Bound to Shadows

Chapter Eight

I found a bathroom and quickly cleaned myself up, then got dressed. The receptionist bid me a cheery goodbye as I left, and I somehow managed to drag up a smile and a nod as I went out the door.

Once in the car, the shaking began, and for several seconds I could do nothing more than grip the steering wheel against the reaction. God, how was I going to get past this and not have it destroy everything I held dear? I really didn't know, and that frightened me more anything fate had thrown at me so far.

I needed someone to talk to. Someone who stood outside my own little circle, but who knew me well enough to understand. And there was only one person who fit the criteria.

Dia.

I grabbed my phone and quickly dialed her number. She didn't answer, but her phone clicked over to message bank, and her sultry tone said, "I'm with a client at the moment, so please leave a message. Riley, if you need to talk, I'll meet you at the usual place at five-thirty."

I smiled as I hung up. Dia was a powerful—and famous—psychic, and this wasn't the first time she'd anticipated my need to talk to her. Obviously, whatever vibes I'd been sending out into the universe were strong enough for her to pick up.

I threw my phone back into my handbag, then started up the car and headed for the Directorate.

Kade did something of a double-take when I walked into the office. "Well," he said, leaning back in his chair and giving me a wide grin. "Don't you look deliciously summery. Who'd you dress up for?"

"No one special." I dumped my bag on the desk and plopped down on the chair. "How did you go at the clubs?"

He shrugged, his gaze lingering on my legs as I crossed them and slid forward towards my desk. "It seems that neither women were patrons at the same club. Crowley preferred Shades, and Bailey was a regular at Indigo Desires and Dark Arts."

None of which I'd heard of, but then, I wasn't a part of that desperate little world. I leaned forward so the scanner could check my eye, then clicked into the system to do a search on the plate number Kye had given me. "I supposed the managers didn't notice anything unusual about either woman in the week leading up to their deaths?"

"Got it in one." He shifted, clicking the mouse, then added, "I went to Dante's, too. The owner wasn't in but I talked to the bartender. He's never seen either woman."

"Which doesn't mean there isn't a connection between your case and mine."

"I still think it's a coincidence, nothing more." He glanced at the screen again. "How'd it go with Vinny?"

"She claims to know nothing about the deaths, and states that killing her energy sources like that is nothing more than wasting seduction time and effort."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you believe her?"

I hesitated, and wrinkled my nose. "I don't know. That woman is a consummate liar and I can't use telepathy in her den. "

"So we keep a watch on her?"

"Yeah, though I've got to clear it with Jack, first."

"Clear what with me?" Jack said, as he stalked into the room.

His expression was dark and my stomach sank. It surely meant another murder had occurred, and we really didn't need that right now.

"I want the current observation on Vinny expanded to a full time watch. She claims she's not connected with the unsolved deaths, but I'm not sure if I believe her. I think we need to see who is coming in and out of her den." Because she might be a vampire, and might have the usual daylight restrictions, but those restrictions didn't mean she couldn't be involved in some way with these killings. "Even if the murders aren't Vinny's handwork, they're happening on her turf and I can't believe she doesn't know about them."

Or that she wouldn't be using that knowledge to her own advantage. Vinny, after all, was all about climbing the financial ladder. And if someone was here with her permission, they'd be paying for the privilege.

"You'll have to arrange the day shift watch between you, Kade and Iktar. Rhoan's on another case right now, and we can't afford to have him off it. And make sure your watch is not at the expense of the other investigations." He stopped in front of the coffee maker, grabbed a cup and began filling it up. The smell of semi-burned beans filled the air and I wrinkled my nose again. Jack didn't seem to care as he took a sip then turned around to face us. "What sort of progress have we got on the beheading cases?"

"I have another possible witness. He gave me the license plate number of a car he saw taking off from the area at the time of the murder."

"That's a start." Jack paused, his gaze meeting mine. "Cole told me about the mess at Dante's this morning. Well done on that."

"Thanks," I glanced at the computer as the search finally spat out the name and address of the car owner. I transferred the information across to police records and started a cross-check search, just to see whether my hunch that the car had been stolen was correct. "I did hear that our beheading victims—and Dante Starke—are all members of the Melbourne vampire council. Is that true?"

He studied me for a second, his green eyes giving little away. "Where did you hear that?"

I raised my eyebrows. "The source doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Did Quinn tell you this?"

