Circus of the Damned Read Free Page A

crumbled it in their fist.
    â€œGeez, Zerbrowski.”
    â€œHey, it’s still paper.” He tried smoothing the notebook flat, but finally gave up. He posed, pen over the wrinkled paper. “Enlighten me, oh preternatural expert.”
    â€œAm I going to have to repeat this to Dolph? I’d like to just do this once and go home to bed.”
    â€œHey, me too. Why do you think I’m wearing my jammies?”
    â€œI just thought it was a daring fashion statement.”
    He looked at me. “Mm-huh.”
    Dolph walked out of the house. The door looked too small to hold him. He’s six-eight and built bulky like a wrestler. His black hair was buzzed close to his head, leaving his ears stranded on either side of his face. But Dolph didn’t care much for fashion. His tie was tight against the collar of his white dress shirt. He had to have been pulled out of bed just like Zerbrowski, but he looked neat and tidy and businesslike. It never mattered what hour you called Dolph, he was always ready to do his job. A professional cop down to his socks.
    So why was Dolph heading up the most unpopular special task force in St. Louis? Punishment for something, that much I was sure of, but I’d never asked what. I probably never would. It was his business. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.
    The squad had originally been a pacifier for the liberals. See, we’re doing something about supernatural crime. But Dolph had taken his job and his men seriously. They had solved more supernatural crime in the last two years than any other group of policemen in the country. He had been invited to give talks to other police forces. They had even been loaned out to neighboring states twice.
    â€œWell, Anita, let’s have it.”
    That’s Dolph; no preliminaries. “Gee, Dolph, it’s nice to see you too.”
    He just looked at me.
    â€œOkay, okay.” I knelt on the far side of the body so I could point as I talked. Nothing like a visual aid to get your point across. “Just measuring shows that at least three different vampires fed on the man.”
    â€œBut?” Dolph said.
    He’s quick. “But I think that every wound is a different vampire.”
    â€œVampires don’t hunt in packs.”
    â€œUsually they are solitary hunters, but not always.”
    â€œWhat causes them to hunt in packs?” he asked.
    â€œOnly two reasons that I’ve ever come across: first, one is the new dead and an older vampire is teaching the ropes, but that’s just two pairs of fangs, not five; second, a master vampire is controlling them, and he’s gone rogue.”
    â€œExplain.”
    â€œA master vampire has nearly absolute control over his or her flock. Some masters use a group kill to solidify the pack, but they wouldn’t dump the body here. They’d hide it where the police would never find it.”
    â€œBut the body’s here,” Zerbrowski said, “out in plain sight.”
    â€œExactly; only a master that’s gone crazy would dump a body like this. Most masters even before vampires were legally alive wouldn’t flaunt a kill like this. It attracts attention, usually attention with a stake in one hand and a cross in the other. Even now, if we could trace the kill to the vampires that did it, we could get a warrant and kill them.” I shook my head. “Slaughter like this is bad for business, and whatever else vampires are, they’re practical. You don’t stay alive and hidden for centuries unless you’re discreet and ruthless.”
    â€œWhy ruthless?” Dolph said.
    I stared up at him. “It’s utterly practical. Someone discovers your secret, you kill them, or make them one of your . . . children. Good business practices, Dolph, nothing more.”
    â€œLike the mob,” Zerbrowski said.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWhat if they panicked?” Zerbrowski asked. “It was almost