The Darkest Kiss

Chapter 5

No one bothered coming out, but the scramble of tiny claws against polished floors suggested our quarry had most definitely heard me. I ran down the hallway, following the sound of fleeing steps, trying to ignore the growing scent of death to concentrate on the smell of cat.

Hoping all the while she ran straight out the back door and into Kade’s waiting arms.

The hallway ran the length of the long house, and finished in an open-plan kitchen-living area. Windows lined the rear wall, letting the sunlight stream in and lending the white room a warmth it wouldn’t have had otherwise. I couldn’t see Kade in the garden beyond those windows, but I knew he’d be near, waiting and ready.

I scanned the room, looking for the cat, and saw the flick of a black tail just before it disappeared through another doorway. I ran after it, heard a creaking noise and a soft thump, and got there in time to see the small window in the laundry room closing. A second later I barreled into the washing machine, leaving a huge dent in the pristine metal front. It didn’t do my knees a whole lot of good, either.

I cursed, but scrambled—well, limped—to the back door and flung it open.

Kade was little more than a warm red and black blur as he leapt the fence into the neighbor’s yard. I shifted shape again and followed, my belly barely clearing the top of the wooden palings.

Kade was nowhere in sight. I sniffed the air, finding both his scent and the cat’s, and ran after them—across an overgrown back lawn and over another fence. Kade was standing in the middle of the next yard, his hands on his hips and his expression one of frustration.

A second later I understood why. The scent of cat had multiplied and the scent we were chasing wasn’t strong enough to stand out amongst the other half-dozen cat scents now staining the air and the ground. I swore internally and nosed around, hoping against hope to catch the trail again. Instead, I found a white cat and a tabby, neither of whom were pleased to see me—a fact demonstrated by the way they hunkered down and hissed their little hearts out. I kept out of the way of their sharp claws and continued on, searching through the small garden bed and behind the old shed, but couldn’t find anything.

I shifted back to human form. “Fuck, we’ve lost her.”

“So it appears.” Kade ran a hand through his sweaty dark hair. “I didn’t even see her well enough to stop her kinetically.”

I frowned. “She must have been moving fast if you couldn’t freeze her. You can generally freeze vamps when they’re blurring, can’t you?”

“Yeah, but the trail of their emotions usually gives them away. I was getting nothing from her.” He glanced at me. “Did you catch a glimpse of her?”

“Yeah. Her animal form is black, but she can obviously shift the size of her cat, because what we were chasing is not what killed that man in the shop window. Cole reckons her hands were at least tiger-size.”

Kade frowned. “I didn’t think it was possible for shifters or weres to alter the size of their beast, let alone partially shift.”

“Well, up until recently, I didn’t think there was a wolf pack who could alter their human form, either, so who knows what else is out there?” I shrugged and adjusted my bra. Luckily, I’d gone for one that was Lycra rather than lace this morning, and as a result it had come through the shapeshifts in wearable condition. Which meant I’d definitely have to buy more for work situations. Running around with a bra on was infinitely better than running around without. “We better get back and check what—or who—is dead in that house.”

“Our shifter is obviously killing these women to assume their identities, which means she probably looks a lot like them to begin with.”

“Not necessarily. Maybe she can alter her human shape as well as her animal. After all, her cat is black, and yet the witnesses said she was blonde.” I shrugged and clambered back over the fence. “Or maybe she’s not even a shifter to begin with. Maybe she’s something else entirely.”

“But what else is there that can shift?”

“Who knows?” But if the spirit of an ancient god of death could be called into this time to create havoc once again, there was no saying what else was out there.

Or what else could be called into being.

A chill ran across my skin and I rubbed my arms. Kade must have caught the movement, because he retrieved my sweater and tossed it to me. I pulled it on gratefully, then caught my coat. Wearing it didn’t seem to ease the chill, though.

Our footsteps echoed through the silent house as we made our way back up the corridor. The death scent was coming from the first room, and my steps slowed as we approached. I’d seen a lot of bloodshed and killing over the last year—had even done my fair share of it—but it never seemed to get any easier to confront.

I hoped it never did.

I hoped the part of me that mourned the wanton destruction of innocent lives haunted my days—and nights—for as long as I remained in this job. Because it meant that I wasn’t becoming my brother, wasn’t becoming the unthinking killing machine that he could sometimes be, and that Jack wanted me to be.

We stepped into the room. A large bed dominated the small space. Like the rest of the house, everything was white—only here, the brightness was alleviated by dark red patches that adorned the walls, the bedspread, and the carpet near the bed.

Like the woman I’d found yesterday, this woman was lying half-undressed, slumped across the bed. Her lacy bra dangled from the stump of her shoulder, and her torso was crisscrossed with bloody gashes. Gashes made with claws bigger than your average black house cat.

“Christ,” Kade said. “The press are going to love this. First James, then his lover, and now another member of Toorak’s finest.”

