The car was an oven. In seconds, sweat started to trickle down my back, between my shoulder blades, and under my breasts. I started the ignition, put the air conditioner on full blast, and set about looking for clues.

The first and most obvious was the file folder sitting on the passenger seat. I knew what that was—my research on Prince Rezza. That it was here in the car instead of in my files at the office said that I’d actually made it as far as going out to the job. More interesting to me by far was the little multi-colored photo envelope peeking out from behind the seat.

I didn’t remember celebrating Vicki’s birthday, but apparently we’d done it. I flipped through the snapshots over and over, trying to remember. We’d obviously had a great time. From the expression on her face, she’d loved the mirror and the card. There were pictures of us laughing and hugging. But I didn’t remember. I tried, but there was nothing. Not a damned thing. I felt a lump in my throat and a pain in my stomach. Memories lost were just that—lost. Sure, there would be more smiles, but I’d missed these and not even the pictures could give them back. They might as well be photos of two strangers.

I slid the photos back into the envelope and reached over to open the glove compartment. Normally I tuck my cell phone in there when I go out on a job. After all, no calls when you’re on duty.

It wasn’t there. I swore under my breath. If it wasn’t in the glove box, it had probably been in my pocket. Which meant it was gone—along with who knew what all else.

Since I put the file in the car, I must have gone to the job, and I would have been wearing my jacket and carrying my new gadget—both of which were valuable and neither of which I had any longer. Dammit!

I thought about what to do as the car engine did its best to blast cooler air through the vents. I reached back into the glove compartment and grabbed a bottle of suntan lotion. SPF 30 would have to do. I could already feel my skin reacting where it was exposed to patches of sunlight. The smell of coconut, aloe, and chemicals filled the car as I slathered thick white liquid on my exposed flesh, hoping what I was about to do wasn’t as stupid as I thought it was.

Pay phones aren’t easy to find in the cellular age. The days when Superman could pop into the nearest phone booth have been gone longer still. About the only place you can find a usable public phone is at the occasional convenience store, and even then it’s just as likely to be out of order.

Fortunately, I was on campus. I knew of at least three convenience stores that catered to students. Surely one of them would have a phone I could use. I left the parking lot with a particular 7-Eleven in mind.

The first store had a phone, but the cord had been severed. I struck pay dirt at the second shop. The phone was even in the shade. Yeah, there was graffiti on it, but the cords were all attached, it wasn’t covered with anything sticky or awful, and when I picked it up I got a dial tone. I dropped a pair of the coins I’d rummaged from the ashtray of my car into the slot and dialed Gran’s number from memory. I let it ring eight times. No answer. Since she didn’t have voice mail or an answering machine, I hung up.

But I have voice mail. Maybe she left a message. I dropped the coins back in the slot and dialed the number of my mailbox. Unfortunately, the recording told me the service was presently unavailable and suggested I call back later.

Well, that was a waste of money, but I’d definitely be checking back frequently. It might be the key to my own past.

After scrounging around between the seats, I found more change. I dropped another pair of coins in the slot, dialing a different number.

The phone rang exactly once before a businesslike female voice answered. “Police, Detective Alexander speaking.”

“Hey, Alex.” I greeted the woman on the other line with breezy familiarity that was only a little bit forced. I like Vicki’s lover. The three of us have had dinner a few times since they met, including, apparently, the birthday party. But I have to admit it’s been a little bit awkward. Maybe Alex and I are just too much alike—both hard cases with a sarcastic bent. Whatever the problem, things between us have always been just a little strained. Still, we both love Vicki to pieces. She’s my best friend and Alex’s lover, so we all pretend everything’s peachy.

“Graves. I just got the weirdest call about you.” Alex’s voice was gruff but not unfriendly. “A friend of mine from downstairs called, said there was a report of you getting bit by bats and being taken for medical treatment, but nobody could find you at any of the hospitals. Then, when they checked out the site of the supposed attack, there was no evidence of anything. The alley was clean. Which is just fucking weird.”

“Well, I was attacked. I was damned near killed—apparently some time after Vicki’s birthday. So there should be evidence if they look hard enough.”

“Are you all right?”

