Back at the loft, the body of the Nagas Demon was cleaned up and hauled down to the garage to be stripped down and covered in Mix, and while Mace tried to rig up an interim lock on the fire escape door, the headhunter had broken it when he busted through, Bethalie was forced to sit and have another coffee. Honestly, she was starting to O.D. on the stuff, yet her body seemed to be craving that hit of caffeine.

The clubs around town were open, though they usually didn't start hopping until after midnight, but since she couldn't hold another ounce of liquid, she decided to high tail it out of the loft and head for The Warehouse. Bethalie slipped into her coat, draped her messenger bag across her body, and the four of them all piled into the van. Noah sped them into the heart of the Waterfront District and they got an early start, staking their claim at a table in the middle of the dimly lighted space and then...they waited. And waited.

Even though it was a weeknight, the club eventually began to fill up, at first with Daylighters, who trickled in and took up all the best tables and crowded in at the bar. As the place eventually started to throb with music and people began to pile onto the dance floor, several males tried to approach their table, but were swiftly chased away by Noah, as well as Mace, who had apparently become very protective of Evyn.

It was nearly midnight when the first Darksiders started trickling in to join the party. The cool factor clearly demanded that they show up fashionably late. Bethalie, getting down to business, questioned a couple of leather clad male Vamps and a Warlock or two, just to pass the time. Neither of them were overly cooperative, of course, but since they were surrounded by a sea of humans with watchful eyes and cell phones at the ready, she couldn't do much about it.

As the hour started to grow later and she was about to call it quits because Noah was on the verge of tearing the head off the next inebriated Daylighter who was unfortunate enough to decide to get near the table, Bethalie happened to catch sight of the three women she'd been waiting for making their way through the crowd. And her hunch had been right. They were definitely Witches.

The slinky black clothes, the plethora of jewelry that dripped from them, and the deep, unnatural shade of red hair were dead giveaways. And of course, she was genetically predisposed to sense a Darksider when she saw one, even if they hadn't been decked out in a desperate bid for male attention. And that bid was working because they commanded the notice of every male within eyeshot as they wafted over to the far corner of the space and took a small table there. Even Noah and Mace were watching them with a bit more interest than was necessary, but she refrained from bringing attention to the fact.

Bethalie didn't go to them right away. She instead decided to watch them for a bit. They certainly were very...popular. It seemed as if nearly every man in the building was instantly falling over themselves to get to that table and the drinks immediately started coming. Obviously, the women were used to having people at their beck and call, whether Darksider or human didn't seem to matter.

Watching the women sipping their free drinks and speaking a few words to whatever man was the next to sidle up to them, Bethalie began to think she was wasting her time. Those three women would probably talk to half the men in the place and would probably take one or two of them home. Just because Kelli had seen them speaking to a couple of the dead Vampires didn't appear to mean much. It was actually starting to look like nothing more than coincidence, despite Evyn's theory. Which meant...she was doomed. If this didn't pan out, she would have to focus on the Narc-line and how on earth could she pin down what could feasibly turn out to be dozens and dozens of possible suspects?

Still, she had to follow every lead, no matter that it would probably get her absolutely nowhere.

"Stay here!" she ordered, getting to her feet, but naturally, Noah chose to ignore her. She elbowed her way through the throng of people and over to the women holding court at the small table, noting that their black clothing caused their unnatural red hair to stand out in sharp contrast. She had to shoo a couple of sweaty young men away from the table so that she could step up and take a turn. "I need to speak with you three!" she shouted above the pulsating music, which was starting to give her a migraine, by the way.

"We aren't breaking any laws, Ward!" one of them said, giving her a haughty glare.

Bethalie turned to Noah. "Get the music turned down, please!" she beseeched, ready to storm the DJ booth and beat the equipment into a pile of pieces and parts that would never again be used to create such a brain jarring, horrendous racket.

Noah turned and hurried away to obey the request, getting swallowed up in the mash of bodies gyrating about the dance floor.

"Kill-joy!" one of the women scoffed and Bethalie declined to respond. She refused to stand around shouting like a fool just to be heard.

She only had to wait a moment before the music dropped to a softer level, which caused a wave of relief to roll through her. "State your names," she demanded, feeling irritable and trying to remind herself that hundreds of eyes were watching, so she needed to keep things low key. But, just in case, she kept her right hand near her messenger bag, ready to grab out a Witch Ball at the first sign of anything hinky.

All three women rolled their eyes. "Jenna Hawes," the youngest looking woman answered coolly.

"Marley Tate."

"Leila Simpson."

