She turned to Sergeant Flynn McWilliams. “And what have you got to say for yourself? You’ve been very quiet.”
He surveyed her for a moment, then removed his cap and held it in both hands at his front. His hair was gingery and shiny, thick, too, as if fingers would get lost in it should they grip it by the roots. “I’m honored to be working with you, ma’am. Your resume is very impressive.”
“My resume?” Of all the cheek. What right did he have to do a search on her?
“I agree with Henry,” Flynn went on.
Oh, so he was on first-name terms with the superintendent, how very cozy.
“That we need to catch this monster as soon as possible.” Flynn faced the window and indicated the blinds. “He’ll kill again, soon. There is no time to waste.”
“And how do you intend to catch him?” she asked. “Your special skill set presumably.”
“We’ll sniff him out,” Flynn said.
“Sniff him out.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve had enough of this. Really, I have.” She was getting out of there. She needed a warm bath, a cold chardonnay, and some classical music, preferably Vivaldi. Now.
But no sooner had she taken a step toward the door than Cooper was in front of her.
She gasped, turned to the spot he’d been standing, and tried to work out how he’d moved so quickly.
She couldn’t.
“What…how did you?”
“We move fast when we want to.” Cooper reached for the door handle. “Very fast.”
“But, that was…”
“We’ll go for a coffee, just me and you, talk this through.”
“I’m at work, Sergeant, I can’t just go with you for a coffee and a chat.” Besides, she had other plans that involved bubbles and alcohol. She deserved that after this barrel load of crazy.
“Good idea,” Henry said. “Answer her questions, Cooper. Give reassurance.”
Corey bristled. She was a goddamn DI, for goodness sake, and a sergeant was being ordered to nanny her.
“I will,” Cooper said, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Come on, I know a nice little place not far from here.”
Corey pressed her lips together and held in a flow of angry words. This day was going from bad to downright bonkers.
Ten minutes later, she was seated at the back of a dimly lit café built into the arches of a bridge. Cooper sat opposite with a tiny black espresso in front of him. He’d drawn glances as they’d walked there, being as he was in police uniform and utterly gorgeous with his lustrous dark hair, modelesque looks, and confident demeanor.
“You said you’d taken a solemn oath to Her Majesty. Does that mean she knows about you?” Corey asked then sipped her cappuccino.
“It is only right the reigning monarch should know who and what exists in their land.”
“As in monsters?”
He winced. “Vampires are other beings, not monsters. Shifters in the majority are also other beings, not that I’m fond of them on any level. The creature we’re dealing with is a mutant, so yes, he’s a monster.”
“The shredding shifter.”
He kind of smiled. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
“There clearly is.” She pursed her lips.
He leaned forward, hands either side of his cup and saucer. “Corey—may I call you that?”
“It seems you already are despite being of lower rank and younger than me.”
He inclined his head. “Corey, you should know that I, we, have been around a long time. Age is nothing to us, a meaningless number. We have seen many kings and queens come and go, they have all accepted us and our desire to live peacefully amongst humans. In fact, many of us do, here in London and around the world. We mean no harm. And the special unit—Elijah, Ben, Flynn, and myself—is considered especially upstanding. We are commonly known as The Ancient Ones.”
“And why is that?”
“We have all been around since Master Benedict walked this land.”
“The leader of the vampire world, right?”
“Correct. You’re a fast learner.”
She frowned and sipped her drink again. When she licked the froth from her top lip, his attention dipped to watch.
Her traitorous heart did a little flip-flop, as if it had missed a beat then added another in. Cooper was beautiful, way out of her league if she were honest. Hell, he’d be out of a supermodel’s league, yet here he was, looking at her for the second time as though she interested him…in that way.
She set her cup down, trying to hide the small shake in her hand.
“Please don’t be scared,” he said, hovering his palm over her knuckles as if about to reassure her with touch.
“I’m not.” She snatched her hands away, placed them under the table on her lap. “Where is he now? This Master Benedict.”
“Sadly, we lost him.” Cooper sat back, folded his arms, and released a long, low breath. “Many years ago, hundreds, but that has never diminished his wise teachings about living in harmony with humans.”
“Sounds like a vampire Buddha.”
He chuckled, his face softening. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“So tell me.” She glanced at the other customers. No one was taking much interest in them now. “How did you become a vampire? Was it a job offer in some old newspaper? An opportunity you couldn’t resist?”
“Hardly.” He unfolded his arms, spun his espresso around but didn’t drink. “It was a case of die or have a different type of existence.”
She waited for him to go on.
“I was living in Lindisfarne.”
“Wait, I’ve heard of that.”
“Yes, it’s a monastery off the east coast of England.”
“You’re, you’re a monk?”
“Yes, back then, in seven hundred and ninety-three.”
Her jaw fell open. She closed it.
“Robe held tight with a length of rope. A tonsure, which means no hair here.” He drew a circle over his head like a halo. “Very simple life, no frills, no sex, only humility and God and enough food to survive.”
“What happened?” The rest of the world was fading away, there was only Cooper and his incredible story.
Because that’s what it was, a story, what he was saying couldn’t be real.
Could it?
“What happened were Vikings,” he said. “We were attacked, our peaceful and remote tidal island, and the center of Christianity in our country was subjected to dragon boats and pagans, barbarians who poured out the blood of saints around the altar, and trampled on innocent bodies in the temple of God.” He shook his head as though the memories from all those centuries ago were still vivid. “Never before had we been subjected to, or even knew such terror and evil existed. I had been praying beside my bed when one of the marauders burst in. Hulking great Norseman with a horned helmet and huge sword. He took one look at me, hunched on the floor, and drove his blade through my abdomen, held it there for a second, withdrew, and left. I was done for, I knew that, and I prayed to God to save me.”
“Jesus, that’s horrible.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth. “Sorry, you probably don’t like blasphemy, being you were a monk and all that.”