I thought about how to answer that for a few seconds. The cops didn’t like monsters. Would she consider me one? I hoped not. But what was the point in lying? First time she set eyes on me she’d know the truth. “Yes, and no. Ever heard of an abomination?”

“No. What’s that?” Her voice was tired, resigned, like she didn’t really want to know but knew she needed to.

I explained what had happened and as much of what it meant to me as Jones had had time to impart—not much, really.

“If that’s true, then the master that bit you is going to be after you—and you’re liable to wind up with bloodlust.”

“I’m not a monster, Alex. I’m not going to be a monster. I’m just a human in need of a good dentist.” My voice was cold, hard, and uncompromising.

“I hope you’re right.” Alex’s voice was as hard as mine had been, maybe more so. Then again, she’s a cop. “But let’s get this real clear right up front. If you ever show signs of slipping over that edge I’ll take you out. No hesitation. Vicki or no.”

She would. I knew it. In fact, I was counting on it. “If I slip over that edge, I want you to.”

There was a long moment of silence between us, each of us lost in thoughts that were best unshared. I didn’t want to think about bloodlust, the urge to look at my fellow humans as snack food, but I needed to. I needed to think about that and so many other things. But if I did, I was liable to lose it, and that could get me killed. So, I forced the fear and worry down hard, knowing even as I did that I’d pay for it. Denial is a great short-term coping mechanism. Long-term it’s pretty destructive, but hey, I just wanted to get to the long term.

I broke the silence before it got too uncomfortable. “Can you get me the address of the alley? I’m going to have to see if I can get a hunt sanctioned, then see if I can get any evidence and track the bastard down while it’s still daylight.”

“No, Celia. You don’t understand. And I’m not allowed to explain some of it to you. Suffice it to say that the alley your friend sent us to is clean. Someone even hauled away all the trash. The rest of the neighborhood’s a dive, but my friend swears you could eat off the pavement in that alley.”

“What the—” I blinked a few times with shock. “That’s just … bizarre.”

Her tone said she agreed. “Like I said, weird. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to get rid of the evidence of something—presumably your vampire attack. My friend would like to know why.”

“So would I.”

“They’re going to see if any of the shops in the area have video surveillance, but he’s not particularly hopeful, considering the neighborhood. Obviously, he’ll want to take your statement.”

“How soon do I need to be there?”

“Sooner is better than later. Go to the front desk and ask for Gibson. I’ll tell him to expect you.”

I sighed. I didn’t want to do this. But if I played nice with the cops, they were more likely to issue the warrant sanctioning my hunt and I might be able to keep my concealed-carry permit. If I didn’t agree to the questioning … well, paperwork can be lost, delayed, misfiled, all kinds of things. They wouldn’t do it to get me killed. In fact, they’d probably be hunting for the bastard who did this to me just as hard as I was. But they’d keep me out of it. I didn’t want out of it.

She laughed, but not like it was funny. “You sound so martyred. It won’t take that long. Besides, if you cooperate he may be willing to pass along what little information they’ve been able to gather. The master vampire that tried to turn you is going to try to either kill you or finish bringing you over. And someone went to a lot of trouble and expense covering this up. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

“Yeah. Wish I knew what I needed help with.” I said it for Alex’s benefit, but it was the truth. Vamps frequently run in packs, but they’re not organized. They don’t generally clean up their messes, either. Something big was going down and, lucky me, I’d stepped right in the middle of it.

“Look, you’re only about ten minutes away. Come straight over. I’ll meet you in the lobby and bring you up. Otherwise people are liable to freak when they see you.”

She wasn’t wrong. Just on the short trip to the car from the lab I’d noticed a couple of people doing a double take and hurrying away from me. Daylight or no, something about me scared them, even with me carrying Emma’s pretty floral umbrella.

Alex seemed to sense something in my silence. “Just get here. One step at a time.”

“Right. See you in a few.”

She hung up without saying good-bye, but then, she usually did. I set the handset back in its cradle and steeled myself to go inside. I wanted a replacement cell phone sooner than later. You can get a basic phone cheap and easy at pretty much any convenience store—such as the one I was standing in front of—and it only takes a couple of minutes to activate it and load up some minutes. Maybe I’d find my regular phone. If not, I could get it replaced for a small fee by the company that held my plan. But in the meantime, I needed something.