them both. I didn’t know Robinson, and I didn’t trust the AAM. I had trouble believing the AAM would sacrifice one of their own to frame me, but I didn’t know of any other motive. If the AAM was behind this, they’d morphed from accusing me of breaking their rules to flat-out murder. What wouldn’t they do to punish me?
We drove through the gate to the complex of brick buildings, fronted by a small parking lot for any humans or Sups who might find their way to the offices. The vehicle stopped in front. Detective Robinson helped me out of the car and kept a firm grip on my arm as she escorted me through the lobby, the receptionist wide-eyed, and into a narrow hallway to an interview room.
I’d been in the interview rooms before, had sat at the aluminum table with Theo to question Sups who’d been accused of causing trouble, or had accused someone else.
Other than the table, the two-way glass that led to the observation room, and the caged overhead lights, the room was empty. It was grim and functional, and not designed to put the interviewee at ease. It was effective that way.
I took the chair that perpetrators had occupied during my prior visits, tried to roll the tightness out of my shoulder; Gwen and Theo came in, took the chairs opposite me. Roger Yuen was apparently going to sit out the discussion. Maybe, I thought ruefully, because he was my employer.
Gwen was in the seat I usually filled, and that was another pinch around my heart. She’d brought in a file folder, dropped it onto the table.
Might as well get this started, I thought. “I don’t need an attorney. And I’ll answer any questions you like.” And I was aware of the privilege that let me do that without further worry. “But I didn’t kill Blake. I’ve only seen him twice—at my door two nights ago, and last night at the Grove. I don’t know who killed him.”
“Tell us about the night they came to your door,” Gwen said.
“We’d had a party, and most everyone had left. Him, Levi, and . . .” I closed my eyes, trying to remember the name of the woman. “Sloan,” I remembered. “Blake was an ass. Sloan tried to smooth it over. Or that was the role she played.”
“Good cop,” Gwen said.
I nodded.
“And after that?”
“At the Grove,” I said again. I had a feeling I’d be saying lots of things twice. But I was still numb to my anger. For now there was only misery and disgust. “How was he killed?”
“Decapitated,” Gwen said. And with a considering look at me, flipped open the folder and spread the photographs it contained on the table.
I drew one toward me with a fingertip, and studied death.
His body lay sprawled on a floor of gold-flecked stone, his arms and legs spread. As promised, his head had been removed and lay a few feet away, eyes open wide, as if shocked by the situation in which he’d found himself. Blood was everywhere, in great dark pools,