The Darkest Kiss

Chapter 9

I hit the floor hard and lay there for several seconds, my breathing panicked and my heart beating a million miles a minute.

Something had to be terribly wrong with Rhoan for me to be getting this sort of reaction. And yet it didn’t feel like he was in danger. Didn’t feel like he was hurt in any way.

“Riley?” Quinn was suddenly next to me, his hands gliding over me, looking for wounds or hurt when there wasn’t any. “Riley, what’s wrong?”

“Rhoan,” I gasped, somehow pushing to my hands and knees. The dizziness hit again and fear flooded me. God, what was going on? “Something has happened to him.”

Quinn grabbed my waist and hauled me upright. “Can you get dressed? Where’s your phone?”

“Yes, I can, and in my bag.”

He spun and walked into the living room. I staggered to the bathroom and hurriedly put on my clothes. The world spun again and I grabbed the corner of the shower to keep upright. When it eased, I found my shoes then ran out to the living room.

Quinn was on my phone. “There’s no answer from Rhoan, either at the apartment or on his cell phone.”

“He wasn’t at home. He was at Liander’s—” I stopped, and horror ran through me. Oh God, had something happened to Liander?

Please, don’t let it be Liander.

I grabbed the phone from Quinn and quickly dialed Liander’s number. There was no answer and the answering machine didn’t come on. And he always—always—turned that on when he went out.

“We need to get to Liander’s.”

“I’ll get my pants and my keys—”

“I’ll drive—”

“You can’t,” he said, almost savagely, from the other room. Not anger at me, but anger for me. “Not when you’re getting input from whatever it is Rhoan is going through. You’ll be putting your life—and others—at risk.”

Keys rattled as he grabbed them, and then he was beside me again, wearing pants and carrying a jacket, but no shirt. He cupped his hand under my elbow as we walked toward the elevator. As the doors swished closed, I rang the Directorate.

Sal answered. “What now, wolf girl?”

“I need Rhoan’s location immediately.”

“Hang on.” Keys tapped in the background, and the computer beeped. “He’s on the move, heading down Epson Road.”

“What’s the nearest cross street?”

“He’s just turned into Bangalore Road.”

Heading for Liander’s house, not his workshop and loft. “Tell Jack something has happened to Liander. Tell him Rhoan might need restraining.”

“Will do.” She hesitated. “You heading there now?”

“Yes.”

“Be careful, wolf girl.”

“He’s my pack-mate,” I said, and hung up.

The elevator reached the parking area and the doors swung open. Quinn grabbed my arm again, and together we raced toward his Porsche.

“Where’s Liander’s place?” he said, spinning the back wheels as he took off fast.

“Kensington. Enter from Epson Road.”

He nodded and the car’s speed increased. Lights and buildings zipped by, but I didn’t really see any of them. I was too busy worrying.

“Any idea what the problem is?” Quinn asked, after a few minutes.

“Maybe, but I’m hoping to God I’m wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve got a serial killer on the loose, and Liander might just be one of his targets.”

“Again, why?”

I glanced at him. His answers were short and sharp, his concentration on the road and the few cars that were on the road at this hour.

“Because our killer seems to be going after people who once shared a school year with him. We have no real idea why, other than the fact that the killer disappeared after an altercation with some of the kids in that year.”

“And Liander was one of those kids?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t have anything to do with the killer or the kids who apparently did him in.”

“So the killer is a vampire now?”

I hesitated. “Well, he smells like a vampire, but he’s invisible in the daytime and able to walk around in sunlight without harm. And I think he was some sort of shifter before he was turned.”

“No vampire is that immune to sunlight—even the very old ones.”

“Well, he’s not very old, but I chased him out into the street and the bastard didn’t burn.”

“Then he’s not a vampire.”

“What is he, then?”

“He could be a dozen different things.” He hesitated. “The fact that he becomes ghostlike in the daylight makes me lean toward a bhuta.”

“A what?”