"No. He gave me a general background on the council, but not specifics. I know he's an advisor, like you."

"You are?" Kade said, surprise in his voice.

"In my capacity as Director of the Guardian division, yes." Jack's gaze flicked from Kade back to me. "Who sits on either the local or greater council is not something we advertise. There are few outside those two circles who know."

"As you said, the councilors themselves know, and that information in available in their minds for those who know how to grab it."

"So who stole it and told you?"

I hesitated, knowing the answer wasn't going to make him any happier. "Kye."

"Well, that explains the party dress," Kade murmured.

I gave him a filthy look, but the damn man gave me an unrepentant grin, and I knew I was going to be subjected to an interrogation later.

"And what the hell was he doing hanging around Dante's?"

"He's working for a man who's not too happy about the fact that his wife is a blood whore."

"You warned him off killing the woman?"

"I did."

"Good. If the kill proceeds, we'll nab him. At least it'll mean one less monster of the streets."

I didn't say anything. I hadn't told Jack that Kye was my soul mate, but it was interesting that he used nab instead of kill. Maybe Quinn had mentioned it.

"That still doesn't explain how the bastard knew our victims—and Dante—are councilors," Jack continued.

I shrugged. "Apparently he got bored during the stakeout and started reading vampire minds. Haven was one of them."

"And you believe that's all he did? Because it's a bit of a damn coincidence that we have a hired killer hanging about Dante's at the same time we have a rash of beheadings."

"He denied beheading them. I believe him."

"And you confirmed his denial by reading his thoughts?"

I hesitated. "I actually can't. He's a siphon, remember, so he basically steals the strength of my own shields."

I didn't mention that I didn't even try—that I'd been too scared to try. Jack would never have understood reasoning like that.

"Meaning you can't be one hundred percent certain." Jack shook his head. "I want to know his movements. Grab a skin-tracker from research and place it on him."

"He'll find it—"

"Not these he won't."

I wouldn't bet on it, but I wasn't about to argue about the point. Not when Jack had that look in his eyes. "If our victims were councilors, why weren't we told? Surely it has some relevance?"

"Why would it? No one knows who the councilors are just so they can't become targets."

I frowned. "So how does the daily council business get run? There has to be some sort of public face for the council, doesn't there?"

"There's a general office if people wish to bring something to the council's notice. All decisions are filtered down the ranks via telepathy from the old ones."

Quinn was an old one. Was he one of the relayers of information? Somehow, I just couldn't see it. It seemed too passive for someone who'd once been a cazador.

"But it wasn't just Haven and Gateway. There's the other one—"

"Who we believe is Norman Garrent. He didn't report to the meeting last night, and hasn't been sighted for several nights."

"So, we do have three dead councilors. That suggests a pattern to me."

"Now that another one of them—Harvey Bastie—has also been found beheaded, I suspect you're right." He took a sip of his drink, and grimaced. But not, I suspected, because of the taste of the coffee. After all, while he might prefer the top shelf stuff, he didn't care what it tasted like, as long as it was hot. "Cole and his team are on their way there now. I want you to follow. Bastiel's housekeeper was killed as well."

Meaning it was possible her soul was hanging about for a chat. "I gather you—or the greater council—is currently in the process of warning the remaining members of the Melbourne council that there could be a psycho after them?"

"They knew after the first beheading."

It was a damn shame we hadn't. I blew out a breath, then glanced down as the computer beeped. The car had been stolen. The owner probably wouldn't be able to tell me much more than what was already in the police report, but I guess it still had to be chased up. I grabbed a pen and wrote down her name and address. "After Bastiel's, I'll head over to Vinny's and start the watch, but I've got a meeting with Dia at five-thirty. Can we get one of the night shift guys to take over after five?"

He frowned. "I'm not sure that this is the sort of case Dia can help us with."

"Right now, with no solids leads, I'm willing to give it a go. "

"Just don't sit there on my time drinking coffee and chatting about the weather," he said heavily. "Or I will take it out of your salary."

I grinned. "As if I would do that."

He harrumphed and walked out. I glanced at Kade. "You available to do some watching tomorrow?"

He grimaced. "It's not my favorite thing, you know that. Besides, I thought you wanted help with the beheadings? I can't do both."

He could if he really wanted to—but even as that thought crossed my mind, I knew I wasn't really being fair.

He had just as many unsolved cases on his plate as I did and Jack would be all over him if he dropped everything to help me.