"Are either of you girls familiar with a Vamp called Leonard Keith?" she questioned firmly, ignoring the stone cold glares from the Sister Witches.

They all stared up at her with uninterested expressions. "The name doesn't ring a bell, but its possible. We're acquainted with a lot of men," Marley Tate stated, taking a sip from her clear plastic cup.

Reaching for her phone, she took a moment to fiddle with the blasted thing, trying to find the pictures that Evyn had sent to her. Managing that feat, she passed the phone over to the women, who all huddled around the screen to get a look.

"Go through the pictures and tell me if you're...acquainted...with any of those men," she stated.

"Two or three of them look familiar," Marley Tate replied, handing the phone back to her once the pictures had been scrolled through.

"Which two or three?" she questioned.

"The first one, if that's Leonard Keith. Maybe the third and fourth ones," Marley Tate replied. "But, that's probably because they've approached as some point."

Bethalie found the pictures, which were of Adam Turner and Sean Marx. It was then she realized there was no picture of Jurgen Van Cleeve. And Lance Morgan's picture seemed to be lost somewhere in the deeps of the blasted phone.

"Have you ever spoken to these men?" she asked easily. "Is there anything at all you can tell me about them? Maybe who they hang out with when they're here? Have you seen them with each other? Or have you seen them with any of the same people?"

"I'm afraid we can't help you, Ward. They may have approached us or offered us a drink, but we don't even bother with asking names, let alone holding conversations," Leila Simpson stated, sounding bored.

"I think the third guy there introduced himself once. Adam Turner, if memory serves," Jenna spoke up, her dark eyes darting about the space, focusing on anything but Bethalie.

"And that was it? He just introduced himself and then...left? You didn't chat with him at all?" she wondered, not really enjoying the sight of the three faces before her.

Kelli was right. These girls were not very attractive. Jenna Hawes actually reminded her of a chubby little mouse, just without the whiskers.

"No! We don't chat with the dregs that try to sidle up to us!" Leila Simpson answered rather snappishly. "Why would we?"

"It'd be nearly impossible, wouldn't it?" Jenna Hawes offered with a rather cocky lift to her brow. "If we took the time to speak with every man who approached, we'd never get to leave here."

"You're wasting your questions, Ward," Marley Tate told her. "We come here for a few drinks. We don't socialize much beyond taking those drinks and shooing the dregs away."

"Since you're asking after them, I'm assuming these particular ones won't be bringing us drinks anymore," Leila Simpson stated, wiggling her fingers at someone behind Bethalie, the smile on the girl's homely, bird-like face making it clear that whoever had caught her attention was probably on the better side of good looking.

Noah suddenly appeared next to her and it took Bethalie a second to put it together, but when she did...an errant flash of...possessiveness...flared up inside her gut and...well, Leila Simpson was very lucky there were so many humans crammed in around them.

"So, you don't chat with them, but can you tell me who they hang out with here?" she repeated the previous question, focusing on each heavily made up face in turn. "Do you see them with the same people? Have you seen any of them with them each other?"

"I repeat, there's nothing we can tell you, Ward," Marley Tate sighed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "We pay little attention to what people are doing or who they're doing it with. If it doesn't have to do with us, we don't care about it."

Bethalie had to grit her teeth against the urge to jerk the girl up out of her chair and make her understand that her attitude was not appreciated. And come to that, neither were the goo-goo eyes Leila Simpson was making at Noah. But, again, there were countless humans watching, so she kept her hands to herself. Somehow.

"So, I take it I'm wasting my time asking you ladies if you're acquainted with an oily little Warlock named Lance Morgan or a Vamp, Jürgen Van Cleeve," she tossed those names out there, just for the hell of it, figuring it couldn't hurt.

There were two completely blank faces looking at her, but there was a flicker of something that flashed across the third face, something that she would have missed if she hadn't been paying attention. But, she'd seen it. That brief, almost imperceptible waft of tell-tale recognition.

Aha. Perhaps she'd just caught some small break, after all.

"I don't recognize the names," Marley Tate answered, taking another sip from her cup.

"Did you come here just to ask us about those men?" Leila Simpson wondered, giving Noah a smile. And Noah smiled back, causing a sharp stab of irritation to go slicing through Bethalie.

"I guess you wasted your entire night," Jenna Hawes stated, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. "That sucks for you."

Despite Jenna Hawes' opinion on the matter, she was almost certain that it wasn't a complete waste of her time. She'd just lucked onto some sort of connection, which at least gave her something to chase down. However, she knew a stonewall when she was suddenly beating her head against one.  But, this was not the place to extract any information that was being withheld. And perhaps facing three Witches down all at once was an unwise maneuver, anyway. She had no clue just how powerful they might be and fighting the three of them together might get her killed. So, she wouldn't take them head on just yet.