“It’s a type of vampire that can come about after someone suffers a violent death. They supposedly don’t live on blood, but rather intestines and excrement, and they have no physical body in daylight. Only at night.”

That description certainly fit what I knew of Young. “They may have no physical body, but they can still pick up things and use them as a weapon in daylight.”

He glanced at me. “You’ve already had an altercation with it?”

“Yeah, it jumped me. I wasn’t expecting an invisible vampire.” I glanced at the window, noting the location and knowing we were almost there. The knowledge didn’t do anything to ease the tension in me. It only increased it. “Do these bhuta die like regular vampires?”

“Only if you catch them at night. They’re impossible to kill during the day.”

Great. Just great. “God, I hope something hasn’t happened to Liander.”

Quinn took one hand from the wheel and reached across to squeeze my knee. His hands were warm against my skin, his touch comforting—even if it didn’t ease the sick fear sitting like a lump in my stomach.

“Liander’s ex-military. He can fight. He’ll be okay.”

I licked my lips and looked away from the caring in his eyes. Not because I didn’t want to see it, but because I was trying to be strong and any sort of understanding and caring right now just might make me cry.

“I’m a guardian,” I said softly, “and this thing almost whipped my ass.”

“Because you weren’t expecting it—”

“Liander mightn’t be, either.” My one hope was the fact that I did warn him to be careful. Please, please, have been careful, Liander.

Quinn swung into Bangalore Road so fast the tires squealed and the smell of burned rubber briefly invaded the car.

“Be careful of the speed bumps,” I said, just a second too late. The car went flying across the first one and came crashing down on its nose.

“Thanks for the warning.” Quinn’s voice was dry, but he didn’t ease the speed perceptibly until we reached the next bump.

God, we were close, so close…part of me wanted to get out and run, to just get there and know. My stomach was tying itself up into knots and sweat was beginning to trickle down my spine. I didn’t think I’d ever been this afraid of anything else in my life.

We rounded the corner and Liander’s street came into view. “Park over there.” I pointed to the parking bays on the right of the road as my gaze traveled down the line of cars there.

Rhoan was already here, and he’d left the car in such a hurry the driver’s door was still open and the keys were in the ignition.

Oh God, oh God…

Quinn pulled in to one of the free parking spots. The car had barely stopped when I scrambled out and ran, the sound of my shoe heels hitting the road surface echoing across the silence of the still-sleeping night.

There were no lights on in Liander’s three-story terrace house, nothing to indicate there was anything wrong. The front door was open, though—and while it wasn’t busted down or damaged in any way, that wasn’t a good sign. Liander was too security conscious to leave it like that. And I doubted Rhoan would have left it open. If the door had been closed when he’d gotten here, he probably would have busted it down in his anxiety to see what the problem was.

I would have if the situation had been reversed.

I ran through the gate and up the steps. Quinn was a warm, dark presence behind me, but as I ran through the doorway, he stopped.

I twisted around to look at him. He grimaced. “Liander’s never invited me in, so I can’t cross the threshold,” he said. “But go find your brother. I’m here if you need anything.”

“How would the bhuta have crossed it? I sure as hell can’t imagine Liander inviting him in.”

“He didn’t need to. Bhutas don’t operate under the restrictions that hamper most vampires.”

“More fucking wonderful news.” I spun and continued on into the darkness.

There was no sound in the house. The scent of roast lamb and spicy vegetables lingered on the air—evidence of the dinner Liander had planned. His scent, soft and masculine, filled the house. Rhoan’s warm spices and leather scent was absent, but I could feel the heat of his presence. He was upstairs.

I grabbed the handrail and began to climb. My footsteps made little sound against the thick carpet, but it wouldn’t matter. Rhoan would know I was here, the same way I knew he was here.

I reached the first floor—the one that held the bedroom. The silence seemed to get thicker, and while the air still held the rich scent of cooking and Liander, something else began to invade it.

Fear.