Plus he had a family and babies to go home to, and I didn't.

Not yet, anyway, I thought with an inner shiver.

God, how would that change my life? How would it change my attitude to this job and the risks it involved?

It had taken me a long time to admit I actually enjoyed being a guardian, but the chase and the danger were extremely addictive. It was in my blood now and giving it up would not be easy.

But giving up one dream after another hadn't been easy, either, and having a baby was the last one left. The only one that I really had any chance of fully fulfilling.

It should have been an easy choice, a simple one. But it wasn't.

I liked what I did. Loved what I did. We made a difference, and that made the risks and the dangers worthwhile. And however much I might have fought become a guardian, it made me feel like I'd finally found something I was meant to do.

And yet, I didn't want any child of mine growing up without the love of a pack around him—or her—and that pack had to be more than just Liander, however much he might cherish our offspring if the worst happened. Rhoan and I only ever had our mother growing up, and however much she might have loved us, it wasn't pack. We were never considered pack, and that isolation had echoed through our relationships both as children and as grown-ups.

I didn't want that loneliness—that feeling of never really belonging—for any child of mine.

"Earth to Riley. Come in, Riley."

I blinked and glanced at Kade. "What?"

"I said, I'll do a couple of hours, but that's all I can manage."

"Great. What about around lunch time?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Another hot date with a certain werewolf?"

"It's not a date." More a battle of wills. "I don't want anyone killed, Kade, so I'll play his games until he gets tired of them or I can find something to pin on his ass and get him out of my hair."

"I'm sure if you tell Jack about the threat, he'll handle the situation appropriately."

"Maybe, but I'd prefer to handle it myself."

"Then I'll just hope that no one you care about ends up getting hurt, because I do not trust that man."

"Don't worry, neither do I." I collected my purse from the back of the chair, then walked across to his desk and kissed his cheek. "Don't suppose you'd like to help me out with one more thing?"

His gaze slid from my face to my breasts, which were on view thanks to the fact that the dress top had gaped forward when I bent over. "If it involves handling the beautiful ladies hanging in front of me, most definitely." I grinned and handed him the paper with Harriet Morgan's address on it. "Would you mind going to talk to this woman for me? Her car was seen leaving the beheading scene, but she reported it stolen the day before. Someone needs to talk to her and check her story."

He barely even glanced at the paper before putting it down on the desk. His big hands cupped my breasts, holding them almost reverently. "Are you sure these beauties don't need a good massage?"

I chuckled and gently pulled back. "I'm sure."

He sighed dramatically "I do miss them, you know."

"You didn't have them—or me—that often."

"I know. That's the most regrettable aspect of this whole situation."

I shook my head and grabbed my keys "You're incorrigible."

"Totally." He gave me a smile that was both cheeky and sexy. "I will get you back into my arms one day. You know that, don't you?"

"When hell freezes over, or Jack gives us the go ahead. And you know which one is more likely to happen first," I said, then waved and headed out the door and down to research.

Harvey Bastiel lived in Hampton—a beachside suburb one down from Brighton, but without Brighton's high end reputation or price tag. Which meant the properties near the beach here went for a lowly one million rather than two or more.

Bastiel's house was actually several streets back from the beach, but it was a beautiful old Californian bungalow located in what was known as the 'period precinct', so the price tag was right up there with houses that possessed a beach view.

I parked behind Cole's van and climbed out. The sea air spun around me, crisp and salty, and I breathed deep. It didn't do much to wash the tiredness from my system, but then, getting a good night's sleep was probably the only cure for that.

I swung open the picket gate and walked up a path lined with white roses. Their sweet scent spun around me, but it was laced with the aroma of fresh blood and death emanations from the open front door. There were dusted fingerprints on both the door and the frame, and Dobbs knelt several feet inside, carefully removing what looked like bits of flesh from the shiny wooden floor. He looked up as I entered and gave me a tight smile.

"The housekeeper was shot, but Bastiel was killed the same way as the others."

"Any sign of forced entry?"

He shook his head. "It looks like the housekeeper came into the house, saw what was happening, and made a run for it. She was shot in the living room."

"Why run into the living room? Why not run straight for the door?"

He shrugged. "People don't always think straight when someone is trying to kill them."

I guess that was true. And being confronted with a gunman in your workplace wasn't the same everyday occurrence for most folk that it was for us. "What time was she killed?"