"It seems you're on the hunt for quite a number of people, Ward, and clearly having trouble tracking them down," Marley Tate pointed out. "It makes a girl wonder just how good at your job you really are."

"With all the talk about her, you'd think she was next thing to a God. But, it turns out...she's not," Leila Simpson added with a measure of disdain.

Bethalie gritted her jaw teeth and pulled in a steadying breath. "I might be in touch again, so don't slip off the radar," she warned stiffly before turning to walk back to Evyn and Mace, needing to get away from the women before she gave the human's in the building a show they'd never forget.

Noah was right behind her, saying nothing as they elbowed their way back to the table to retrieve the rest of their little crew and then made their way out the front door and into the chill night air.

No one spoke until they were all seated in their respective places in the van and then Noah broke the silence. "What happened in there?"

"I got stonewalled," Bethalie told him. "So, I'm going to follow them when they leave here."

"Do you think they really know anything useful?" Noah asked uncertainly.

"They know something. How useful it might be, I have no idea," Bethalie stated. But, she couldn't leave a single lead unexplored.

"What can I do, Bethalie?" Evyn asked, flipping open her laptop and clicking away.

"You can start running Marley Tate, Leila Simpson, and Jenna Hawes," Bethalie answered. "Noah, move us down the street, but make sure we can see the front door and the parking lot."

Noah started the engine and moved the utility van to a more preferable location a half block down from the club, giving them a view of whoever left the building and also the parking lot so they could get behind the Sister Witches when they left for the night.

"Bethalie, what about the number on the napkin?" Mace suggested and Evyn let out a gasp.

"Bethalie, I keep forgetting about that!" she exclaimed, sounding stricken. "I am so sorry! I-I'll do it right now."

Bethalie didn't blame Evyn for not remembering. She'd forgotten about it, too, what with the headhunting Demon invading her home and all. Of course, it was probably nothing anyway. Who knew how many men those women exchanged numbers with in the span of a night, despite their insistence that they didn't socialize with the dregs.

And she had more than a small inkling those Sister Witches were up to no good. The were obviously casting a little something that drew the attention of every male in the vicinity. Which could be an offense that would allow her to put them down instantly, simply due to the sheer number of humans that were affected, and without going through the usual red tape, but only if she could prove that they were taking advantage of the males in some way that was more significant than grifting a few free drinks. But, that would have to wait. One thing at a time.

"Should you cross reference the number? I thought it looked familiar," Mace said quietly and Evyn's fingers clicked across the computer keys with lightning speed.

A pang shot through Bethalie. Poor Evyn. She was definitely going to be packed off for a vacation just as soon as possible. This was all clearly too much for her.

"I've got it," Evyn said, obviously trying to pull herself together. "It's a cell registered to one Jenna Hawes."

Hmmm. Well, that only proved that Jenna Hawes had traded numbers with Leonard Keith. That was nothing too surprising. As she'd reckoned, The Sister Witches undoubtedly traded numbers with a lot of everybody.

"I cross referenced...and it matches the cell phone number that Lance Morgan calls several times a day," said Evyn.

Bethalie felt something sharp go through her. Well, well. She was back to Lance Morgan, was she?

Good old Lance, the man who worked on the Narc-line and openly admitted to talking to a friend about his work. If Jenna Hawes was that friend, and Lance Morgan was calling her number several times a day, then there was every chance that Lance had spilled the names of offenders to her. All three girls had professed at least brushing up against a couple of her dead Vampires, and Jenna's number found in Leonard Keith's apartment was proof that their interactions were a bit more involved than simply accepting drinks without so much as speaking a word.

She had no idea if the Witches were involved in the killings, and certainly no clue as to why that might possibly be, but...were that the case...three Witches together could absolutely prove powerful enough to restrain a Vampire, slit his wrists, and drain him dry.

So, it seemed another chat with Lance Morgan was in order. And this time, she was going to get the answers she wanted.

†

The Sister Witches left the club at two thirty in the morning and climbed into the same car, a very eco-friendly red Prius, but then Witches were known to have a penchant for Going Green. Keeping back from the Prius, Noah followed them through the deserted and darkened city streets, moving out of the Waterfront District and over into the residential area. They wound their way through the tree lined lanes peppered with bright lamp posts and nice houses sitting on well-kept lawns, following the Witches to a small cul-de-sac and a two story house there. The house was a quaint Victorian number and even in the dark Bethalie could see that it had been painted countless different colors, just as any proper Victorian structure should be.

