Raw Deal (Bite Back) Read Online Free Page A

word—credible. I’d seen an unusual pattern of neck wounds and a suspicious lack of blood at the scene, but so far that was inconclusive. I needed solid proof before making any reports; the only thing worse than being the only known person who could identify vampires would be turning into a person who saw vampires when they weren’t there.
    I’d already managed to piss off my partner, and made an ass of myself in front of the other uniforms here. On top of that, I’d probably persuaded the CSI team I was a morbid lunatic. Buchanan had clearly written me off already. If I brought the army in now and it turned out I was wrong, the whole house of cards would come down.
    Strictly speaking, I should have been back at the base right now, under close observation. I’m sure that’s what the scientists had recommended. Their version of close observation included restraints and a soundproof cell with no windows.
    I’d spent time in that cell. My vocal cords ached with memories; my wrists itched with phantom burns.
    I still couldn’t quite believe that I’d been let out, even though it had been a year now. Not just let out—I’d been set up with a job. Two, in fact, since I’d blown the first job. Working in the police was my second chance, and common sense said it was also my last chance.
    None of it’s my goddamn fault!
    I stomped on that. I couldn’t waste time bitching. This was my reality. Just to keeping standing still, I had to succeed at my police job and I had to meet my obligations to the army. The problem was when they overlapped like this, I could screw up both of them with one false move. And the minute I was no more use to the army out here, I would end up back in that cell. Sweat chilled my forehead. Anything but that.
    Knight was herding me back to our patrol car. I wanted to check out the alley and the dumpster again, sniff around for a hint of vampires, but there were still techs crawling around, making notes and bagging garbage. As far as Knight was concerned, I was just rubbernecking, and I’d caused enough problems with him for one day. I drove us back to the station and we clocked out.
    I thought about trying to get into the morgue and have a look at that body, but figured I’d already rocked the boat enough for the moment. I could check the reports once the coroner had determined cause of death. Then, if further investigation was warranted, I could make a decision about what to do.
    There were more mundane problems as well. I needed to leave some extra time in case I had trouble with my car, and I really needed to get some rest before my meeting with the colonel. These meetings weren’t ever easy, and this time I had to hide today’s suspicious murder from him until I confirmed it one way or the other.
    I had plenty of time to regret those decisions over the next few days.
     

Chapter 3
     
    I’d set my alarm for an hour’s sleep, and it jerked me awake, sending another nightmare slithering back into the pit of my subconscious.
    I didn’t linger over it. I took a shower, tied my hair back and got dressed. Breakfast was coffee and some fruit to go. I glanced around out of habit to see if there was anything I’d forgotten. Laundry was bagged and ready for a spare moment. My spare police uniform was hanging, ready for my next shift. My handguns were in the safe underneath the bed.
    The little apartment was bright and somehow sad. Maybe I needed to get some pictures on the walls. The only things I had out were on my bedside table. Some photos and, of course, Tara’s plaque: my twin sister’s memorial. It was plain, a glossy stone rectangle the size of a desk photograph, jet black, with cursive gold lettering at the bottom, saying simply Tara Farrell . I brushed it with my fingers.
    I was delaying. The run-up to every appointment with the colonel was like this: a sick dread that built and built. If I failed any of his tests, answered a question wrong—if he even thought I’d begun to