"We're estimating somewhere between five and seven this morning, but we won't know for sure until we get back to the lab."

Five was awfully early for a housekeeper to arrive, I would have thought. "And Bastiel? Where was he killed?"

"In his bed." He indicated the hallway with his chin. "Cole's down there now."

I carefully stepped around the little globules, then headed down the hallway, my footsteps echoing sharply on the floorboards. The master bedroom was the third doorway along.

Cole glanced up as I stepped into the room. His craggy face showed signs of exhaustion. "I'm getting a weird sense of déjà vu."

"Why?" My gaze went past him to the body in the bed. If it wasn't for the fact that the white sheets were stained crimson, it would almost be easy to believe that Bastiel was asleep rather than dead.

"Because of this." Cole waved a hand at the body on the bed. "Vampires laying still while someone hacks away at their necks. We had another case like this a few months back, remember?"

How could I forget? That case had bought me Kye, and all the inherent heartache that came with him. "But I thought you said there was nothing in the toxicology reports or the tissue samples of the other victims that suggest drugs of any kind. Wouldn't the witch dust show up in the lab?"

"That stuff would, because we've analyzed it and know its contents. But what if it's something similar, consisting of ingredients we haven't come across? If they were natural, they wouldn't necessarily be flagged."

"I guess that's possible." And it suggested that these murders had been planned well ahead of time. It wasn't easy to find a witch in this city—not one who dealt with the dark arts, anyway.

I flared my nostrils and cast aside both the rich metallic tang of blood and Cole's deeper, spicier aroma. The under notes swirling though the air ran rich with the scent of vampire, human, furniture polish and wood smoke. And there was something else—something that was little more than a nebulous foulness that tickled the back of my throat and made me want to cough.

"There is something odd here." I took a deeper breath but the scent remained annoyingly elusive and undefined. The room itself held no hints as to what it might be. My gaze fell on the light layer of dust sitting behind the bedside lamp. "You might want to get some dust samples from the room, just in case."

"I already have." He paused, picking up what looked like a piece of lint and putting it into a plastic bag. "This odd scent you mentioned—did you smell it at either of the other murders?"

I frowned, thinking back. I had smelled something odd at Gateways—something just as nebulous and out of place. But Kye had arrived not long after I'd scented it, and had basically blown any memory of it out of the water.

Until now.

"There was a similar scent at Gateway's."

"Why didn't you mention it in your report?"

"Because I couldn't be sure that it wasn't just due to the mold in the bathroom."

And if I had gone back into the bathroom, it probably wouldn't have sparked any memories anyway, because it just didn't smell the same as the other witch dust.

I glanced around the room again. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. There was a huge gold watch and a wallet filled with cash on the dresser, and several expensively framed paintings on the walls. The only link between the three—now four—beheaded men seemed to be the fact that they were all on the Melbourne council.

So what I need to find out was who, exactly, the council had pissed off lately. And I very much doubted that it was going to be an easy task. I had no idea who the members were—besides Dante, that is, and I really didn't want to go talk to that man again—and Jack had showed no inclination to share information about the rest of them. Maybe he figured I didn't need to know any more than I already did, or maybe it was just the simple fact that he wasn't allowed to tell me. He was an advisor, after all. Maybe he had to get permission from the greater council before he could reveal that sort of information. After all, ruling bodies the world over never made it easy for anyone to get to them.

Although killers never seemed to have a problem.

My only real option was talking to Quinn. He might not have told me much about the councils, but he'd said a whole lot more than Jack, so he just might be persuaded to give me another name. If I could talk to someone—someone who wasn't sex on legs—I might just have a real chance of cracking this damn case.

I returned my attention to Cole. "Any indication on how our killer got into the house?"

"Back door was jimmied. The killer must have moved extraordinarily fast, because it appeared Bastiel had gotten no further than flipping the sheet off his face."

I frowned. "The only race who can move that fast is another vampire."

"There are several shifters who can move almost as quickly as a vampire, and almost would be fast enough in this case. A vampire's reactions tend to be slightly slower when they're waking from daytime slumber."

Which was why, throughout human history, those suspected of being vampires were staked during the daylight hours. If the staker was human, it gave them a fighting chance. Of course, opening any younger vamp's den to sunlight would have done just as good a job, but humans seemed to prefer the one-two punch, just to be sure.

"It doesn't explain how the other two were caught, though. They both awake and aware."

