Page 36 of Taste of Blood
I guess honesty–at least partial, anyway–is the best way to approach this. “I helped him out a few years ago. He was attacked by a rogue and I happened to be in the neighborhood. I told him if he ever needed help again, to give me a call.”
He considers that for a moment. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you take an interest in a human?”
I’ve been asking myself the same question the last two days. Why did I tell Luca and his mother about the rogues? And why did I give him my number and promise to help him? I’m not aboy scout, and I’m certainly no hero. The only person I’ve ever looked out for other than myself is Asher.
Still, something about Luca stayed with me. “I guess he kind of reminded me of myself at that age.”
Dante knows about my troubled past. Hell, he was my mentor. And I’m sure he’s probably wondering right now why this kid and this time?
However, he seems satisfied with my response because he doesn’t pursue it any farther. “So what’s the deal with these guys?”
I run my hand back through my hair and sigh. “They don’t seem to know anything about the Clan. And they mentioned a boss, someone I should be scared of.”
Dante quirks a brow. “A boss, eh? They give you a name?”
“No, which is one of the things I want to get out of them.”
He stands up and walks over to the window overlooking the rest of the warehouse. “I can tell you’re bothered by something. What is your gut saying?”
I hate even mentioning the word. “I think they’re unsanctioned.”
He turns to me. “Outliers?” I nod. “Shit.”
“Like I said, I won’t know for sure until I talk to them, but just the time I spent with them in the alley gave me a bad vibe.”
He’s quiet for a few minutes, as though absorbing this latest bombshell. “I thought the serial killer was the worst of our problems.” He takes another puff of his cigar. “How did they get there?”
The question throws me for a second. “What do you mean?”
“Did they drive, walk, or were they dropped off?”
“Oh. They drove an old van.”
“Is it still there?”
“As far as I know.”
He nods. “I’ll send someone over to pick it up. Might be a clue inside.”
I hadn’t thought about that. We might at least learn something from the registration, unless it’s stolen.
“In the meantime,” Dante continues, “let them marinate for a while, then question them. Only you. Use whatever means necessary to get the truth. And Cord?”
I start to rise and look at him. “Yeah?”
“Don’t say a word to anyone else about this for now. At least, not till we’re certain.”
“I understand.”
The last thing we need is to cause a panic and bring the attention of the Black Guild down on us.
♦ ♦ ♦
I spend the next few hours hanging out at the warehouse, drinking and shooting the shit with some of the guys. When the van arrives, we tear it apart looking for clues, but all we find is some old clothes and a couple of lengths of bloody rope. One of Dante’s contacts at the NYPD runs the plate and comes back with a name and address in Queens which I intend to check out later.