Blood.

Energy caressed my mind, a tingling of warmth that stirred the fibers of my soul, intimate in a way that went beyond touch, beyond sex. Quinn, pushing lightly at my shields, wanting to talk to me, wanting me to open the psi-door we’d developed as a means of communication.

I dropped several layers of shields and said, Nothing yet. Rhoan’s on the top floor, but I have no idea where Liander is. I hesitated, then added, I can smell blood.

So can I. There’s not a lot of it, though, so that is at least one good thing. But there is only one heartbeat on the top floor. If Rhoan is up there, then it has to be his.

Then where the hell is Liander?

I don’t know. Just be careful. The anger I can feel is fearsome.

He’s my brother, Quinn. He’s not going to hurt me.

Being blood kin doesn’t always protect you. Not when there’s this level of fear involved.

I licked my lips and climbed to the next floor. This one was basically one huge open area that Liander used for an office area, and it was wrapped in darkness just like the lower floors.

And while there was no sound, the smell of anger and fear thickened, and it was all twined up in Rhoan’s leathery scent.

“Rhoan?” I said softly, pausing briefly on the top step and looking around.

“He’s gone. We had an argument, and now he’s gone.”

The voice that rose out of the darkness was a frail shadow of its normal self. Fear lashed at me, thicker and stronger than before.

“What do you mean by gone?” I stepped into the room, then stopped. Moonlight filtered in through the windows at either end of the large room, lending enough brightness to highlight the smashed furniture, scattered paperwork, and the blood splattered across the wall.

Oh God, oh God…

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Liander couldn’t be dead. Rhoan wouldn’t be talking if he were. The shock of a soul mate’s death often left the living partner in a catatonic state—something that Ben had basically confirmed when he talked about the death of his mate.

I took another few steps forward, and finally saw Rhoan. He was kneeling near what used to be Liander’s main desk, though now it was little more than splintered remains. Evidence to the fact that he really had put up a major fight. But he was fighting something far stronger, far faster, than him. Something that didn’t even operate under the normal rules governing vampires.

He’d lost, but he wasn’t dead. That was something to hold on to, something to work with, at least.

I walked closer, and saw that Rhoan was hugging something to his chest. Something that was white, but stained dark in patches. Patches that smelled a whole lot like blood.

No, no, no, I thought, and took a deep shuddery breath to calm the ever-rising fear.

“Rhoan,” I said. “He’s not dead. We need to get out there and find him.”

He finally looked at me. His gray eyes were wide and shocked, filled with a pain that went soul-deep. “He’s hurt. He’s dying.”

“But he’s not dead.” I forced a sharpness into my voice. I needed to get past the shock, the hurt, and the guilt; needed to goad him into action. “Liander wouldn’t be sitting there hugging a bloodied shirt if the situation were reversed. You’re the fucking guardian. Start acting like it!”

He surged to his feet and threw the bloodied shirt at me. “Smell that! Feel it! That’s his blood on the shirt. His fear! Whatever came for him, he couldn’t handle it alone. And he was military-trained.” He shoved a hand through his thick, red hair, then spun away. “I wasn’t here, Riley! I should have been and I wasn’t.”

I caught the shirt one-handed. The blood was thick and sticky to the touch, an indication that it wasn’t very old. And the smell of sweat and fear lingered—telling signs, considering I’d never known Liander to be afraid of any physical threat.

I tossed the shirt on the tipped-over chair and said, “This is no time for recriminations, Rhoan. He’s alive. Let’s start from there and try to find him.”

“I can’t.” The words were torn from him. “I can feel he’s in trouble, I know he’s hurt, but I can’t feel where he is. It’s not like you and me.”

“Then we find him the old-fashioned way—through good old-fashioned detective work.”

“How? We don’t even know who or what did this to him.”

“Actually, we do.”

He swung around to face me, and the sheer fury in his eyes was knee-quaking.

