CHAPTER 2:
DANTE
(5x7: the performer)

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        BESS ROLLED INTO THE SPOT next to the sleek black Cadillac in the parking lot of the BAU building, which became her usual parking place since her first day about two weeks ago. She had barely stepped out of the elevator on the sixth floor and headed to start another day dedicated to paperwork in the solitude of her office when JJ prevented her from doing so. Apparently, the communication liaison thought a new case needed the team's attention, so Bess asked her to gather everyone in the conference room and went there herself as well.

        She took the empty seat facing the door, watching the other agents fill the room and join her around the round table. Emily, wearing a shy smile, was neither completely closed off to Bess nor fully open. Grumpy Derek Morgan's expression indicated he hadn't changed his mind, he still hated her completely. JJ, who, like Emily, played in the midfield. Hotch never cracking a smile wasn't new either, neither was the stoic expression he looked her over with as he muttered a quiet greeting. And, last but not least, David Rossi, whose smile was the only reason Bess still felt like a human being.

        It sure looked to be such a wonderful day. Maybe she should just give up and join Satan in hell right away. That seemed more fun than this...

        JJ didn't hesitate to begin the briefing as she handed out copies of the case files for every BAU agent. "The latest victim is Tara Farris, 20. She's the third victim in two weeks, all found on freeway off-ramps by commuters." The TV screen displayed images of a blonde woman in a daring gothic dress with matching makeup, lying in the dirt, like some thrown-away empty drink bottle that was of no use to anyone anymore.

        "Well, he's not hiding them," Hotch stated as he opened up his folder containing the copies of the case files, and started reading through their contents.

        "An LA freeway during morning rush hour? He wants them found," Rossi agreed, accepting the folder JJ handed him next.

        Morgan agreed with a flash of his eyebrows, "Quickly."

        "Well, they're still dressed. That minimizes the shock value," Emily noted as she took a peek herself at the files JJ had just given her a second ago.

        "Maybe he's concerned for them? Thank you," Reid added when JJ handed him his copy too, then took the last empty seat next to him and Bess. "Think he wants them taken care of?"

        "No signs of sexual assault on any of the victims," JJ revealed, while Bess quickly read through the files in her hands, memorizing every single one of them in detail for detail without any hard effort.

        Rossi surveyed the photos of the blonde girl, muttering, "Look how pale she is."

        "All of them were severely hypovolemic. Tara had less than a pint of blood in her," JJ pointed out.

        Reid spoke up, "Look at this, though. The first two had more than three pints each. If exsanguination is the goal, the UnSub is definitely becoming more proficient."

        JJ pushed a button on the remote control, bringing up another set of photos on the TV screen. She continued, "This is new. Tara's the only victim to have a written message."

        "The liar," Bess read out the words probably written in blood on the girl's left arm.

        "The liar. That's strange, isn't it? Not a liar or just liar," Emily commented with her eyebrows knitted together as she wondered about the meaning of the UnSub's choice of words.

        "So what did you lie about, Tara?" Morgan mused as he fidgeted with his pen, his gaze also fixated on the TV screen.

        JJ spoke up again, "All of the victims appear to have been strangled and then bled out through identical wounds in the throat."

        Bess felt her lips parting as she stared at the new photos appearing on the TV screen, then let out an incredulous snort. "Wait, seriously? Are those supposed to be fang marks?" she asked, shaking her head while slumping back in her seat. She remembered vividly their last case with the taxidermist taking people's eyes, but this was another level of nonsense. Seriously, what the hell?

        But this was not everything. JJ's expression turned into a grimace as she added, "All of the wounds on the victims were covered in saliva. Human saliva. As though—"

        "Someone drank their blood," Reid finished her sentence, causing the others to grimace too at the unsettling news.

        "Gross!" Bess declared, her nose wrinkled. This job here was way out of the normal category, if you were interested in her opinion. That much about spending the day with paperwork.

        A bit more than half an hour later, they were already sitting on the jet and were on their way to Los Angeles, where this latest case took place. This time Bess got lucky, enjoying a window seat in the club suite beside Hotch, facing Rossi and JJ, while Emily, Reid, and Morgan occupied the couch opposite. JJ had just finished her call with the LAPD, turning her attention to her team again. "So, they've already set up a task force in Los Angeles."

        "This isn't their first serial case," Rossi noted under his breath, opening his folder of the case files once again to continue their debriefing, as they usually did.

        JJ looked around, asking, "You remember Detective Owen Kim?"

        "From the stalker case." Hotch nodded without looking up.

        "You remember that case, don't you, Spence?" JJ pressed with a small smile on her lips as she glanced at the boy genius, and Bess felt there might have been a story hiding behind that question. One, she probably would never get to know, of course.

        The boy nodded, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. "I do remember that case."

        "Yeah, you ever talk to, um, Lila anymore?"

        Now, this question caused Reid to blush as deeply as possible. Bess watched him with an amused expression as he mumbled, "You know, I think we should probably focus on this case right now. It's a little more pertinent." He pursed his lips into a tight-lipped smile—one of his favorite reactions, Bess figured—causing the others to suppress their smiles and look away.

