Hard Bitten - Chloe Neill [58]
They were ridiculously good.
The chocolate sponge cake was just the right balance of tangy chocolate and not-too-sweet cake, which matched up perfectly against a cream filling that reeked of sugar. There were a few hundred calories in a single dose, and each box boasted half a dozen cellophane-wrapped cakes. They were a self-pity sesh just waiting to happen.
On the other hand, I was a vampire. They couldn’t hurt me. Whatever criticisms you might level against Ethan for making me a vampire, I had a crazy-fast metabolism and no obvious means of weight gain.
A smarter vampire might have tried blood, satiated the need with a bag or two of type O or AB. But Mallocakes were so very human. And sometimes a girl needed to stay in touch with her humanity. Sometimes a girl needed breakfast that didn’t involve flax or wheatgrass or organic free-range cruelty-free whole grains. Besides, we were the only beings alive who could eat processed sugar and carbs with impunity—why not go for it, right?
Mallocakes, it was.
Really, it was a celebration prompted by the fact that the day’s paper didn’t reveal word one about last night’s rave. Things may not have gone smoothly in the House when I’d returned, but a quiet press was still a victory we needed.
And so, one small victory and two thousand calories later, I stuffed empty cellophane wrappers into the trash and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I’d had my snack, so it was time to get back to work.
Jeff answered before the first ring was complete. “Merit!”
“Talk to me, Jeff. Any news on that phone number?”
“Not a damn thing. It was assigned to a disposable phone, and the account has no other outgoing messages or calls. Just the one text. And I didn’t find any record of purchase in my merchant-data file for the minutes or the phone itself, so it was probably cash on both those transactions.”
“Hmm. That’s a bummer. And for the record, I’m very disturbed you’ve got merchant-data records.”
“It’s only mildly illegal. Hey, you want me to make you disappear from the financial system? I can do that. Even the Fed couldn’t find you. They are such noobs over there.”
There was too much enthusiasm in his voice for my comfort. I was the granddaughter of a cop, after all. On the other hand, Jeff worked for that cop.
“No, thanks. And if you’re committing felonies, let’s make sure it’s for the good of the city.”
“You’re no fun,” Jeff complained.
“Aw, that’s not true. I’m plenty fun.”
“Vamps are really only like ten percent fun at any given time. The other ninety percent is largely fretting. And bloodletting.”
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Mr. Bell. Hey, while I’ve got you on the phone, can I talk to him? I’ve got a question.”
“Absotively,” he said, and then I heard his request. “Catch, the grandkid’s on the phone.”
I heard shuffling, which I imagined was the sound of Jeff carrying his phone to Catcher. That gave me time to adjust to the fact that I’d been deemed “the grandkid.” So much for my vampire suaveness.
“Yo gabba gabba,” Catcher said. “What’s up?”
“Drugs.”
“We’re in the third-biggest city in the country. You’re going to need to be more specific.”
I picked up the envelope and looked it over. “White tablets. Dose is maybe two at a time, and they’re delivered in a little white envelope. There’s a V on the pill and also on the outside of the package.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’ll have to check the database, but it doesn’t sound familiar. Why do you ask?”
I gave him the rundown, substituting Noah’s name for Jonah’s again, and hating that the lies were beginning to layer on top of one another. Pretty soon I was going to need an app just to keep everything straight.
“Is there a chance humans were being doped with it?” I wondered aloud. “To make them more susceptible to glamour?”
“So they’d be more willing to give blood at a party? That doesn’t ring for me.” I imagined him leaning back in his chair, hands behind his