Be careful, Riley. He’s not thinking straight right now and he’s looking for something—or someone—to take his anger out on.

Tell me about it. I held up my hands—a useless gesture if he actually decided to attack. “One of the cases I’m investigating involves what Quinn tells me is a bhuta—a vampire with no physical body in the daytime.”

“What has this got to do with Liander’s disappearance?” His voice was flat and cold, and his eyes had gone from resembling anything human to something that only saw death. Only wanted death.

The look of a guardian. The look of a killer.

I’d only seen it a couple of times, and it certainly wasn’t something I’d ever expected to see aimed my way.

I raised my chin a little and met his gaze defiantly. Perhaps not the best move when facing a wolf on the edge of madness, but I couldn’t afford to back down, either. If he smelled or saw any sort of weakness in his current state, he might just attack anyway.

“I’m not entirely sure how Liander’s involved, but Aron Young—the bhuta in question—seems to be intent on tracking down and killing anyone who was in the same class as him in tenth grade.”

“And Liander was?”

“Yes. I did tell him to be careful, Rhoan, but I really didn’t think he’d be in danger—”

I didn’t get any further and I never even saw the punch. One moment I was standing there, the next I was flying across the room. I hit the wall with enough force to knock a hole into it, then slithered to the floor.

I felt him move: a furious force coming straight at me. Battling stars and the need to throw up, I flung myself sideways, grasping the leg of a nearby shattered chair, then swung with all my might.

The blow hit him just below the left knee. There was an almighty crack as the chair leg broke, but the force of the blow knocked him off his feet and onto his back. I grabbed another chair leg then scrambled to my feet, sniffing back the blood beginning to run from my nose as I jumped onto his stomach, pinning his arms with my knees and thrusting the chair leg under his chin.

“Bitch,” he muttered, his eyes still glazed and furious, his body bucking like a bronco.

“Enough,” I yelled, and pressed the leg a little harder against his neck. He was wheezing, struggling to breathe, but I didn’t let up the pressure. I couldn’t when he was in this frame of mind. He wasn’t even seeing me. He wasn’t seeing anyone or anything except Liander lying bloody and hurt somewhere.

“Rhoan, look at me. This is stupid—we need to find Liander, not fight.”

He still wasn’t listening, too consumed by the grief wrapping around him. He continued to struggle, forcing me to grip tighter with my legs to even stay on top of him.

Blood dripped from my nose, splattering across his face and lips. He licked automatically, and suddenly his movements stopped.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, as the coldness began to seep from his eyes.

“Well, I fucking wonder why?” I swiped at my nose with an arm. “Are you going to hit me again? Or are you finally over your little hissy fit and ready to do something useful?”

“I didn’t mean—” He stopped. We both knew he did mean. “I’m sorry.”

“So you fucking should be.” I tossed the chair leg aside and got up. “You might want to shift shape. I think I did some damage to your leg.”

“Yeah,” he said, wincing as he tried to move it. He shifted shape, lying there in wolf form for several seconds before changing back to human form. He climbed to his feet and grimaced. “Better, but not great.”

I couldn’t feel sorry for him. I might understand why he’d lashed out, but that didn’t mean he was getting any sympathy. Especially when my jaw was aching and my nose was throbbing.

“First things first,” I said. “We need to find the old school photo Liander was going to give me, and check all the names on it. We need to know if it’s just Liander he’s snatched, or whether he’s taken them all.”

“That’s downstairs on the coffee table.” He spun and headed for the stairs. The anger still bubbled in him, thick and strong, but at least it now had direction. “He was showing me before we had our argument.”

I followed him down. “What the hell were you arguing about this time?”

“He wanted to move in with us.”

“So?”

He looked over his shoulder. “You knew?”

“He asked for my permission first.” I raised a hand to my jaw, massaging it lightly. It hurt to talk, but it didn’t feel like anything was broken. Maybe he’d pulled his punch at the last moment. “Don’t tell me that’s what you argued about.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”

“You’re never ready for anything he wants, Rhoan.” I hesitated, then added harshly, “And now you may very well not have to worry about it ever again.”