Cole grimaced. "You've seen the witch dust in action, so you tell me—does it act fast enough to stop a vampire reacting against an attack?"

I wrinkled my nose, remembering the zombie throwing the dust in my face and just how quickly it sucked away resistance. I'd been lucky—that lot of dust had been targeted towards vamps, not dhampires, and my werewolf blood had saved me. "Yeah, it does."

"Then that's your answer. We just have to pin down the ingredients for future reference." He gave me a weary smile. "If you could remember to grab a sample when you catch the killer, that would be of great help."

I snorted softly, and waved a hand at the body. "I guess the murderer has to be non-human. It can't be easy to hack someone's head off like that."

"A nonhuman would definitely manage it more easily than a human, no matter how strong that human was."

"So, basically, I'm looking for a nonhuman with a grudge against the vampire council. That should be easy to pin down."

Cole raised his eyebrows. "All the victims are Melbourne Council members?"

"Yes. And Jack thinks the vampire who was incinerated before the first beheading was also a council member." I paused. "Why wouldn't he tell you that?"

Cole snorted. "The councils are a secretive bunch of bastards, that's why. I doubt Jack would be able to even hint he knows who's who without seeking their permission first."

Which was basically what I'd figured. "It doesn't make our job any easier, though."

"I would hazard a guess that it wouldn't be a major concern for them." He sniffed—a disdainful sound. "They might pay lip service to the Directorate and human rules in general, but I dare say they have their own methods of dealing with situations like this."

Yeah, and they used to be called cazadors. What they were called now was anyone's guess.

"But as it's us dealing with the bodies and the press and the public, you'd think they'd be a little more helpful—especially given that they want this killer caught as much as we do."

"When have vampires ever been overly helpful if it doesn't suit them?" Cole snorted softly. "Director Hunter, Jack, and Quinn are the exceptions, not the rule."

I studied him keenly for a moment, then said, "That's a pretty fierce attitude, considering who we work for and with."

He shrugged. "Just because I think the majority are arrogant sods doesn't belittle what we do at the Directorate. We make a difference, and we stand between what are basically predators and their prey. That more than makes up for any quibbles I might have about who I have to work with at times."

"So the attitude you gave me when I first started working as a guardian was because I'm just as much a vampire as a werewolf?"

He grinned. It wiped the weariness from his face and sparkled in his bright eyes. "It certainly was. But you're actually not half bad, considering you've got two lots of bad blood."

I clapped a hand to my chest. "Be still my heart—that almost sounded like a compliment."

"As if." His smile faded a little, but the remnants still warmed the corners of his eyes, and some of the tension in him seemed to have faded. "Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do, so move those distractingly long legs of yours into another room."

"Now, that sounds more like the Cole I know and love." I gave him a sketchy salute goodbye and obeyed.

The rest of the house didn't reveal much. Bastiel might have been on the council, but his study to didn't hold any clues as to when or where they met. Maybe all such information was sent via a general telepathic broadcast to the appropriate members. I broke open a locked drawer in his desk, but it didn't hold much more than several check books and a netbook. The latter had fingerprint locks installed, so while it might have held the information I was looking for, it was more Cole's field than mine. The kitchen and dining area at the back of the house didn't hold anything in the way of revelations, either—other than the fact Bastiel was something of a neat freak. Everything gleamed, and there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere.

I was walking back up the hall to the study when the air suddenly became chilled.

It was a sensation I was all too familiar with. There was a soul here, and it wanted to speak.

Goosebumps crawled across my skin as I walked forward slowly. Dusty knelt near the body of the woman, carefully plucking a hair from her blue woolen cardigan. He glanced up as I walked into the living room, then his gaze intensified and he straightened abruptly. "You sense something?"

"Her soul is here."

"You want me to leave?"

"No." I paused, trying to pinpoint where the chill seemed to be coming from. Surprisingly, it wasn't near her body but rather over near the big bay window. "What was the housekeeper's name?"

"Helen Hills."

"Helen," I said softly, "why do you linger here? What do you need to say or do?"

My ability to communicate with the dead had gotten a lot stronger in recent months, and their ability to gain shape and materialize long enough to actually speak in my presence had grown. So it seemed Cole's theory that they were likewise using my strength to take shape was true—and these days the mere act of talking to the spirit world left me a whole lot weaker than I liked to admit.

