“Why do you allow it to continue, especially given incest is against the law?”
“It didn’t interfere with her duties, so it was of no concern.” He raised an eyebrow, a somewhat cool smile touching his lips. “Maelle is from a time when such behavior was not uncommon, and therefore does not have modern sensibilities when it comes to such matters.”
Meaning she was even older than I’d imagined. I ducked back under the police tape, and then closed the door. The sound echoed across the silence of the small hall. “I can’t imagine there’d be anything much darker than incest in the current crop’s background.”
“One has a gambling problem, but beyond that, you’re right—there is nothing concerning.”
“The one with the gambling problem—is he or she still employed?”
“Yes.”
Which left him or her off the suspect list. We came out into the street again. The sky ran with color—reds and oranges mingling with dusky pinks and purples. The sun might be going down, but she wasn’t about to do so without putting on a glorious show.
“How many feeders does she keep?”
“It varies.” He led the way around the corner. “She did have six, but she recently had to let one go.”
“Why?”
“Favoritism and bad behavior. Or rather, too much of the latter, and a lack of the former that consequently led to a rise of jealousy.”
“Seriously? They’re bitching about who gets fed on the most?”
I couldn’t help the surprise in my voice, and his smile flashed. “Indeed they do. And it’s not just the women, I can assure you.”
“So she has feeders of both sexes?”
He nodded. “While my mistress’s tastes do run to women, males have greater amounts of platelets and leukocytes in their blood. It is beneficial for her to feed on them at least once a week.”
We reached the small parking lot, which was two buildings down from Marlinda’s. Not very convenient for carrying groceries back, I would have thought. “How often does she actually need to feed?”
“As one of the older ones, she does not need to feed more than once a month. But she does so four times a week.” He glanced back at me, an amused
smile touching his lips, but an odd gleam in his eyes. “Is it not always better to sip than to feast?”
“I’ve never been one to ignore a good feast,” I replied evenly. “But in this case, I’m sure her feeders appreciate her restraint.”
Not to mention the fact that there was less likelihood of her presence being noted if she avoided gluttony.
“Indeed they do,” he agreed. “In fact, both she and her feeders enjoy the experience.”
A shudder ran through me. Having been recently bitten, I could honestly say there’d been nothing even remotely pleasurable about it. “I don’t suppose the feeder you let go was one of the ones involved in the recent fracas at the club?”
“Yes.” He stopped beside a Ford wagon a good ten years younger than mine. “This is Marlinda’s car.”
I clicked on the remote and opened the passenger side door. “So is it possible that she got so pissed off about being fired that she’s gone after her former friends?”
He laughed. “God, no. Molly may not be the brightest bulb in the batch, and she may have a somewhat unstable temperament, but I doubt even she would be that foolish.”
“Why? You said it was a matter of jealousy; if she was angry enough, it’s certainly possible.”
“No.” His voice was flat. Adamant. “She’d know only pain and death would come to her if she was so foolish.”
“You said she wasn’t bright, so maybe she is.” I sat down and opened the glove box. “And that soul eater was called here by anger.”
“Yes, but it couldn’t have been Molly.” He opened the driver side door and started searching around and under the seat. “She hasn’t a scrap of witch power.”
“Are you sure of that?”