        "All right, so tell us about blood drinkers, Reid," Bess saved the boy from becoming more embarrassed, she noticed his shoulders relax as he got off the hook. Bess found Reid's mind with its eidetic memory and 187 IQ quite fascinating, seeing many similarities to her own while being all so different at once.

        The boy began, "Human blood consumption, or clinical vampirism, is known as Renfield's syndrome. It's named after the insect-eating character in Bram Stoker's novel, Dracula."

        Emily butted in, "Are they sadists?"

        "Not necessarily. Pain to the victim is usually only a byproduct. Blood is the focus. Renfield's syndrome is usually accompanied by varying levels of schizophrenia and occasionally more classic cannibalism if the condition evolves."

        Rossi hummed upon hearing this. "Classic cannibalism. Lovely job we have," he scoffed with a nod of his head, his eyes meeting Bess' as she smirked back at him upon his remark. He could definitely have enjoyed her smile more if Hotch hadn't been glaring at him, causing him to look away first.

        Bess studied Rossi's face for a few more seconds before her attention turned to Reid again, who continued, "I will say this. True cases are exceedingly rare."

        JJ grimaced upon hearing this. "That's comforting. Sort of."

        All of a sudden, the technical analyst, Garcia's voice took control of the discussion as she began speaking through the computer that had been placed between Bess and Rossi on the wooden table of the club suite, following the briefing via video chat connection. "Renfield's may be rare, but vampires are anything but, and there's a huge subculture in Los Angeles of the red-drinking undead."

        "Why is that not a surprise?" Rossi asked with a frown.

        As an answer to his question, Garcia showed them different shots of people dressed as vampires, prompting Morgan to muse, "Garcia, all these people drink blood?"

        "Au contraire. They mostly just dress up like Prentiss did in high school and they make-believe. It's all kinds of delicious." Garcia smirked at Emily through the laptop screen, watching her jaw drop to the floor upon her teasing.

        Reid shook his head. "It's not the same thing at all. As a matter of fact, we should refer to this UnSub as a vampirist, not a vampire. And they would be attracted to the subculture merely for its professed worship of blood," he explained.

        "Okay, I'm going to continue spelunking through the various online sites, see if anything jumps up and bites me," Garcia replied, lifting up the glass of red juice she had been drinking for the occasion. Bess had no idea what it was and decided it was for the best that she didn't.

        "Thanks, Garcia. Stay close," she told her, glancing at the blonde woman through the camera. Her hair was made into locks today, and she was dressed in a pink cardigan with light pink feathers around her wrists like she was some flamingo—at least, in Bess' opinion.

        Garcia gulped as she froze for a moment, then muttered, "Yes, ma'am. Garcia out."

        Bess stared for long at the home screen of the laptop where Garcia's head had been just a second before, wondering what she might have done to get a reaction like that from her. Since they were introduced to each other, Bess hadn't seen the woman once in the BAU building. It was like she was hiding from her. And she had to say, she did it pretty remarkably.

        But before Bess could have wondered about this for a bit longer, Reid spoke up again, "You guys, one more thing. Vampirists are coveters. They most generally always have some sort of relationship with the victim, even if it's tangential, and they're likely to become obsessed. They've almost certainly crossed paths in some way."

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        AFTER LANDING, THEY ALL WENT to the LAPD's building, where JJ led the team into the bullpen. Bess' gaze wandered around the engaged place, surveying the police personnel deep in work at the cubicles, before it came to a rest on a good-looking guy, who seemed like he had been waiting for them. "Hi, Lieutenant Kim. Agent Jareau," JJ greeted the man with a handshake, followed by a smile.

        Lieutenant Kim's lips curled up into a smile too as he recalled, "JJ, of course. I remember most of you." He looked around, shaking hands with the BAU agents he knew, saying, "Agent Hotchner. Reid. Morgan. Welcome back to the left coast."

        Hotch took over the conversation, "These are Agents Prentiss and Rossi. I believe they're new to you," he introduced them to the lieutenant, and the two reached forward to shake hands with the man. "And Agent Sinclair, our new unit chief," he added, earning a surprised look from Lieutenant Kim. "Long story," Hotch mumbled, and the lieutenant turned to Bess without asking any more questions, shaking hands with her finally as well.

        "Hi. Pleasure. We already have a room set up full of glass boards, case files, and extremely bad coffee," Lieutenant Kim stated as he turned away and led the group into one of the offices on the other side of the bullpen.

        Prentiss commented on the way, "We've worked with a lot less."

        Once everyone found a spot pleasing to them in the office, Lieutenant Kim began, "Well, I know you like to start with the freshest information and work your way back, so Tara's apartment has been processed and sealed in case you want to go there. And her body, along with that of the first two girls, is at the morgue with an ME waiting there for your call."

        For a moment, silence fell on the room as no one spoke. Rossi dropped his head as he barely audibly cleared his throat, prompting Bess to glance at him, noticing his slightly raised eyebrow. They were waiting for her. She bit her lip while quickly pulling her thoughts together, trying to create a working strategy that didn't reveal her not having the slightest idea what to do next. Come on, Bess. It shouldn't be that hard.