The chill in the air got fiercer, until it felt like fingers of ice were creeping into my bones. No one could really explain why it felt like these souls brought the chill of the underworld with them, but the general consensus was that it had something to do with them being 'in-between'—neither here nor in heaven nor hell, or wherever else it was that souls went to.

Something stirred against the sunlight streaming in through the window. A wisp of thicker air that held no shape and couldn't even be defined as smoke.

"Helen?" I repeated. "Do you need to speak to me? Have you got anything you want to say?"

Her soul was little more than a barely visible wisp of white vapor, with no features and no body. But her thoughts reached out all the same.

Why? she said. Why did we need to die?

"I can't tell you that, Helen. Not until I catch whoever did this to you and your boss."

For a moment there was no answer, but the chill got stronger, until my fingers and nose ached with the fierceness of it. Energy flowed around me, out of me, building in the air, giving the soul the strength to speak.

But it makes no sense. Mr. Bastiel was a nice man, even if he was a vampire.

"Nice people die all the time, Helen. It often doesn't make sense or seem right." I paused as a sliver of weakness pulled at my muscles. She seemed to be sucking more energy than the souls of the past, and that meant I'd better hurry before she drained me too greatly. That was the one fear I had about doing this—that these souls would drag me into the shadows depths with them if I wasn't careful. "What can you tell me about the man who broke into the house and killed you both?"

It wasn't one man. It was two.

Surprise rippled through me. Up until now, there'd been no hint that two men had been involved in these murders. But then, we had very little in the way of hard clues. "Are you sure?"

Yes. One was standing back, his arms crossed. He had a camera in his hand, but he wasn't using it. The other had a

saw. She paused, and if she'd had a physical body, she would have shuddered. As it was, her horror rolled through my mind, stark and brutal. He was hacking at Mr. Bastiel's neck. There was blood…

I cut in, not sure I could stand another roll of horror through my mind. "Can you describe either of the men, Helen?"

She didn't answer for several seconds, her energy sucking at mine until she added, One was a vampire. I can sense them, you know? I don't know about the other one, because I wasn't near enough to catch his scent. But he was tall and fit-looking. Both of them were.

None of which was particularly helpful when it came to tracking down these killers. "And you can't tell me anything else about them?"

The energy in the air climbed another notch, making the small hairs along the nape of my neck and along my arms stand on end. The trembling in my muscles was getting stronger.

Finally, she said, The vampire wasn't the type who took blood. They smell a little different to what this one did.

Meaning we were dealing with an emo vamp? In this case as well as the other? What were the goddamn chances of that happening without there being some sort of connection?

Which meant that my watch on Vinny had just become more important than ever. She might not be involved in either of these killings, but she surely had to know who was. Vampires—whatever the make—were very territorial. If there was another emo working on Vinny's patch, she'd know about it. And be profiting by it in some way.

"There's nothing else you can tell me?"

Well, they were both extremely good looking. And well dressed. Her voice seemed softer, but maybe that was a result of my growing fatigue. But it all happened so quick, you know? I saw them, and ran. I tried getting to the phone in the lounge to ring the police, but there was a gunshot. Then, this…

Can you give me a description of them?

There was no response. The energy flowing around me was ebbing along with my strength. Maybe she no longer could answer.

"Thank you for your help, Helen." I hesitated, then added, "You can move on now, if you want to."

Her sigh echoed through my mind, then her fragile form disintegrated and the remaining energy burning though the air disappeared with it.

I grabbed at the bookcase as my knees threatened to give way, and took several deep breaths in an effort to clear the tension and fatigue still rolling through me. It didn't help much.

"Here," Dusty said roughly, and shoved a steaming mug of coffee at me. "We figured you might need this if you did connect with the soul."

"I think I love you." I wrapped my hands around the mug, trying to get some warmth back into my fingers. "Was Helen Hills a werewolf?"

"We haven't checked. Why?"

"Because she spoke of smelling people." I glanced around as Cole walked into the room, his expression one of concern as his gaze swept me. He seemed to relax a little when he saw that I'd suffered no outward damage from my communication with the soul, and that warmed me more than the drink. "Our soul said there were two men involved. One of them was a vampire."

"And the other?"

"She said she wasn't close enough to catch his scent, but he was carrying a camera he didn't use. The vampire was doing the beheading."

"Well, that's going to put a cat amongst our vampire pigeons, isn't it?" He frowned. "Why in the hell would they bring a camera and not use it?"