“The press won’t get anywhere near the story if Jack has anything to do with it. He’ll keep them focused on James.”

“Press have a nose for these things.”

“And Jack’s had plenty of experience restraining them.”

He grunted, but whether that was agreement or not was anyone’s guess.

“She hasn’t been dead all that long.” He stopped near the body and looked down at her. “Why would the cat come back to this house when she’d already used the woman’s face and knew she’d been seen?”

I shrugged. “Given that we’re probably not dealing with a rational mind here, maybe she simply didn’t think we’d trace her so easily.”

I stopped beside him. Unlike her body, the woman’s face was untouched, but the terror of her ordeal seemed frozen on her features. My gaze fell to her mouth, and I frowned.

“Is that lipstick?” I leaned closer to have a look. The odor of death and new decay overrode the metallic scent of blood, but the scent of cat and that vague, orange and jasmine aroma was present as well.

“Where?” Kade said.

I pointed a finger to the smear of red across the woman’s top lip. “It looks like someone wearing lipstick has been kissing her. The shoe guy had the same color on his lips.”

“So she kissed this woman before she killed her, then stole her identity and killed the shoe guy. Maybe we are dealing with a soul-sucker of some kind.” He studied her mouth for a second longer, then stepped back and looked around. “There’s an awful lot of fear lingering in this room. Fear and anger.”

“Anger?” I raised an eyebrow. “Same source, or different?”

“The anger is older. Deeper.” He frowned. “When I sensed it in James’s office, it felt ancient and powerful. Now it feels even more so.”

I’m glad he was feeling something, because I wasn’t. And really, that was beginning to bug me. Four murders, and not one soul left hanging about afterward? Granted, the woman I’d found yesterday had been dead for so long her soul was unlikely to be still here, but with the other three, I should have sensed something. Hell, I might have wished more than once to go to a murder scene and not sense the dead, but the reality of its happening was prickling my radar. Something was very off-kilter.

And, at least with these cat killings, it really did suggest that we were dealing with some sort of soul-sucker.

Goose bumps fled across my skin. I resisted the urge to rub my arms and said, “So our murderer is somehow gaining power every time she kills?”

“That would be my guess, yes.” His gaze met mine. “Which means we have to catch her soon, before she grows too powerful.”

“If we can bring down a god of death, we can bring down this thing. Whatever she is.” But I wished I sounded a little more confident. “What I don’t get is why she’s marking her victims first. I mean, why bother with three tiny slashes if she’s going to cut them up so badly or rip off an arm? And why would she do that to this woman and the shoe guy, and not to James and the first female victim?”

“Maybe it was some sort of test that developed into something more violent.” His gaze raked the woman’s body, and distaste flicked through his warm eyes. “And she didn’t only claw here. She’s nibbled.”

My stomach did an odd sort of flip-flop. “What?”

“Here.” He pointed to a small area near the woman’s left breast. The skin had been torn open, and globules of fat and flesh were evident. “Those aren’t claw marks around the wound. That’s teeth.”

“Why on earth would she be eating the flesh now when she didn’t before?”

“What better way to induce fear than to actually eat bits of your victim?” He shrugged. “She seems to be getting more violent with each murder, so perhaps this is all part of the escalation.”

I shuddered at the thought. I didn’t want to think about the mess her victims would be in if we didn’t stop her soon. “If that is a bite wound, then she was wearing a smaller form. And no one—not even a human—is going to stand around and let a cat nibble on their flesh. Besides, the woman was in the process of dressing—it would have been hard for the cat to sneak in a bite before the woman reacted.”

“We don’t know what other skills she has, besides her ability to shift her shape and size.”

That was true. I glanced at my watch and swore softly. I was late for my coffee appointment with Ben. “Look, I have to go chat to a man about another murdering psycho. You want to call in a cleanup team on this one?”

He nodded. “I’ll go talk to James’s secretary after that, see if he was the connection to the two women.”

“Even if he was, how would they all be connected to the shoe guy?” It was easy enough imagining the women buying shoes there, but I highly doubt James was the type to be running around in high heels.

“With politicians you never really know.” He reached across and flicked my nose lightly. “It’s nice working with you, even if we can’t have sex.”

I grinned. “Ditto. Just be careful that cat doesn’t come back and decide to make a meal out of you, too.”

His warm brown eyes twinkled with sudden mischief. “Wouldn’t be the first time a woman has decided to eat me.”

“Yeah, but this one is taking more than a pound of flesh with her. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.”

“No, and neither would my mares.”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying for a reflective tone rather than amused, but missing horribly. “I bet Sable is so far into her pregnancy she’s now cursing your pound or two of flesh and hoping it’ll disappear for quite a while.”

“No doubt about it,” he said with a smile. “But when she comes into heat again, it’ll be a different story.”

“She’s not a baby machine, you know.”