        "All right. Uh, Jareau, get set up here, and then, uh, get in touch with Garcia. Send her the witness information, so she can start cross-referencing with the first two victims," she began, earning a nod from JJ that she understood her task. Bess turned towards Reid next. "Reid, I want you to go through all the case files, and set up a preliminary profile based on what you already know of the psychopathology. And the rest of us, let's find out what we can on Tara."

        It went easier than expected, they all accepted their tasks at hand. Maybe reading all those websites and articles actually did the trick. Or that she had started reading Rossi's books... Who knows?

        Taking into consideration what Reid had told them previously on the jet about vampirists, JJ and the boy figured that if they could find a connection between the victims through someone in their lives, that would narrow down the suspect pool significantly. A girl named Gina King had known Tara the longest—the girls being classmates and all—hence, they began to gather all the information they could on that relationship, among all of Tara's other friends, providing a list that JJ could do some follow-up on the next morning.

        In the meantime, Bess went with Rossi to check out Tara's apartment, while she sent Emily, Morgan, and Hotch to the morgue to talk with the coroner and see the bodies for themselves. Rossi opened the front door with the key they got from Lieutenant Kim, and Bess followed him inside, watching the man reach for the lamp beside the door to illuminate the room. The place mirrored the girl's personality to a tee, though it gave Bess the feeling like she was at her grandmother's. Everything smelled and seemed old and worn out, indicating that the girl was more poor than rich.

        "So, Sinclair, what should I know about you?" Rossi asked as he turned around in the living room, heading for one of the cabinets at the far end to check it out.

        Bess almost laughed at his question while putting on gloves to work her way through the kitchen stuff. She chose to team up with Rossi to avoid Morgan, but she didn't mind not having to breathe the same air as Aaron 'hard-stare' Hotchner either. This allowed Emily to enjoy the lovely company of both men instead. Lucky her. What Bess didn't expect was that this would lead to an interrogation with Rossi. She wasn't surprised by it though, and fortunately, it didn't make her nervous either.

        "There's not so much, really," she replied, opening the cupboards and taking a peek inside.

        "I find that hard to believe. Everyone has stories," came his response, causing her to flash her eyebrows. If you knew mine, you wouldn't believe them, trust me. "First time leading a team?" Rossi continued, making his way through the books on the old coffee table in front of the couch as he glanced in her direction.

        "Do I suck at it this much?" Bess shot back, narrowing her eyes at him. However, the corner of her mouth curling up showed him that she wasn't mad about him noticing.

        Rossi smiled back. "I didn't say that."

        "It wasn't my choice, believe me," she added, exiting the kitchen and leaning against the partition wall separating the living room with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched him hover over the coffee table.

        "Looks like she was studying to make movies," Rossi noted, showing Bess one of the books before he straightened up. "Why didn't you say no, then?" he changed back to the previous topic, raising an eyebrow in question.

        Bess shrugged. "I'm more stubborn than just simply giving up." She turned around and led the way to the girl's bedroom through the narrow hallway. There was what looked to be a small, homemade sanctuary with tens of photos of Tara and her friends dressed in gothic mascaras, their faces painted white under heavy makeup; among skulls and other stuff that people normally used as Halloween decoration. Above the drawer on the wall hung a large poster with a black-haired guy dressed as a vampire, the text written in large red letters read 'Dante'.

        "Who is this guy?" Rossi wondered when he came to a halt beside Bess and frowned at the poster.

        "Not someone I want to go on a date with," she sneered, then turned away, her gaze falling onto the laptop lying on the desk. She opened it with her gloved hand, pushing a key, so the screen came to life, showing a photo of Tara. "Well, if you want to look into a young girl's life today, you have to access her MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter accounts," she told Rossi, fishing her phone from her pocket, and dialed Garcia's number.

        While they were asking Garcia to dig into Tara's internet history and any other digital footprint she had left behind, Hotch, Emily, and Morgan learned from the ME that the wounds previously believed to be fang marks weren't fang marks at all. At least, none of them were made by human teeth. The edges were razor-sharp, indicating the use of some kind of boring instrument, as human teeth would have left a ragged and torn edge on the skin. The saliva samples had been sent to the lab—Hotch offered the assistance of the Bureau lab in LA too—promising more information tomorrow.

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        UNFORTUNATELY, THEIR UNSUB'S HUNGER FOR blood didn't seem to diminish, the next morning another girl's body was found at the bank of a reservoir dam, drawing Bess, Hotch, Morgan, Rossi, and Emily there with Lieutenant Kim to examine it from closer. JJ and Reid stayed back at the PD, letting Garcia access Tara's computer from her lair in Quantico, while they worked on the profile some more.

        This latest victim resembled the earlier ones; she wore gothic clothing with dark makeup, though much of it was smudged by some liquid. Water or tears, Bess couldn't figure out which one. She was surveying the poor girl's body when her phone started ringing with Reid's name flashing on the screen. "Reid?" she answered the call, walking a few feet away from the others to get some privacy.

        To her great surprise, it was JJ's voice that answered, "Hi, Sinclair. Reid is ready for the profile."