The Sister Witches all exited the Prius and trooped up the dozen front steps, entering the darkened house and closing the door behind them. Once they went inside, the house remained dark, letting Bethalie know the three had probably went straight to bed. She couldn't blame them. How exhausting it must be to lounge about, sipping free drinks, while being worshiped by throngs of men.

"Well, now what? They don't seem to be up to anything sinister tonight," Noah pointed out, putting the van into park just down the street.

Bethalie took in a breath. She had a van full of people who all had to be tired and hungry and testy, but she couldn't let that stop her from doing what she would normally do. "Stay in the van. I'll be right back."

She was out in the darkness and moving toward the house before anyone could protest. Noah didn't protest, but instead fell into step beside her before she could make it more than six feet.

"What are you doing?" he asked her sternly, keeping as close to her as he dared.

"I'm checking things out," she answered, wishing that he would just leave her to her own devices for a minute.

She had been doing this for a while now with great success, all on her own and without the aid of a dark, brooding Vampire who seemed to think she was a helpless newbie who needed to have someone holding her hand.

They hurried up the street and across the front yard of the colorful house, which lay dark and dead silent. She didn't have a reason to gain entry into the house, especially not with all three Witches inside and on their own turf, but she couldn't leave until she satisfied that little nagging piece of her that was telling her to at least make a quick sweep of the property.

Bypassing the broad front porch, she led the way toward the side of the house, moving past the darkened windows and the large, neatly trimmed shrubs planted all along the structure. The side yard was pitch dark and the back yard was no better, which would ordinarily have brought out her tactical flash light, but she suddenly realized she didn't need it. After a minute of letting her eyes adjust to the total darkness, the world seemed to brighten, as if someone had turned on a light in a neighboring house, illuminating the area...only no light had been turned on.

Well, it seemed this thing that had been done to her just kept evolving.

The backyard was a large, fenced in space full of flower beds and shade trees and almost as soon as Bethalie rounded the corner of the house she realized that the air was scented with a perfume that was so cloyingly sweet it almost instantly choked her throat closed. That scent was so strong it was akin to having cheap, drug store perfume sprayed right into her face. It coated her tongue and invaded her nostrils and she had to hold her breath so she wouldn't gag from the sheer strength of it.

Balls! What sort of noxious weeds were those Witches growing on their property!

"It's Datura," Noah said, his own voice hoarse. "It's all along the back fence there. Just try not to breathe too deeply or it'll start to set your lungs on fire."

Datura! She kept Datura in the garage to add to the Mix and never before had she even noticed that it had a scent. But, now...balls! It was so potent that the sweetness was starting to sting her throat and lungs. If she breathed too much of it in, she believed it would, in fact, light her lungs on fire.

Bethalie turned her tearing eyes to Noah, who seemed only slightly put off by that noxious, thick perfume fouling the air. "It doesn't bother you?" she wondered, covering her nose and mouth with her hands.

He shrugged. "I've been around for centuries. You build up a tolerance to things after a while."

Right. But, she hadn't been around for centuries and the sickly stink of the Datura was suffocating her. So, she picked up the pace and booked it across the backyard, past the small back porch and through the maze of flower beds, making for the opposite side of the house with the hope that the air there was untainted by the vile stench that was smothering her.

Noah coughed beside her and reached out to grab her hand, ushering her forward because, clearly, the stench was such that it was starting to get to him, too. They hoofed it around the house and up the opposite side yard, both dragging in lungfuls of fresh air and coughing as they let them out. She could actually taste the sickening perfume with every exhalation! It was coating her taste buds and the roof of her mouth and she was almost certain it might have singed the insides of her nostrils!

She made for the front yard, wanting to get in the van and get back to the garage, thinking water might help to wash away the vile taste, but Noah's hand tightened on hers and stopped her short.

"Bethalie, wait," he said to her, pulling her backward several steps.

"What is it?" she asked in a rough voice, a little tingle of fear running up her spine. What did the Datura do to her? Did it bring on a full blown death mask?

"No one should have that much Datura growing in their garden," he said to her. "It's enough to make even me ill. It's too much for just a general purpose."

Noah's words stabbed through Bethalie like the blade of a knife and she spun back around, retracing her steps along the side of the house, but stopped just before she reached the backyard. Keeping just out of reach of the noxious fumes, she focused her gaze on the backyard, scanning the space...until she found the back fence. Through the dimness she could see the unmistakable vines trailing up the wooden planks of the fence, covering the entire thing in a thick tangle of leaves and frilly blossoms that were the size of fists. In the daylight they would be the color of freshly spilled blood.