He stopped and swung around violently. “That’s unfair—”

“No, what you’re doing to him is unfair. He’s your soul mate, Rhoan. Dammit, why won’t you just start treating him like it?”

“Because of this! Because of things like this!”

I looked at him incredulously. “Why has him being kidnapped got anything to do with your relationship?”

“It’s what could happen to him. I’m a guardian—”

“That’s just a fucking excuse, Rhoan, and you know it.”

“How can you say that when you lost Kellen for the very same reason?”

“Kellen left because he didn’t want to sit at home wondering if each night was going to be the night I didn’t come home. Liander’s accepted that possibility and is willing to live with it.”

“But I’m not. If I commit to him, if we do the moon ceremony, and then something happens to me, he dies. And I don’t want that. I couldn’t live with that.”

“Death isn’t always the end result of the moon bond.” Although I had no proof of that. Ben might have survived the death of his soul mate, but they hadn’t sworn their love to the moon. Maybe that was the difference.

“I don’t care.” He spun around and clomped down the stairs. “I refuse to risk full commitment.”

“But he’s not asking you to risk it, Rhoan. He’s just asking to move in with us and become part of our family. Why is that asking too much?”

“It’s a risk—”

“Life itself is a goddamn risk! As Liander being caught by a serial killer proves.”

He muttered something under his breath. I caught the words “bitch” and “ridiculous,” and smiled. “This bitch is going to kick your ass to kingdom come if you don’t start acting sensibly where Liander is concerned.”

He snorted softly and strode across the living room, snatching an old photograph up and thrusting it in my direction. “This is it.”

I took the photo from him and then looked around. “Where’s the phone? My cell’s in the car.”

He pointed to the left, then crossed his arms, his nostrils flaring. “Why is Quinn here?”

“Because I was getting emotional hits from you, and it was shaking me up so badly I couldn’t drive.” I picked up the receiver and dialed Jack’s number.

“I suppose I should be grateful he couldn’t pass the threshold, or my ass would be history.”

“Too right it would be,” Quinn commented calmly from the doorway. “You’re too old to be acting like a petulant child.”

“Christ, first my sister tells me off, then her lover.” He paused. “How come you two are together again? When did that happen?”

“We are not together, as such,” Quinn said. “Not yet, anyway.”

Rhoan raised an eyebrow as he glanced at me. “Funny, because you have his scent all over you, which kinda indicates you have been together.”

“Having sex doesn’t mean we’re together. It just means we were horny,” I answered, then said, as Jack picked up the phone, “Boss, we’ve got problems.”

“Sal told me. You and Rhoan okay?”

“Yeah, we survived the encounter. Rhoan’s thinking a little more clearly now.”

I looked at Rhoan as I said it. He grimaced, and thrust a hand through his hair. His body was still taut with tension, and the smell of his anger and frustration stained the air. He was in control, but only just.

“What about Liander?”

“He’s missing. I think Aron Young might have him.”

“Why? What is his connection to the other men Young has murdered?”

“As far as I can see, the only connection between any of them is the fact they all did tenth grade in the same school as Young. It’s not much.”

“For twisted minds, it often doesn’t have to be. What do you need?”

“I need a trace on a van and the following names. Liander’s not dead yet, so he’s been snatched rather than killed outright. Young knows we’re onto him, so maybe he’s gone for the rest of them, too. Maybe he’s planned on one big killing party.”

“It’s possible. Give me the details.”

I read the names out, then added the plate number the bouncer had given me. “I’m about to head on over to Vinny’s. She tasted him, and I’m sure knows more than what she’s saying. I think it’s about time she anted up.”

“Just be careful,” he warned. “Emos don’t have to be touching to suck emotion from you. She and her crew can drain from a distance if they wish.”

“She wouldn’t want to try it on Rhoan right now. Trust me on that.”