        "Oh, alright. We'll be right in. Thanks." She ended the call and pocketed her cell, walking back to the others. "Reid is ready with the profile."

        Hotch briefly glanced at her before saying, "Good." He then turned his attention to Lieutenant Kim, who had just joined them after finishing his questioning of the first responders.

        "Highway crew found her just as the sun was coming up."

        "How long has she been here?" Morgan asked, watching Rossi squat down beside the girl and press the back of his hand to her neck.

        He glanced up at them, declaring, "Barely even cold yet. Hour, maybe."

        "The liar," Emily read out the words written onto the girl's chest this time.

        "The same message," Bess agreed with a nod of her head as she observed Rossi rise.

        Hotch noted, "Apparently, it wasn't Tara-specific."

        "I wonder what it means, then," Emily mused.

        "First victim on a consecutive day," Rossi muttered with a sigh.

        Bess bit her lip as she turned to look at Lieutenant Kim, asking, "Detective Kim, can you have your crime scene techs keep us apprised of the processing? We're ready with a preliminary profile."

        "That's quick," the man commented with a stunned look appearing on his face.

        "So is this UnSub." Bess flashed her eyebrows, then turned around and started to climb back up to the main road where they had left their SUVs, with the rest of her team following.

        In the LAPD's bullpen, Reid had already gathered the police personnel by the time they returned from the dump site. He was waiting for them leaning against one of the desks pushed away to make more room, behind his back the whiteboard contained the most important points of their profile. Once again, Bess decided to step out for the presentation, observing from the sidelines as she continued to comprehend the trick of profiling.

        "We aren't looking for a vampire in the supernatural sense, only in the sense that this UnSub has a very strong desire, a need, for human blood. Now, fortunately, vampirists display several characteristics which will be helpful in finding him. He will have cut himself repeatedly. It's called auto-vampirism, essentially becoming his own first victim, and it's the way by which he first tasted human blood. Most vampirists are incredibly ashamed of this and will wear long-sleeved shirts in order to conceal it."

        Reid took a quick pause, then continued, "Secondly, there will be a long history of animal abuse, starting with smaller animals, such as insects and rodents, and then working his way up to larger things, dogs and cats. Though this is a well-recognized component of the homicidal triad seen in other serial killers, in the case of the vampirist, it's more pronounced. There will, interestingly enough, not be any animal torture, as with other psychopathologies. The killing isn't the point, it's merely a means by which to obtain the blood."

        Bess gave the boy a complimentary look for gathering all that information, and Morgan didn't hesitate to inform their audience about what they should focus on in order to find this UnSub, "Look hard at your animal control section's records, as far back as you can. They will probably have some record of this UnSub as an adolescent."

        Reid continued, "This guy also most likely lives in a poorly kept older home." He also pointed out this point on the whiteboard.

        "He needs a house for the privacy, not an apartment. It takes some time to drain a body completely of blood. Uninterrupted time," Rossi highlighted as his gaze wandered around the room.

        Reid took charge of the presentation once again, "This UnSub also most likely lives with an elderly woman. A grandmother, a mother, even an aunt."

        "How could you know that?" Lieutenant Kim questioned with knitted brows.

        "This type of mental illness, accompanied by extreme schizophrenia, dominates a family's entire existence. It often leads to a broken home, and a woman ends up as primary caregiver," Emily explained.

        Hotch muttered, "The men generally leave."

        That's not surprising, Bess scoffed with a smug smile forming on her lips for barely a second.

        "Oh, and one more thing," Reid remembered, "This type of disorder cannot be hidden for long. I guarantee you someone out there already knows this UnSub is very, very sick."

        Not much time after revealing their profile, Lieutenant Kim found Bess in the kitchenette as she made herself a cup of coffee—despite the earlier warnings. "Agent Sinclair, we've identified this morning's victim. Erin Hickman. She worked for a caterer at an event last night. They're still there cleaning up."

        "Ah, okay," Bess muttered, abandoning her cup of coffee to follow after the man. The path outside led her past the office they had set up as their base, so she took a peek inside and noticed Emily and Morgan there. "Prentiss, Morgan, let's go. They have ID'd the latest victim." She didn't have to say twice, both agents stood up from the table and followed her and Lieutenant Kim to one of their SUVs.

        They went to the fancy hotel where Hickman had disappeared the night before and spoke with the manager, Mr. Masters. She could hardly believe that the girl was dead, even though she still held some resentment towards Hickman for leaving her in the middle of the party. It was certainly a surprise; they had thought Hickman had been abducted, but it seemed that wasn't the case. When they asked if it was common for her to go missing like that, Ms. Masters revealed that Hickman had a problem with drugs.

        A moment later, a guy walked past them carrying a stack of CDs. Bess took one down from the top, immediately recognizing its cover. "We saw a poster of him at Tara's house," she said, showing Emily, Morgan, and Lieutenant Kim the CD cover, which matched the poster precisely. The album's title was just as familiar: The Liar.

        They stepped aside as Ms. Masters and her crew packed up their things from the previous night, and Emily dialed Garcia, putting her on speakerphone when the call connected, "Garcia, give me everything you've got on a singer named Dante."