“She’s a mare. That’s what they do.”

So much for the enlightened world of horse-shifters. I shook my head and left.

Thanks to morning traffic, it took me close to thirty minutes to get to Lygon Street. Parking was as difficult to find as ever, so by the time I entered Chiquita’s, I was a good fifteen minutes late. The café was cozy rather than flashy in design, full of intimate tables and seating that wrapped around you and lent a feeling of privacy. Down at the far end of the room was one of those fire-places that looked like logs but was actually gas, and the air was warm enough to almost instantly snatch the chill from my skin.

I didn’t see Ben straightaway, but a moment later he stood and waved. I couldn’t help the smile that touched my lips. Damn he looked good.

He’d dressed in blue jeans that molded around his strong legs and highlighted the sharp definition of muscles. The sleeves of his red shirt had been casually rolled to his elbows, and emphasized not only the width of his shoulders but the rich blackness of his skin.

He smiled when our gazes met, his white teeth flashing brightly in the gloom. My hormones did several excited skips. I might have been off the casual bandwagon for several months now, but this man had me reconsidering my options.

Or maybe I was simply ready to get back into the hunt again. I might not be over the hurt of watching Kellen walk away, but the break had at least given my bruised heart time to mend a little.

Maybe I was ready to play again, even if I had no intention of taking it further than that for a while.

Of course, knowing fate’s sick sense of humor, she’d probably consider that now would be the perfect time to fling my soul mate into the equation.

If he hadn’t already walked away, a little voice whispered.

I shoved that thought back into the box where it belonged, and let a smile of appreciation play about my lips.

“You’re looking nice this morning,” I said, dropping my purse onto the seat before rising onto tiptoes to kiss the side of his cheek. His skin felt good under my lips—warm and slightly roughened with whisker growth—and the taste of him was musky. It was tempting, so tempting, to keep on kissing and tasting, but that wasn’t what I’d come here for. No matter what my hormones were suddenly thinking.

“And you’re looking a little ragged around the edges.” With his warm hands on either shoulder, he stood back a little and studied me critically. “Had a rough morning, huh?”

“Yeah, and the bitch got away.” I pulled back from his light grip and slid down onto the bench. The skin still tingled from the heat of his touch, and part of me wished that I could feel that warmth elsewhere.

I crossed my arms on the table and tried to remain businesslike. “So, is Jilli working today?”

He nodded. “She’ll come out and talk to us during her morning tea break.” He paused and glanced at his watch. “Which is in another ten minutes.”

“Then we’d better order some coffee.” I picked up the menu and scanned through it, though I’d made up my mind before I even walked through the door. “And I hope your pockets stretch to cake. Chasing crazy bad people always makes me hungry.”

“Anything the lady wants, the lady can have.”

I looked up from the menu, saw the cheeky twinkle in his blue eyes, and smiled. “I thought you didn’t do sex on the first date?”

“I don’t. But if I take you out to dinner tonight, that would be a second date. Therefore, all bets are off.”

I raised an eyebrow as the smile teasing my lips grew stronger. “And who said anything about wanting to have dinner with you? We haven’t even experienced coffee together yet. It might all end disastrously.”

He laughed. It was a warm, rich sound that overran the babble of noise and had those nearest to us briefly looking our way. “Wolf, you want me as much as I want you.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll take you.”

He studied me for a moment, his smile fading just a little. Then he leaned across the table, took the menu out of my grasp, and wrapped his large hands around mine. “Someone has really hurt you, haven’t they?”

Tears stung my eyes. I looked away, blinking furiously. After all this time, it shouldn’t still hurt this much, should it? “We hurt each other. In the end, he chose the best option for him. I can’t say I blame him.”

“He couldn’t have been a soul mate, then.”

I met his gaze again. His dark features were full of a compassion that was surprising considering he was basically a complete stranger. But maybe he’d been in a similar situation.

I shrugged. “Our relationship had only just begun, but love was definitely part of the equation. It could have developed into more.”

He was shaking his head before I’d even finished. “It might have been love—it might have even been a deep love—but it couldn’t have been soul mate deep. Trust me on that.”

“You say that with such certainty. Why?”

Something akin to grief—but deeper, darker—briefly twisted his features. He didn’t immediately say anything, and for several minutes, the noise of the café flowed around us as he struggled with inner demons.

“Because I found my soul mate ten years ago.” His voice was soft, matter-of-fact, cutting oddly through the shock that ran through me. He could have been talking about a football match rather than the one event every wolf lived for.

But if he had a soul mate, then he wouldn’t be sitting here propositioning me.

Would he?

After all, having found his soul mate had never stopped Rhoan.

My gaze went to his. There in his eyes was a torment and suffering so deep it beat to death anything I’d ever felt in my entire life.

He smiled—a twisted smile that made something deep inside me ache—then added, “I lost her four years ago.”