“I can imagine.” His voice was dry. “You sure you two are unscathed?”

“We can walk, we can talk, and we can certainly throw a punch or two. We’re fine.”

“Good. I’ll contact you as soon as we have any info.”

“Thanks, boss.”

I hung up.

“So who is this Vinny?” Rhoan said.

“An emo vamp who has set up camp in one of the abandoned government housing towers. I mentioned her before, remember?”

“No.” He frowned. “When?”

“After the premiere—when you and Liander came home pissed.”

Darkness ran across his face, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yeah, I remember. Let’s go see this Vinny, so that there is a next time.”

I gave him a hug, and his arms wrapped around my waist, holding on to me briefly. I could smell the fear on him, smell the pain. Feel the quivering in his limbs that was a mix of anger and the need to hit out, to hurt those responsible.

Vinny had better not try anything on my brother.

I pulled back. “Quinn should drive, in case you get any more hits from Liander.”

He nodded and thrust a hand through his hair again. “It’s gone quiet on that front.”

“He’s okay, Rhoan. You’d know if it were otherwise.” I turned and headed for the door, so he couldn’t see the worry in my eyes. Him getting nothing from Liander was not a good sign.

It meant he was getting weaker, that the link between them was fading.

He couldn’t die. God, fate, and whatever else might be up there watching—please don’t let him die.

Quinn was no longer at the door. I led the way down the street, following his scent, and heard an engine start up. Rhoan’s car, not Quinn’s. There was more room in my brother’s car.

Quinn reversed out of the parking spot then stopped to let us in.

“Where to?” he asked, glancing at me as I climbed into the front. His eyes were alight with anger and concern, and just a hint of hunger. He might have fed off me earlier, but the smell of blood was on me, and it was teasing his vampire senses to life.

I gave him the address, then sniffed back the blood still running from my nose. “Sorry,” I said, when I could.

He shrugged and shoved the car into gear, taking off so fast the tires squealed. “I am old enough to control my hunger, Riley. And there isn’t that much blood.” He glanced at the rearview mirror. “Though there deserves to be.”

“Try losing someone you love and see how you react,” Rhoan retorted.

“I have. And people died because of it. My point, however, is that Liander is not dead, and you should not be acting like he is.”

“For fuck’s sake, did you have to bring him along?”

For all the annoyance in Rhoan’s voice, Quinn’s gentle chastisement seemed to have some effect. The scent of fear retreated a little, and the anger and determination came to the fore. Hopefully, it would sustain him through whatever the next few hours had to offer.

Hopefully, those hours wouldn’t contain death. Not Liander’s death, anyway.

We sped through the darkened streets at breakneck speed, Quinn’s sharp reflexes getting us through red lights and what traffic there was with equal ease.

The shattered sides of the old government housing block came into sight. Spots of light gleamed here and there, but mostly the building was dark. My gaze was drawn to the top floor. No lights shone there. But then, Vinny’s room had been draped in heavy velvet and it was unlikely light would show anyway.

Quinn drove over the footpath and right up to the main doors. When he stopped the car, we climbed out. The scent of vampire spun through the air, thick and cloying.

“There’s a lot of them in there,” Quinn said, distaste touching his expression as his gaze swept the building.

“At least forty,” I commented.

“How in the hell can one vamp control forty fledglings?” Rhoan asked in disbelief.

“She’s not a blood vamp.” I pushed through the shattered front doors. Footsteps scattered and the slight taste of fear touched the air. I glanced at Quinn as I began to climb. “Why are they retreating? They didn’t last time I was here.”

His smile was decidedly dark. “Last time you were here, you weren’t accompanied by one of the old ones.”

“They can tell what you are?”

“No. I’m letting them know what I am. Trust me, in an emo’s nest, it’s always better to advance warn what sort of trouble they’ll be getting into should they try any tricks.”

Rhoan frowned. “What sort of tricks are emos likely to get up to that would be different from a blood vampire?”