        "Dante, the vampire guy? I was just about to call you," she replied, drawing a surprised look on Bess' face, just like the others.

        She asked, "You know him?"

        "Uh, yes, ma'am. Well, he's the one thing that all of our victims have in common."

        Bess licked her lips before telling Garcia, "You don't have to call me ma'am every time, Garcia. Sinclair is fine. I won't bite your head off for it. Anyway, what do you mean he's the one thing that all of our victims have in common?" she recalled the technical analyst's earlier statement word for word, pushing the conversation back in the direction she was interested in.

        "They have cyber shrines set up for this guy. They worship him. They're obsessed with his music."

        Emily spoke up, "Well, his new album comes out today and it's called 'The Liar'."

        "The Liar. I know. And isn't that what was written on them?"

        "Uh-huh."

        "Okay, uh, all of our victims, including the first two, were diehard fans. Tara and Gina, that's Tara's friend, they were practically running his fan club," Garcia explained what she had found on the girls.

        Bess questioned, "What about Erin Hickman, our latest victim?"

        "Erin Hickman. I haven't run across that name."

        "Okay, we need to talk to this Dante guy," Morgan stated, staring at the image of the man on the album cover.

        Bess agreed with him, saying, "Garcia, can you get us an address?"

        They turned to head back to their SUV, while Lieutenant Kim declared in a tired tone, "That's gonna take a little while. These celebrities are protected by layers of privacy. It's like finding information on a deeply—"

        Before he could have finished though, Garcia found the address. "22423 Greenvale Circle, Holmby Hills. GPS coordinates are uploading to you now. And his name is Paul Davies, by the way."

        "Run him for a criminal record, too," Emily remarked.

        "You got it."

        "Thanks, PG."

        Lieutenant Kim said with a smile, "I'd hate to think what she could find out about me."

        "Oh, I prefer not even to consider it," Emily muttered, earning a smile from Bess as they exchanged a look. She wasn't concerned about Garcia ever uncovering anything about her. In her line of work, there was no digital or paper trail to follow. It was no coincidence that their team was called Special Ops. Just like their motto was quite fitting too: No body, no crime.

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        BESS HAD TO ADMIT THAT this Dante guy wasn't exactly short on cash. His villa was perched on top of a hill, boasting a stunning view. They counted five sports cars parked out front, all from luxury brands. Then there was the house itself, distinguished by a gigantic iron sculpture standing in front of it.

        "It doesn't look like a poorly maintained single-family home," Lieutenant Kim noted as Morgan parked down in front of a blue car that looked way cheaper than the rest. "I hate to ask this, but are your profiles this far off sometimes?" He grimaced.

        "They haven't been yet," Morgan noted with a frown as he turned off the engine. "This probably isn't our UnSub, just a piece of the puzzle."

        Emily groaned as she got out from the back and stared up at the large building, her eyes wide in awe. "Whoa. I could get used to this."

        Bess liked the place as well. "This is definitely well maintained. However, this car feels a little off," she added, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the bright light as she examined it closely. It was a Honda sedan.

        "I'll ask Garcia to run the plate," Emily offered, pulling her phone from her pocket while Morgan, Bess, and Kim headed for the marble stairs leading up to the beautifully engraved front door.

        Before they could reach the top, the massive door opened, and the man who was by now familiar from the album covers and posters came out to meet them. His gaze wandered around the agents with bewilderment written on his face. "May I help you guys?"

        "Dante?" Bess asked back with an eyebrow raised.

        "No."

        This took her by surprise. "You're not the singer?"

        The man corrected her with a kind glare in his eyes, "Dante's not my name. He's a character I play. So who are you guys?"

        "We're investigating a murder—"

        Emily's sharp cry cut Lieutenant Kim's sentence in half. They all turned to look at her instead as she hurried up the stairs. "Sir! Would you mind coming in to answer a few questions?" she asked, staring at Paul Davies with a look that left no room for arguments.

        Bess's eyebrows shot up in surprise as Emily suddenly took charge of the situation. "Prentiss, what are you doing?"

        "That car is Erin Hickman's car. The victim's car," she explained, pointing behind her back at the blue sedan, then glanced at Paul Davies again, repeating, "Would you mind coming in, sir?" Morgan reached for his handcuffs as they glared up at the man, and Davies decided it was better to go with them willingly than by force.

        When they arrived back at the LAPD, an immense crowd of reporters swarmed the entrance, cutting off their path like vultures circling for prey. The press seemed to have caught wind of the story in record time, though it was a mystery how. There was no other way in than through the throng, so with Lieutenant Kim's jacket thrown over his head, Davies was quickly escorted out of sight, shielded from the barrage of shouted questions. Meanwhile, Rossi rushed out of the building to hold a brief press conference, hoping to divert the media's attention away from the celebrity.

        "Is he gonna be okay?" Bess questioned when the glass doors closed behind them, suppressing the loud shouting outside.

        "He's got a gun," Morgan muttered, prompting her to glance back over her shoulder. However, Rossi seemed to be doing fine controlling the hungry hyenas, so she followed Morgan and Emily to the interrogation rooms.