Again, shock ran through me. The soul-mate bond was unshakable and unbreakable. In many ways, it was similar to the bond of a twin. I knew when Rhoan was sick, or in trouble, or hurt. I mightn’t be able to read his mind, but I knew him, understood him, and probably better than I knew or understood myself. The soul bond was like that—only deeper. Much deeper.

To lose a soul mate was to lose part of yourself.

“Had you sworn your love to the moon?”

Because if they had, it was even more amazing that he was sitting here sane and whole. I’d always heard—always believed—that in a moon-sworn bond, the death of one partner meant the death of the other. That one could not survive as a whole without the other. If they did…madness was the end result.

Ben looked remarkably sane for a wolf who had lost his heart and his soul.

“We never performed the moon ceremony, simply because of the job. We both wanted to get out of the business, but to do that, we needed money. And to get money, we had to work.”

“And neither of you could do anything else?”

He grimaced. “Nothing else paid as well.”

I shifted my hands and squeezed his fingers lightly. As comforting gestures went, it was pretty poor, but then, what else was there? This man had lost his soul mate. There were no words, no actions, that could ever provide enough comfort after such a horrendous event.

“How did she die?”

His lips twisted. “A car accident. A stupid, fucking car accident. And no one’s fault but the weather’s.”

“I’m sorry—” The words were out before I could retract them. They were stupid words, really, because they had no meaning when we were strangers and I hadn’t even known his mate. So I added, “I’m sorry we got onto this subject. I’m sorry I made you remember—”

As if he would ever forget.

“Hey, I brought the topic up, not you.” He shrugged, and it was almost as if he were shrugging away the cloak of his woes, putting it away for another day. I wondered how long it had actually taken to gain such control over the ache. “And to answer your original question, no wolf can walk away from a soul mate. It’d be like ripping out your heart and flinging it away—you can’t survive if you do it.”

“And yet you survived her death.”

His laugh was bittersweet. “Yeah, I did. But only thanks to my ever-loving, goddamn nagging sister.”

I raised my eyebrows. “How did your sister save you?”

“She refused to let me die.” He shrugged. “Our pack is a small one, and the two of us were always close. I think that bond is the only reason I’m alive today.”

I studied him for a moment, then asked, “So you did try to die?”

“Of course. My heart and my soul had left me. It didn’t matter that we hadn’t sworn our love to the moon—she was my world. My reason for living. Without her—” He shrugged, and gave me that heartbreaking smile again. “Except my sister wasn’t about to let me go so easily.”

They had to have one hell of a strong relationship for her to be able to drag him back from the brink of death. I very much doubted the normal bond of siblings would have done so.

God, if something ever happened to Liander, would Rhoan choose death? We had a strong bond—a bond as strong as life itself—but I really didn’t know if that would be enough to pull my brother back. No matter how badly he sometimes treated his mate, Rhoan loved Liander with every fiber of his being.

I licked my lips and said, “So you’re still close to your sister?”

“She nagged me back to life. How could I walk away after something like that?”

The waitress arrived, and we ordered our coffee and cake. I glanced at my watch, wondering when Jilli was going to come out. Jack would get less than pleasant if I stayed and chatted for too long—especially when we had a badass running around killing humans.

“This wolf that walked away,” Ben asked, after a moment, “what made you think he was your soul mate?”

I shrugged. “It was probably wishful thinking more than anything else. I cared for him—cared for him a lot—but we never really got it together enough to see if it could ever be more.”

“And when you made love?”

I raised an eyebrow, amusement teasing my lips. “When we made love, a good time was had by all.”

Amusement twitched Ben’s lush mouth. “That goes without saying for a wolf.”

“Then why ask the question?”

His grin was as sexy as hell and my hormones did another little dance. And really, I couldn’t be sorry that my self-imposed exile from sex seemed to be coming to an end. I might still hurt, but what was the point in continuing to abstain from something that was so much a part of who I was?

I might not be ready to step out with my heart on my sleeve, but a good time was definitely beginning to hit my agenda once again.

“What I mean by that question,” he said, “is what did you feel deep down? Besides arousal, besides desire?”

I’d felt lots of things when I was with Kellen, and some of those feelings had not been entirely my own. Quinn, I’d discovered, had found a way to use the sensual, sexy dreams we’d shared as a path into my deeper thoughts, placing a compulsion deep within to avoid the things he disapproved of. Like the wolf clubs. And Kellen.

“What I was feeling often depended on how I was feeling about our relationship at the time, or what else was happening in my life. Why do you want to know?”

“Because the first time I made love to Jodie, I knew she was the one. My heart, my soul, my life. We were inseparable from that moment.”

I raised my eyebrows. I’d never felt that with anyone. Not even Quinn. “So it was love at first sight?”