Quinn glanced at him. “They feed off emotion. Therefore it is to their benefit to amp it up where possible.”

“Ah.” Rhoan considered this for a moment, then said, “So my anger and fear for Liander is something she’d likely play with?”

“Most likely. If she doesn’t take heed of the warning.”

I glanced back at him. “Is that warning going out telepathically?”

He nodded. “And emotionally. I’m empathic, remember.”

He was also something else entirely—something that wasn’t just vampire. Though his mother had been human, his father came from a race known only as the priests of Aedh—beings who were more energy than flesh, and who were seen by humans as being tall, golden, and winged. They were, in fact, the race that had apparently instigated the legends of angels. I didn’t know a whole lot more than that, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the skills inherited from his father were coming into play, as well.

After all, Vinny didn’t seem the type to be scared by the presence of an old one—but an old one who was something that no longer existed in anything other than myth? Yeah, that would shake her overly confident little world.

We reached the top floor. A different girl guarded the door, but like the previous girl, she was dressed casually and again had a suspicious bulge on her right hip. Unlike the previous guard, this girl also looked worried.

“We’re here to see Vinny,” I said, stopping little more than a foot away from her. Her scent was orangey, but underneath it ran fear.

Not of me, not of Rhoan. Of Quinn.

She licked her lips and said, “Vinny is rather busy—”

“If Vinny doesn’t want a busted door, you had better open it,” I said.

Her gaze went blank for a moment, then she said, her voice several octaves lower than it had been moments ago, “The old one stays outside.”

“The old one will rip this place apart if you do not open this door, Vincenta.” Though Quinn’s voice was still decidedly mild, there was a hint of steel underneath that was warning enough to anyone with sense.

Vinny had sense.

The guard stepped back and opened the door. Quinn held out his hand and said, “Give me the gun.”

The note of command was in his voice and the girl obeyed without question. Quinn pocketed the weapon, then waved us on.

Rhoan went through the door first. I followed, my gaze sweeping past the velvet lushness to come to rest on Vinny’s cozy little setup at the far end of the room. Like before, she was attended by several toga-clad teenagers but, unlike before, their tension was something I could taste. There was no caressing, no languid eyes or secretive little smiles.

How many weapons did they have hidden under their outfits? More than a few, I suspected.

“I do not appreciate my home being invaded like this,” Vinny said, her voice as frosty as her expression. Her gaze barely even touched me or Rhoan, but rather centered on the man who walked behind me. “It is outside vampire custom, as you well know, old one.”

“Vampire custom is adjustable according to the circumstances,” Quinn replied, voice dry. “A fact you’ll learn if you live long enough. Which is a debatable event at the present moment.”

The air filled with sudden murmuring, and the anger of many different minds seemed to lash at my senses.

“Is that a threat, vampire?” Her voice was soft. Deadly.

Quinn merely smiled. “Simply a fact, Vincenta. I am not, however, the one you have to fear in this little trio. Though I can be, if you wish it.”

Her gaze flicked to Rhoan and myself, seemingly dismissing Quinn for the moment. “Why are you here uninvited, wolf? Have you caught the bastard who murdered Ivan yet?”

“No, but we will. Because you’re going to tell us everything you know about him.”

She smiled and leaned back in her chaise lounge. “You know the cost of information.”

I didn’t get a chance to answer. Rhoan simply stepped forward, wrapped a hand around her pale neck, then yanked her off the lounge and into the air.

The toga-clad vamps behind the chair blurred into action, some leaping across the leather lounge at Rhoan, others whipping out weapons.

I didn’t move. I didn’t have to.

Rhoan casually battered away the two that attacked him, then swung the dangling Vinny in their direction. “Shoot, and she dies. Move, and she dies.”

“You can’t—” Vinny’s voice was hoarse and, while vampires didn’t actually need to breathe, her face was going an interesting shade of red.