        "A lot of this doesn't add up," Reid mumbled about ten minutes later as they stood in front of the one-way mirror. In the interrogation room, Paul Davies was pacing back and forth ever since they had left him alone, trying to find service with his phone held up high in the air.

        Hotch noted, "We've been wrong before."

        "Not this much," Morgan disagreed.

        All of a sudden, the door of the monitoring room opened up and Emily joined them with a case file in her hands. "The plot thickens. He was arrested for domestic violence ten years ago."

        "How bad?" Bess questioned as she turned to look at her, getting bored of watching Davies' perseverance to get his phone to work. They all knew interrogation rooms were cut off from the outside world. The guy clearly didn't know this.

        "Well, Garcia was able to find the battery charge, but it was expunged, so who knows?"

        Lieutenant Kim scoffed, "Again, welcome to celebrity justice."

        "He's pretty agitated," Bess noted when her gaze was fixated on the singer once again.

        "I wonder why," Hotch mused. She saw that his eyebrows were knitted together once again. Were they ever relaxed? It made her wonder.

        "Well, celebrities out here aren't used to being put in the box," Lieutenant Kim explained with a shake of his head.

        Morgan spoke up, "This seems more than that, though."

        "I don't know. These are people everyone falls down around, defers to. Adulation is their norm."

        This gave Bess an idea. She turned to Emily, saying, "You know, Prentiss, that may be a good way for you to play him."

        "Me?" The woman stared back at her with a stunned look.

        "You were the one who pointed at him. He may see you as an adversary. Have him off-guard," she explained, then looked over her shoulder when the door opened again, and this time Rossi walked in. "I'm glad to see you survived the hyena attack." She smiled. "So, what did you tell them?"

        Rossi rubbed his nose as he came to a stop beside Bess, then replied, "My official statement was that I hate Los Angeles. What's happening?"

        Bess let out a chuckle at his remark and waved her head at Emily. "Prentiss is gonna take the lead." She raised an eyebrow to ask his opinion on the matter.

        Rossi nodded. "Good choice."

        "Remember, if he is the UnSub, he's ashamed of the disorder, so use that to your advantage," Reid told Emily as a form of encouragement.

        "Tell him you can't believe that someone like him could do this. Throw him a lifeline," Hotch added.

        "Ask him for his autograph."

        Emily chuckled upon hearing this, but then noticed Morgan wasn't joking. "Oh, right. Right. Adulation." She opened the door to the interrogation room and entered, while the rest of the team remained in front of the one-way mirror, observing Davies' every move.

        Bess saw from the corner of her eyes as Rossi leaned closer, causing her to turn her head and look at him instead. He paused for a moment, noting how beautiful her eyes were as she surveyed his face, drawing a shy smile on his lips. "So, uh, you're glad that I survived?" he whispered in a low voice for only Bess to hear his words, pulling a smile on her lips as well. He was flirting, not that she minded.

        "Well, what can I tell you, Rossi? You're the only person around here who seems to like me," she whispered back, watching his eyes as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded post-it note she had written previously but didn't have the chance to give it to him. She held it up between her index and middle fingers, but Rossi just raised an eyebrow in question. "It's my address. Remember? You promised to sign my books."

        The senior agent returned her gaze silently before a smile tugged at his mouth; the piece of paper vanished into his pocket. He watched her turn back with the warm feeling of sweet satisfaction swirling in his belly. If his calculations were accurate—and they usually were—there was far more happening in her home than merely him signing those books. And he was perfectly fine with that.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

        THEIR INTERROGATION ON THE OTHER hand, didn't go as easily as expected. Paul Davies' only wish was to make a phone call to his manager because this could only be some kind of misunderstanding. He seemed genuinely surprised by the fact that the girls in the photos Emily showed him were dead, and had no idea why the title of his new album was written on their bodies. Nor did he remember that their latest victim went home with him last night. Bess' calculation that Emily could throw Davies off his game didn't work either, and Reid was more than stunned by this fact. If the guy was schizophrenic, he should have been totally confused by now. Davies wasn't.

        "There's nothing you can do when they lawyer up, Prentiss," Morgan told Emily when she exited the interrogation room with a sour expression, trying to cheer her up a bit.

        They went back to the office they had been working in when Reid got a call from JJ, who had gone to speak with Gina at her house. He quickly summarized what they had so far, and the communication liaison promised to call him back as soon as she gathered some information herself.

        "None of this makes any sense," Morgan muttered with a frown. His mind raced at hundred percent but was unable to find what was wrong with their profile.

        "No," Hotch agreed, then turned to look at Lieutenant Kim as he joined them in the room as well.

        "Television is saying his new record is selling through the roof. All of his stuff is. As soon as him being questioned in an actual string of murders became public."

        Rossi replied with a sigh, "What do they say? Any publicity's good publicity."

        "What are we gonna do with him?" Lieutenant Kim mused.

        Before anyone could answer, Hotch's phone started ringing, prompting him to turn away to answer the call, while Bess said, "Well, he wants to talk to his manager. So, maybe we let him make that call and find out what that guy knows. Can I leave this to you, Prentiss?" She raised an eyebrow at the woman.

        "It's worth a try." Emily shrugged, then left.