He laughed, a warm rich sound that sent tingles of desire scooting across my flesh. “God, no. Quite the opposite, in fact. We worked with each other for six months and never got an inkling. And our first kiss was nothing more than the polite kiss colleagues share at Christmas. It wasn’t until we actually had sex that things changed.”

So did that mean the whole meeting-of-eyes-across-the-crowded-room moment I’d been dreaming of half my life was just that? A dream? Or was it simply a matter of different wolves, different situations?

I had to hope so. Fate had snatched away so many of my dreams of late that it would really hurt to lose that one as well.

I crossed my arms and leaned forward a little. His gaze flicked downward, caressing my breasts, and the heat of his desire flicked around me. My nostrils flared as I sucked in the scent, feeling it swirl its way through me. It was nice, so nice, after such a long absence. “So what was it like? That first moment, I mean.”

“Well, there was no chorus of angels singing, if that’s what you were expecting.”

I grinned. “In this day and age, I think angels have better things to do than hang around chorusing while people mash body parts.”

Amusement flirted with his mouth again. “It was more a feeling of belonging and completeness. From the moment that we made love, I could think of no other, wanted no other.”

I definitely hadn’t felt that with Kellen. Or Quinn, for that matter, even though there’d been a connection—a deep connection—between us. One that was richer and stronger than I could ever possibly explain. But did that validate my feelings that he wasn’t the one? The fact that I’d walked away—or rather, sent him away—seemed to confirm that possibility. Not to mention the fact that even when we were together, I’d also had other partners. Much to his disgust, for sure, but still…

“It wasn’t like that with us,” I said eventually. “But I was hoping it was something we’d grow into.”

“You don’t grow into a soul mate,” he said, the amusement on his lips clear in his voice. “It’s just something that is. Or isn’t.”

“Trust me, nothing is that simple in my life.”

“Love is.”

“For you, maybe.” I thanked the waitress as she brought over our order, then began tucking in to the thick, gooey chocolate cake. Which wasn’t as delicious as the scent coming from the big wolf sitting opposite me, but still more than lived up to the standards of this place.

“So how does the whole sex and dating bit work for you now?” I asked.

He shrugged. “There will always be an emptiness deep inside, one that no amount of lovemaking will ever fill. But I’m a werewolf, and sex is still damned good.” He gave me a grin that was so sexy my insides just about melted. “I can demonstrate just how good, if you’d like.”

“You know,” I said, glad my voice sounded dry rather than husky with the excitement that was buzzing around my insides, “as much as I enjoy a bit of exhibitionism, this is a little too public for me.”

He laughed—a rich and luscious sound. “Well, I didn’t mean right here and now.”

“I’m glad.” Time, I thought, to change the subject. “Have you heard from Ivan?”

He took a sip of coffee, then said, “Yeah. He checked himself out of hospital this morning.”

I frowned. “Was that wise? That vamp’s still out there and Ivan might still be a target.”

“He seems to think that the worst is over.” Ben shrugged. “He said Vinny will keep him safe.”

I snorted. “Vinny sold him out the first time. Why wouldn’t she do it again?”

“He believes she values him too much to give the vamp access again.”

“If he believes that, he’s an idiot.” Vinny was hungry for both power and wealth, and I didn’t think she was particularly fussy about how she got either.

He shrugged, then looked past me. “Ah, here she comes.”

I twisted around. The woman approaching was typically wolf in build, but given she probably stood at five one, she was definitely on the small side. But she exuded a sense of authority and her brown eyes had a no-nonsense gleam to them.

She kissed Ben lightly on the cheek then her gaze came to me. “Riley Jenson, I presume?”

I nodded and fetched my badge out of my purse to show her. “Ben’s requested my help in finding out why your lover Denny died.”

“Yes, he told me that.”

There was a brief flicker in her eyes, one that hinted at sorrow. Then it was gone, replaced by the no-nonsense gleam. Jilli might be sad about her lover’s death, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her from going about her daily business. Jack would have loved her attitude.

“Tell me, do you know if he had any vampire lovers?”

Little frown lines briefly creased her otherwise smooth forehead. “Not that I knew of. But we’d only been lovers for a few weeks.”

“What about clubs? Which of those did he frequent?”

“All of them. Particularly the underground ones.”

I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Ben. “There are still underground wolf clubs?”

“For people who have similar sexual needs to Denny. Such things are generally not authorized at the legal clubs.”

Meaning they weren’t places I’d want to frequent—though I would, if it meant getting answers. I glanced back to Jilli. “When did you and Denny last have sex?”

“The night he died.”

“So it was you I smelled on the sheets?” My gaze went to her neck as I said that, but she had a turtleneck sweater on.

“Yes, but he was perfectly fine when I left him.” She sniffed. “He was sleeping, in fact.”

Her tone seemed to imply he had no stamina, and I resisted the urge to smile. “And there’s nothing else you can tell me? Nothing he said or did that seemed odd to you?”