Noah was right. No one, be it Witch, Ward, or Demon, would have need of that much Datura. Not unless they were using it for something...illicit. Datura was a dangerous thing to try and grow. The leaves of the plant were poisonous and unless handled properly, the person harvesting it would meet their end rather swiftly. Well, unless they knew the antidote that would off-set the poison.

From beside her, Noah made a tisking sound. "Why would three Witches need to grow that amount of Datura? It's good for nothing unless you're out to—"

"Immobilize a Vampire," Bethalie cut in.

Datura could actually kill a Vampire, given the right conditions and the right amount. And it would have to be an ungodly amount because the Vampire would have to basically lie down and soak in a vat of Datura flowers, and remain there long enough to be eaten through. However, it was widely known that the plant was potent enough to stun, or perhaps completely immobilize, a Vampire if he actually took in enough of the stuff.

"And just why would three harmless little Witches need to immobilize a Vampire?" Noah asked, his tone casual.

"Because it's hard to drain a Vampire who's well and able enough to tear their throats out," Bethalie answered the question.

"So, you think it could be these women who are getting to your targets before you?" he questioned.

"I'd say they just rose to the top of the list," she told him.

It really did appear that the Sister Witches were becoming the most likely suspects, all things given. Though, the why of it all absolutely eluded her.

"Now what? Do we kick the front door in and drag the Witches out kicking and screaming?" Noah questioned, seeming a mite too enthusiastic at that prospect.

"That's probably not wise considering we have no idea how strong they are," she pointed out, not really feeling in the mood to be flayed or to have her viscera liquefied inside of her.

"They can't be that strong if they have to use herbal handcuffs," Noah shrugged.

"We don't know for sure if that's what the Datura is being used for," she reminded. "Witches get up to all sorts of stuff. They could be using it for a hundred different purposes."

Noah considered that for a moment. "Well, it looks like they've all three gone to bed. And we're both faster than they are. Let's just storm the gates and snap their necks. If we take out two of them right off, that will just leave one—"

"Noah, we're not doing that," she cut him off, thwarting his little impromptu plan. "I can't just take out three Witches unless they've committed some sort of offense. I need proof that they're the ones putting down my targets."

She wasn't a murderer. She, too, had laws she needed to abide by.

"Well, proving it shouldn't be that hard. We simply trail them and catch them in the act," was Noah's word on the subject.

Ah, if it were only that easy. But, alas, it was not.

"Since I spoke to them in the club, they probably won't run right out and find another victim. They know they're on my radar now." Which in all likelihood meant they would lay low for a while. Which could drag the whole thing out for who knew how long.

"But, you have to keep at it?" he asked.

"That's my job. I don't stop until the bodies are dissolving," she answered.

There was a moment of silence during which nothing could be heard but the night winds tousling through the tree tops. Bethalie, feeling that her body had been mostly purged of the noxious scent of Datura, straightened her spine and stepped away from Noah.

"We should get Evyn and Mace back to the garage. It's been a long night," she stated, turning to go for the van.

"You need to rest when you get home, Bethalie," Noah said, keeping pace with her as she headed through the darkness. "Letting yourself get overly weak is not a good idea."

She did not deign to reply as they hurried down the sidewalk and climbed into their respective seats in the van. Her mother was back home in Tennessee and as far as she knew, she had not adopted a substitute.

"What'd you find?" Evyn asked as they both belted in and Noah started the engine.

"We found that those Witches are growing enough Datura to immobilize dozens of Vampires," she told her assistant.

"So, you think it's them?" Mace asked.

"At the moment, they're our most likely suspects," she answered.

Mace let out a hard breath. "I'm new here, so can somebody tell me why a Witch would need to drain that many Vampires? Is Vampire blood used in spells or...or...potions or whatever?"

Wasn't that just the question of the hour. "Witches use blood for all sorts of reasons. But, I can't think of a single reason why they'd need that much of it. Or why they'd be going after Vampire blood in particular."

"Not to mention why they'd need that much of it in such a short amount of time," Noah added.

Noah's words did send something of a creeping sensation along her spine. If the Sister Witches were responsible for offing her targets, then they were clearly up to something that was beyond the scope of her own, as well as Noah's understanding. And that was rather...a frightening notion.

However, no matter what they were up to, if the three women were behind the killings, and the subsequent irresponsible disposal, of the dead Vampires, she would figure out. She'd managed to fumble through this far, so hopefully she could fumble her way on through to the end.