        In the meantime, Hotch frowned upon hearing the information the caller had for him. "You sure?" he questioned, then listened some more before ending the call and pocketing his cell.

        "Something?" Rossi asked.

        "It was the lab. The saliva samples from the victims' throats? The DNA's from a woman," Hotch shared the news, earning surprised looks from Bess and the others. That was unexpected.

        Reid was the most shocked of all. "A woman? That's incredibly rare." He shook his head with a frown.

        "But not impossible," Rossi replied, surveying the boy.

        "No, but Renfield's with this type of aggression, it almost never presents this way."

        Morgan stated, "Our profiles have never been this far off, Reid."

        "Then why didn't you do anything about that, hmm? You heard him. It's a rare occurrence. It's not his fault alone that the profile wasn't right," Bess stood up for Reid, feeling that the three men believed they were on the wrong track because the boy had provided them with bad information.

        Morgan's gaze drifted toward Bess. "Don't talk like you know anything about this stuff, Sinclair. You clearly don't," he remarked, throwing her an undermining look.

        Bess couldn't help but laugh as she shook her head. "Go, fuck yourself, Morgan. Maybe that will change the fact that we're holding a man in custody who clearly doesn't know anything about what's happening out there, while the UnSub is still running free. But it's so much easier to blame others than accept you screwed up, right?" Bess scoffed, giving him a disapproving look before glancing down at Reid. "Go back and work it with a woman. See if there's anything we may have missed," she told him in a kinder tone, then turned on her heels and left them behind.

        "You should be more careful, Morgan," Rossi noted as he surveyed the man.

        "Careful? Or what? She'll kick me out? I bet she doesn't even know what the word 'UnSub' stands for. How could she get to lead our team in the first place?" Morgan burst out, shaking his head. "No, you should be the one being careful, Rossi. Don't you think we all see how you try to charm her with your smiles? It's pathetic. But you just can't help yourself, right? You have to bang every woman who looks at you—"

        Rossi cursed in Italian as he lunged forward, determined to punch Morgan in the face. However, before he could do so, Hotch stepped in between the two. "Enough. What are you doing?"

        "Step aside, Hotch," Rossi snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. "Someone needs to wash out their mouth."

        "No. You need to calm down. Both of you." Hotch pushed Rossi back, and then took a step back, making Morgan retreat as well. "We have work to do. Stop acting like damn children," he declared with a hard stare, his gaze moving from one man to the other. "Go on," he barked, and finally, both men walked away in opposite directions, leaving Hotch alone. He shook his head, then set off in a third, not wanting to be around either one.

        While both Morgan and Rossi were licking their wounds, Emily granted Davies access to call up his manager. It didn't give him the expected release though, since the man didn't even let him explain what happened, he just told him not to worry, he would fix this, and hung up on him. It didn't get them any closer to catching whoever was really behind all this.

        In the end, it was Garcia who uncovered the trail leading to their UnSub. She stumbled across a massive trove of fan mail addressed to Davies, and among the countless accounts, one stood out. Gina—Tara's friend—had written several letters herself, each dripping with an obsessive devotion that seemed to stretch ad infinitum. She idolized Dante, transforming him into a vampire god in her mind, and she even stated in a letter that she would kill for him. And overall, she fitted their profile to a tee. What was a bit concerning was that JJ had gone to meet with the woman and become unreachable.

        Wasting no time, the team sped to the address Garcia had sent to their SUVs too, which resembled a storage unit more than a home. Navigating through the chaotic maze of boxes and clutter in the back garden, they finally found JJ with her gun pointed at Gina, who was kneeling over a guy. Davies' manager. Secretly, the man had orchestrated the killings, manipulating Gina's obsessive devotion to Dante to boost record sales and skyrocket his popularity. And he could almost get away with it. Almost...

        All in all, Paul Davies was free to go, and the team could go home.

        "Hey, do you guys think Davies will continue to perform as Dante?" Reid asked as they were on the jet, flying back to Quantico. Bess was sitting beside JJ on one end of the couch, letting the woman lie comfortably on the rest of the furniture as she held a bag of cold water on the top of her head, where the manager had hit her with a shovel.

        "The character's probably responsible for the murder of four women. If he has any conscience at all, Dante died with them," Emily replied, handing a bottle of water to JJ before sitting down in the club suite next to Morgan. "Are you okay?" She gave the blonde woman a worried glance.

        "Yeah. The doctor said it'll be sore for a while, but I'm fine, really."

        Bess sent her a small smile. "You could take some days off if you want to," she offered, but JJ just shook her head.

        "I feel so bad I didn't go with you to interview Gina," Reid muttered, and with the help of Bess, he covered JJ with a blanket. He had enough trouble with his crutches...

        "Spence, stop, all right? We had no way of knowing she was gonna be dangerous. She was just the friend of a victim. Granted, a schizophrenic friend with a sociopathic partner." JJ grimaced.

        "And a shovel," Emily added with a smile.

        "Seriously, Reid, we had no way of knowing that Gina had that type of anger inside of her," Morgan noted, who had clearly thought about his previous outburst at the boy. Maybe they were all flawed, after all.