“No.” She hesitated. “He did complain about being followed.”

I raised my eyebrows. “When?”

“The night he died. He said he’d spotted some lanky fellow trailing him a couple of times. He’d tried to point him out to me the night before, but I couldn’t see him.”

Lanky—Ivan’s attacker had certainly been that. And given the scent that had been in both apartments, it was looking more likely that my sense of smell was spot-on, and it was the same attacker.

“So did you believe he was being followed?”

She hesitated. “Denny wasn’t into playing games like that. If he said he was being followed, then yes, I believe him.” She glanced at her watch. “Is that all?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

She nodded and marched efficiently off.

“Denny never mentioned anything like that to me,” Ben said heavily.

“I wonder if he mentioned it to the police?” Wondered if Jilli had. I should have asked, but I guess it would be in the report if she had. I took a sip of coffee, then said, “Did Ivan visit the underground clubs?”

“No. Ivan is as straightlaced as they come.”

“So that’s probably not the connection, then.” I studied him for a moment, then said, “What about you?”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “I know where they are, simply because I sometimes need to direct clientele there. Nonpareil does not cater to such needs.”

“Just good old-fashioned sex, huh?”

“Not just good, thank you very much. Our standards are beyond excellent.”

I grinned. “Not to blow your own horn, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed, with the sort of look that had the blood surging through my veins.

Man, what I wouldn’t give to be able to…

My phone chose that moment to ring, which was probably a good thing. I really didn’t need to be thinking about what I’d like to do with this wolf. I grabbed my purse from underneath the table and dragged out my cell. The number wasn’t one I recognized, which was unusual because this was a Directorate phone, and few people had the direct number.

I pressed the receive button and said, “Riley speaking.”

“Riley? This is Vincenta.”

Speak of the devil, and she calls. Something inside me went cold. “How did you get my number?”

“Ah,” she drawled, amusement evident in her rich tones. “That would be giving away trade secrets, now, wouldn’t it?”

The kiss, I thought. It had something to do with that goddamn kiss. That’d teach me not to follow my instincts.

I was getting a new number as soon as I got back to the Directorate.

“What do you want, Vinny?”

“Ivan has been killed. I felt his death a few moments ago.”

“You felt it?” How was something like that possible? As far as I knew, the bond of a vampire and his—or her—get went no deeper than creator and child. There was a duty of care to get them through the first treacherous years of turning, a responsibility that most took seriously if they didn’t want the Directorate hunting their asses. But to have the depth of connection to actually feel a true death?

“Vampires who feed off emotions are different from our blood kin,” she said, rich voice holding just a whisper of anger. “I share part of myself on creation, and they share a part of themselves. It makes us one. Hence, I felt the moment of his departure from this world.”

“How did it happen?”

I held my hand over the phone, and mouthed her name to Ben. Seriousness suddenly overtook the light amusement that had been lingering in his eyes. “Trouble?” he said softly.

I nodded.

“He was decapitated,” Vinny said.

Decapitation was the one way to prevent someone who’d taken the blood ceremony from ever rising again. Hell, it was one of the few good ways to stop a regular vampire, too. It didn’t kill them outright, but with a broken neck they couldn’t move and couldn’t feed, and death was usually the end result.

“Did the sensation of his death tell you anything else?”

“I didn’t see his murderer, if that’s what you’re asking,” Vinny said. “But then, I do not have to. This death came via Aron Young.”

After his slice-and-dice efforts on Ivan yesterday, Young was the immediate pick for prime suspect. That didn’t make him guilty, of course, and neither did the certainty in Vinny’s voice.

“If you didn’t see it, how can you be so sure?”

“Because I tasted the need for vengeance on his lips.”

Which suggested her kiss was a whole lot more than just a meeting of lips—which is what I had feared all along. God, what had she tasted on mine? Part of me wanted to ask, but maybe it was better to just ignore the whole situation.

“You tasted that, and yet still let him see Ivan?”

“His money was good,” Vinny said. “And I thought I could control the situation.”

And her overconfidence had now cost Ivan not only his life but his afterlife, too.

“You had the chance last night to tell me what you knew about Aron Young. This death is on your conscience, Vinny.”

If she had a conscience, that is. Personally, I figured her conscience would only come into play when it suited her.

“I realize that,” she snapped. “Which is why I’ve rung. Aron Young lives at 4 Havard Street, Glenroy. Kill him for me.”

“The Directorate isn’t your personal assassination squad,” I snapped back, then hung up and flung the phone back into my purse. After a deep, calming breath, I met Ben’s gaze. “Ivan’s dead.”

“I gathered that.” He crossed his arms, his expression grim. “How?”

“Decapitated.”

Understanding ran through his bright eyes. “So, no rebirth, then.”

“No.” I hesitated, then added, “I’m sorry you lost another friend.”