“Oh, I can,” Rhoan said, voice all calm iciness. The voice of the killer, not my brother. “We guardians have the power to kill pests on sight. The question that has to be answered now is whether you’re a pest or not.”

“I can’t—” She stopped, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

I glanced at Quinn, and opened the link between us. Is she faking it?

His amusement rolled down the psychic lines. Hell, yeah. She could win an Academy Award with this performance.

One of the toga-clad teenagers shifted slightly. Energy whispered down the link, a mere echo of the power that Quinn flung across the room at the kid who had moved.

“Stop,” he said, voice holding the steel of command. The kid froze and his eyes went wide. As wide as his mistress’s suddenly were.

“And drop that weapon,” Quinn continued. “All of you, drop your weapons.”

Weapons clattered to the floor. Every kid had at least two.

“Kick them under the chaise lounge, out of reach.”

They did so. I glanced at Vinny. For the first time, there was fear in her eyes.

“Ready to be a help rather than a hindrance?” Rhoan asked softly.

She nodded. Rhoan lowered her back to the ground and eased his grip on her neck. “Now, be pleasant and answer Riley’s questions.”

Vinny licked her lips, then said, “What do you want to know?”

“Why is Aron Young kidnapping and murdering those who were in tenth grade with him?”

“As I told you before, he seeks vengeance for his death.”

“Why now, though? Why not in the years immediately after his death?”

“Because he was unable to get out before now.”

So he had been kept prisoner by his parents. “How did he get out?”

“His mother—she was sick. Her heart or something. She let him out.”

And then she’d died, and he’d buried her rather than let her rot where she lay. I guess even evil bhutas had one soft spot. “Tell me where he is.”

“I gave you an address—”

“One address,” I cut in sharply. “Vampires intent on foul deeds always have more than one hidey-hole.”

I’d learned that the hard way.

Amusement flitted briefly through her eyes. “That is true. I cannot, however, give you that information, because I do not have it.”

Shit. I was so hoping that Vinny would give us the easy answers, but I guess I should have known better. Fate was never one for giving me the quick way out.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about him? Anything that might help us find him?”

She considered me for a moment, then said, “Try his home. I tasted memories of it in his thoughts.”

“We have people in his home. He’s not there.”

“Which home, though? I do not speak of the home after his death, but rather the home when he lived. The place where it all started.”

Beechworth. But how would he get that many people up there, let alone keep them contained? Beechworth was a good three-hour drive from Melbourne. There were eighteen teenagers in that school photo, which meant there could still be fifteen on Aron’s hit list. That was a whole lot of people to hunt down. A whole lot of people to control.

And then I remembered the plate number I’d gotten from Ron Cowden. Young owned a van, and that could certainly carry a number of people.

“Let her go, Rhoan.”

He glanced at me. “We got everything we need?”

“I think so.”

He released her and stepped back. Vinny retreated to the safety of her chair, but her toga-clad fledglings didn’t move to comfort or caress her. Quinn was still holding them immobile.

The scary thing was, it didn’t even seem to be much of an effort.

“You are no longer welcome here,” Vinny said, her gaze sweeping us and her eyes dark with anger. “Please leave.”

I turned and followed Rhoan and Quinn toward the door. But as I neared it, Vinny added, “I could have been a powerful ally, Riley. It is a shame you have chosen the other path.”

I turned to face her. “I have shared wine with old ones and dark gods. A young emo vamp is a long way down the ladder of the things I fear.”

She smiled her cold smile. “It is good to know even guardians get things wrong.”

“Oh, I get lots of things wrong, but there’s one thing you should always remember.” I met her cold gaze with one of my own, and saw something flicker through the brown depths. Just what that was, I couldn’t say, though it wasn’t fear. That scent had not been one she could claim through this whole event, even though it had been in her eyes. Which made me wonder if even that had been nothing more than an act. “I always bring down my enemies, Vinny. And you might want to consider whether you really want to be that.”

And with that, I turned and walked out the door.