Sweeter than Blood

Chapter Three

Jameson Lourd was unmistakable, his lean, coiffed build towering over the assistant's smaller form.

The leader of the local coven was instantly recognizable, if not for his intimidating presence alone, by his jet black, carefully styled, shoulder-length hair and propensity toward white pinstripe shirts that hugged his biceps and allowed at least two buttons to be loose at the neck. He was simultaneously a terrifying and intriguing man who carefully maintained the order of the vampires and their relations, if any, with humans. Even among his own kind, vampires had been known to bow when he entered a room and speak to him as though speaking to a king.

In the video, however, it was surprising to see this daunting man envelope Meredith in a hug that she willingly collapsed into. If it had gone on a moment longer, perhaps more would have been revealed about their relationship, but even as the screen went black, we watched as Jameson bent down to the body and kissed Finlay's forehead.

Why would Jameson Lourd, leader of vampires and strained colleague of the deceased, be so gentle toward Meredith? To Finlay? What kind of relationship did the professor and his assistant actually have with the coven? And why had Jameson not been around when the police arrived at the scene?

I turned to Garnet, but instead of confusion in her expression, she looked outright murderous.

"I expect Jameson Lourd's involvement in this case was unknown to you as well?" I nearly raised a sarcastic brow, but the daggers in her eyes caused me to think twice. She grabbed the crime scene photos and scattered them across the desk, picking up one in particular and pinching it between her fingers so tightly I expected it to disintegrate. I could barely make out that it was one taken closely of the victim's face, drained of life but covered in dirt and blood. Garnet's fingers traced over the side of his neck, then moved back to the edge of the picture.

"Lydia," she started carefully after several tense seconds, "were there any signs of a vampire's bite?" It didn't take but a moment for me to understand she was asking about the autopsy report.

"None that were recently given," I said, measuring my words and watching her closely. She set the photo back among the others and breathed deeply before speaking again.

"So, they found previous bites that had been allowed to heal." It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Finn, you idiot," she murmured.

I waited a few moments before I felt it was safe to continue. "Were you aware that he had been bitten by anyone before?" She shook her head and placed one perfectly manicured hand on her hip.

"No, he had been warned not to get involved with anyone while he was a guest with us," she explained. "I guess he didn't listen."

"Any idea who he might have been involved with? Who might have bitten him?"

"Of course," she laughed bitterly. "They were always together, whispering over worn leather books or walking the mansion's grounds. I can't believe I didn't see it before, but it's painfully obvious now, isn't it?"

"Garnet, I need you to say it out loud. Give me a name," I pressed, unprepared for the steel in her eyes when she finally looked at me. I winced involuntarily, but asked again. "Who was Finlay involved with?"

She stared at me, furious, and spat his name like a curse.

"Jameson. Finlay Lancaster was involved with Jameson Lourd." She laughed again, but there was no humor in the sound. "Now I get why Jamie was so eager to have me step in on this investigation. The victim wasn't just some scholar he befriended, it was his lover." Garnet refused to calm, and instead rose from the chair and began to pace the length of the desk. "He has never shown that kind of attention to anyone, dead or alive, human or vampire, but when Finn started coming to the mansion for days at a time, Jameson was nearly always with him. I assumed he wanted just as much to help with the research if it would help ease tensions with your kind, but..."

I stood by silently and let her vent her frustrations, smart enough not to stop a pissed off vampire from divulging potentially important information about our newly promoted prime suspect.

"I should have seen this coming," she seethed. "I told him, I told him not to get involved."

"How can you be sure they were involved," I asked. "All the video shows is Jameson comforting Lancaster's assistant, then saying goodbye to someone he knew." Or giving a final farewell to someone he killed.

Garnet just stared at me, dumbfounded, then sat back in the chair and rewound the video a few seconds before the end. As Jameson leaned toward Finlay, she paused the image and pointed at the screen.

"Does that look like he's just saying goodbye to someone he knew?" Her voice was incredulous, but when I moved closer to the stilled image, what she had seen was clear.

Hanging on the edge of Jameson's perfectly chiseled jawline was a glistening, jewellike tear.

"How on earth did you spot that on the first go-around?" Even squinting at the computer it could have been argued that gleam on his face was a reflection from something out of view, but that would still be a difficult argument to make.

Jameson had been crying over the man dead at his feet.

Garnet scoffed at my question and pointed at herself. "Vampire, remember? Along with frighteningly good looks and razor sharp teeth, our senses are heightened beyond your tiny human comprehension." Her eyes rolled so hard it must have hurt. "Are you kidding me? I pay attention to details. It comes in handy sometimes, detective."

I resisted the urge to banish her from the police station out of spite, but she was right; she caught something important that I didn't see, and now we had a great line of questioning backed up with video evidence to take to the man himself.