He smiled and reached across the table, taking my hand in his and squeezing my fingers lightly. “Catch this bastard for me.”

“I will.” I glanced down, suddenly wishing the hands that clasped mine with such warm strength could caress the rest of me and bring me back to aching, fierce life. I wanted that. Wanted it bad.

I just wasn’t sure that I was ready for it.

Besides, I had a bad guy to catch, and as much I had never wanted to be a guardian, I had grown to enjoy many parts of the job. I couldn’t now shirk responsibility to pursue pleasure.

I rose. “I’ll ring you later. We’ll finish this another time.”

“I certainly hope so.”

He released my hand, and my hormones let out a collective sigh of frustration. I ignored them and headed out.

Once I was in my car and back on the road, I switched on the onboard and contacted the Directorate. Jack answered.

“I need another cell phone number, boss.”

“Yeah, like they’re something I can just haul out of my ass and hand around willy-nilly.”

I grinned. “I was under the impression you could do anything.”

“You, my dear guardian, are testing even my limits.” There was an undercurrent of amusement in his voice, which meant he wasn’t as grouchy as his words made out. A quick look down at the screen confirmed the fact. There was a decided twinkle in his eyes. Maybe he’d found himself a nice little blood donor last night. “So tell me why you need to lose a perfectly good phone number.”

“Because it seems our emo vampire has acquired it. She rang me just now to tell me we’ve another dead body.”

“You kissed her, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, because it was the only way to get the information I wanted.”

“Emo vamps siphon information through intimate contact.”

“I figured as much when she called me. But it got me the name, so I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again.”

I could almost feel his sudden grin. “Darlin’, you’ve come such a long way since we first dragged you kicking and screaming into this job.”

There wasn’t much I could say about the truth in that statement, so I got back to business. “The accountant that was attacked last night was killed this morning, apparently. Vinny rang to give me the killer’s address. I’m heading over there now.”

“Did the vamp who attacked him last night feel very old?”

“I didn’t get a whole lot of time to sniff him out, but I’d have to guess no.”

“Then it can’t be the same killer. It’s after nine.”

And young vamps fried at the slightest touch of sunlight. “Then either he has an accomplice, or he’s older than he seems.”

“Just be aware of both possibilities when you go in there.”

“Boss, I have been doing this for a little while now. You don’t need to tell me the basics anymore.”

He harrumphed. “You may know the basics, my dear, but you have a frightening tendency to ignore them.”

“But that’s what makes me a good guardian, isn’t it?” I said, then hung up before he could comment further.

It didn’t take all that long to get across to Glenroy. It was one of Melbourne’s older suburbs, and had originally been the haunt of the working class. These days, it had become a wasteland of run-down and grimy-looking houses—and run-down and grimy-looking people. Which was odd really, considering the closeness to the city.

Using the nav-computer, I found Havard Street and parked several houses up from my target. Number four was a red-brick affair with a sagging roof and smashed front windows. It didn’t look as if anyone was living there, but maybe that was the whole point.

I got my gun out of the secure box under the seat, then climbed out, locked the car, and walked down. The scent of decay bloomed in the air, heavily enriched with the smell of humanity. The house beside my quarry’s looked to be in a similar state of disrepair, but there were clean-looking floral curtains adorning the windows, and a shiny new car sitting in the driveway. Not hard to guess where all the money had gone in that household.

With the heavy scents that already rode the air, it was hard to catch Young’s. Even when I walked through the broken front gate, the wrongness that I’d come to associate with him failed to materialize. I frowned and stopped just short of the steps. Neither of the front rooms had glass, let alone curtains, so I very much doubted Young would be in either of them. Even if he was older than I’d been presuming, he still wouldn’t be able to stand the amount of sunlight that was streaming in through those windows.

I flexed my fingers, then gripped the laser a little tighter and made my way around to the side of the house. A ramshackle wooden fence divided the rear yard from the front. I jumped it easily enough, then kept to the side of the house as I crept forward. The ground here was barren, and little puffs of dirt rose with each step, making my nose twitch with the need to sneeze.

I ducked past a window and approached the back of the house. There were fewer windows here, but again, none of them were curtained or boarded—which was extremely unusual for the haunt of a newer vampire.

Dirt and cobwebs caked the back door, but the old metal handle gleamed in the sunlight. The dirt around the handle was smudged—as if fingers had brushed it when opening the door.

So obviously, someone had been through here recently. I just had to hope it was a vampire, and not some poor hobo looking for shelter for the night. Because if it was the latter, he was about to get a very big fright.

I walked up the steps and wrapped my fingers around the handle. Nothing seemed to be moving inside, and the smell of vampire remained annoyingly absent.

Hoping Vinny hadn’t sent me on a wild-goose chase, I twisted the handle and carefully opened the door. Cold air rushed out at me, filled with the aromas of rot and age. But wrapped within those scents was the slightest hint of vampire.