        It still didn't seem to be enough for the boy. "Yeah, but she was obsessed with Dante. I should have known that that level of fixation can lead to manipulation."

        Hotch replied, "But only when the fixation's coupled with schizophrenia, which we had no way of knowing."

        "Not speaking of how dark obsession can get," Bess muttered, giving Hotch a glance.

        Rossi agreed with a nod. "And with a pop star? I mean, I was obsessed with the Rat Pack, but I wouldn't have killed for Frank or Dean." He grimaced, making Bess and the others laugh.

        Hotch scoffed, "No, you just drank whiskey and smoked cigars."

        "Oh, and this from the man whose favorite record is the Beatles' White Album," Rossi shot back.

        "Hey, that's a good album," Bess chimed in with a smile.

        Hotch looked at her with fresh eyes. "Yeah, and just because Manson hijacked it doesn't have to ruin it for the rest of us."

        "That's why I stick to Beethoven. There's no chance of guilt by association," Reid remarked with his usual tight-lipped smile.

        "Really? Have you ever seen a movie called 'A Clockwork Orange'?" Bess raised an eyebrow at the boy, then chuckled at his expression. He had no idea what she was talking about.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

        BESS WAS ENJOYING A CIGARETTE lying on one of the couches in the living room area of her penthouse when the doorbell rang. She put it down into the ashtray and rose, heading to answer the door. It could be only two people; her father, but he didn't call, narrowing down the options to only one. She opened the door, finding herself face to face with the senior agent, who was holding a red rose in his hand.

        Bess let out an incredulous laugh as she let him in, accepting the rose with a shake of her head. "What's this for?" she questioned, closing the door after Rossi.

        "Seriously, only someone with no sense of manners would show up at a woman's doorstep without flowers," he replied, looking around the place. The first word that came to his mind was opulence. "I guess now it's not that surprising you drive a Boss 429 Mustang." Rossi turned around with a smile, taking in the room.

        The expensive white marble floor glittering under the sharp rays of the ceiling lights, the beige and white leather couches and armchairs surrounding a glass coffee table—in one of them a beautiful white Persian cat was curled up, asleep. The tall white walls, decorated with colorful paintings, and one wall, entirely made of glass, offering a breathtaking view of the city sprawled beneath him like a glittering tapestry.

        He walked up to the kitchen counter, put down the bottle he had been holding in his other hand, then turned around. "Do you think that's a good idea?" Bess asked, noticing the scotch he had brought along for the first time. Rossi just smiled as he watched her walk up to him, her fingers locked around the neck of the bottle, and lifted it to take a closer look. "You get me drunk, so I sleep with you?" She put down the bottle and reached for the lapels of his suit jacket instead, helping him take it off.

        A moment later she was in his arms.

        "Would that be that bad?" Rossi asked, his skin burning under her fingers as she undid his top button, then instead of going lower, her arms folded around his neck. Could she hear his heart throbbing?

        "No. Probably not. I just don't understand why you think you'd need any scotch to get that result," she declared with an eyebrow raised.

        "Actually, I brought that for afterward," Rossi corrected her with a playful frown, making her laugh.

        Bess licked her lips as she nodded. "Good save. Now, tell me. Do you play poker, Rossi?" she asked, the corner of her lips curling up into a challenging smile as her fingers found their way into his hair.

        "Do I play—" He started laughing. "I take that as an offense, Sinclair."

        Bess grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then let's make this interesting. A game, for a prize." She paused, watching his face light up with interest as he waited for her to continue. "If you win, you can stay the night. And I promise, you'll leave satisfied in the morning. But there are rules." Her fingers stopped in his hair, and he was listening to her every word. "No second chances, Rossi. We have sex, and you forget it ever happened. No strings, no feelings. I don't want to break your heart, because I like you. But I will if I have to."

        "And if I lose?"

        She held his gaze, smiling as her fingers continued stroking his hair. "If you lose, then I won't sleep with you, obviously. Instead, you'll come over again another time, and you'll keep coming back until you've taught me everything you know about profiling." She noticed the surprise in his eyes, not that she hadn't expected it. "Morgan was right. I don't know what's needed for this job. But I want to. I want to be better at it. And I want to learn from you. Apparently, the best there is," she added, making him drop his gaze with a smirk.

        He looked back up at her. "And if I say no?"

        "You sign my books, we drink a glass from that scotch, and then you go home as a good boy who chose not to play a game with me," Bess told him, earning a nod in response. That wasn't an option.

        "Alright. But I have to warn you, I'm pretty good at the game." Rossi smiled, and this time Bess was the one laughing.

        She drew him to her lips before he could even react, kissing him deeply until they ran out of breath. "For good luck. You'll need it, handsome," she chuckled, noticing his red ears as his heart rate soared like a bird in the sky.

        The game was on.

author's note

Hey, you guys! How do you feel yourself after this chapter? Not so much going on with Bess and Hotch yet, but that storyline will come soon too! Until then, Rossi tangles the threads a bit🫣

reminder

As a fellow writer, I pour an incredible amount of time and effort into each chapter, so please don't forget to vote and comment while you read! Your support means the world to me and gives me so much inspiration! Don't be just another ghost reader, please! <33