It wasn’t exactly a fresh smell, but he’d at least been here. He might still be, for all I knew.

I edged inside, my back to the wall and finger on the trigger of my gun. This back room was small, and filled with cobwebs and yellowed newspapers. I flared my nostrils, seeking the scents beyond what was in this room. Still nothing strong. I crept past the stacks of paper and into what had once been a kitchen. What remained of the counters showed recent use. A newish kettle sat on a stove, and a jar of coffee and a cracked mug sat nearby.

Young—or whoever was living here—was going all out when it came to the luxuries, obviously.

I continued forward, into a hallway. The wooden floorboards creaked under my steps, the sound seeming to echo oddly through the silence.

There was another room to the right, but again, beside newspapers and rubbish, it was empty. As was the bathroom and the living room. The front room possessed a bed that appeared to have been used recently, if the crinkled state of the sheets was anything to go by.

And Young had been in here. His scent was faint, but nevertheless here—it seemed not even the breeze coming through the smashed windows could remove the foulness of it.

But why would a vampire have a bed in one of the sunnier rooms of the house? Or did he only use it at night, when he wasn’t out torturing people for whatever sick reasons he had?

Whatever the reason, he didn’t appear to be here now. I blew out a breath and lowered the weapon. What next? It wasn’t usual for a vamp to have more than one bolt-hole, but Vinny had seemed pretty positive that this was his current address. I mightn’t trust her, but I trusted the anger that had been in her voice. Trusted her need for vengeance.

I moved back into the hallway. None of these rooms were exactly dark—certainly not dark enough for a vamp needing to avoid sunlight, anyway.

So if he was here, he’d have to have a daytime bolt-hole. I looked up at the ceiling. Old places like this had high rooflines, and it wasn’t unusual for this attic area to be used as a storage area. And if it could fit junk, it could certainly fit a vampire.

I flicked my vision to infrared and studied the ceiling again. Nothing in the area immediately above me. I walked back through the house, gaze searching the shadows above me. It wasn’t until I reached the kitchen that I saw the heat of life.

Only it didn’t look big enough to be a vampire. It was more the size of a small cat.

Frowning, I retraced my steps until I found the hatchway, which was in the bathroom. After making sure the old cabinet would support my weight, I climbed up and carefully pushed aside the cover.

Dust and old spiderwebs drifted down from the darkness, and I brushed them away from my face. Spindly cracks of light ran across the roof high above, suggesting the old tin wasn’t as waterproof—or light-proof—as it had looked from outside. After checking that the life source hadn’t moved, I flicked the laser’s safety on and shoved it in my pocket, then grabbed either side of the hatch and quickly hauled myself up. My gun was back in my hand before my butt hit the ceiling.

The red blur of life hadn’t moved, but its oddly round eyes were regarding me steadily.

There was no smell of vampire up here at all. Just rotting wood mixed with the slightest tang of excrement. Not human excrement—not even vampire. This had an aroma that suggested some sort of animal had made itself at home here.

I switched back to normal vision and looked around. Despite the light creeping in through all the cracks, the edges of the roofline were still wrapped in shadows, and that’s where my quarry—whatever it was—was hiding.

I rose and crept forward. Dust stirred, dancing in the streaks of light and tickling my nose. I sniffed, trying not to sneeze so I wouldn’t startle whatever it was in the corner.

I was halfway across the roof when it moved, briefly coming out into the lighter areas before scampering off to the shadows at the other end. I smiled, and some of the tension eased from my shoulders.

It was nothing more dangerous than a brush-tailed possum. The little marsupials had flourished in suburbs all across Australia, and while they were damn noisy at night—and often messy when they got into roof cavities—they weren’t particularly dangerous unless cornered and frightened.

The fact that this one was living here suggested a vampire wasn’t. While they were comfortable sharing living space with humans and most nonhumans, vamps seemed to send them scattering.

I blew out a frustrated breath, then made my way back to the hatch and jumped back down.

This place had proven to be one big, fat dead end. Young might have been here, but he wasn’t now. Whether he would come back was the question—and though the kettle and coffee suggested he would, with crazy vamps you never could tell.

And I wasn’t about to hang about and wait for him. Jack could get the night guys to run a watch on the house—there were more of them, anyway. I needed to get back to the other investigation before our bloodthirsty cat found another horny male to beat and murder.

In the room ahead, a board creaked. Which wasn’t unusual in old houses, granted, but up until now, the floorboards had creaked only when I’d stepped on them.

I stopped. The creaking didn’t.

Someone—or something—was in the house with me. My fingers tightened around the laser.

I couldn’t feel the presence of a vampire. Couldn’t smell him.

And yet the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end, and the sudden sensation that trouble waited just around the corner sat like a weight in my stomach.

As it turns out, my clairvoyance had it all wrong.

Trouble wasn’t waiting around the corner.

It was right behind me.