"I'll ask the bad guys that when I catch them." I took a sip of coffee. The heat of it slid right down to my belly and I had to resist the urge to sigh in pleasure. I took another sip, then added, "At least this might ease the tension on the streets. It isn't humans doing this, so the vamp population can stop getting so uppity."

"My natural response would be to state that vamps are reborn uppity, but I know a fair few humans who could be classified that way, too."

"Yeah, and more than a few of them are journalists."

He grinned. "Seems I'm not the only one with an unsavory attitude. Jack would not approve."

"Jack himself is not fond of the way some reporters tend to over-sensationalize these type of events. And if they hadn't disobeyed the embargo, we would not have been confronted by that lynch mob."

"True." Cole grimaced and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "And whoever our two killers are, they're damn good, because we're not finding much in the way of clues."

Which meant it was more important than ever that I got to talk to someone on the council.

"Well, we have a vampire involved in the killings, and we have council members as the victims, so it's not hard to guess what the connection is. All we have to do is find the why behind that connection."

"I wish you luck with that," Dusty muttered.

"I'm going to need it." I drained the coffee in several gulps, just about scalding my mouth. I didn't care, because the heat of it burned all the way down, chasing the last of the chill from my flesh.

If only I could get rid of the weakness as easily.

I pushed away from the bookcase. The room spun a little, but my knees held up just fine, even if my muscles were still trembling.

"Go get a burger before you do anything else," Cole commented. "You're still looking rather pale."

"It'll be my first port of call, Doctor Reece."

"Idiot," he said, and walked out of the room.

I gave a grinning Dusty a nod goodbye and headed out to my car. Which took more out of me than I cared to admit. With my hands still shaking, I dug my phone out of my bag, hit the vid button, and dialed Quinn.

He answered on the second ring, but the call remained voice only. Which meant he was somewhere other than his office. "Hey lovely lady, this is a nice surprise."

"I couldn't go another second without hearing your dulcet Irish tones," I replied, a smile twitching my lips.

"As much as I wish that were true, I know its not. What can I do for you?"

"Besides take me out for dinner, you mean?"

"I shall have the helicopter prepared and take you somewhere exotic."

My smile grew. There were benefits to having an extremely rich boyfriend. "I thought you had a date with your friend, Julian, tonight?"

"But not until eleven. He doesn't believe in hitting the clubs any earlier, because he doesn't believe they really start getting interesting before then."

"Then he really does need to visit a wolf club." They were interesting any time day or night. "And I'm actually ringing because I need your help with a case."

He didn't answer immediately. In the background, doors swished open then came the echo of his quick steps. I knew that sound—he was just entering his office building. "What sort of help?"

"The three vampires beheaded are all on the Melbourne council. I need to talk to one of the councilors to see what decision they might have made recently that could have pissed someone off this much."

He hesitated. "That won't be easy."

"As I gathered when Jack didn't actually suggest it."

More doors swished closed, and an electronic voice started giving floor numbers. He was more than likely in the express to the fiftieth floor—an elevator I hated. The damn thing moved too fast for my liking.

"For the very good reason that he's probably doing it himself."

"Maybe he is, but I'd still prefer to talk to someone myself. He has to be respectful. I don't."

"You will if you want to get anywhere near the councilors. They tend to be even more old fashioned than I am. "

"Yeah," I said dryly. "They're so old fashioned they attend clubs to service blood whores."

"Bastiel didn't."

I raised my eyebrows. "You've already heard about that?"

"Bad news always travels fast." His voice was as dry as mine. "I'm gathering you know about Dante already?"

"Yeah, and I want to avoid him as much as possible. That man is a sexual predator."

"A werewolf backing away from another predator?" Surprise and amusement ran through his voice. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Meaning you want me to go see the man?"

He laughed. "No. I'll talk to one of the other councilors and see if he'll agree to a meet. More than that I can't promise."

"Thanks for trying."

"As I said, no promises. I'll be finished work at six. Where do you want me to meet you?"

"I'm meeting Dia at our usual place in Brunswick at five-thirty."

"For work or pleasure?"

"Mainly pleasure, but I'm on Jack's time so I'll ask her an official question or two."

"Then I'll meet you at Essendon at seven thirty," he said. "That should give you enough time after the meeting to get home, get changed, and meet me."

With a silly grin of anticipation on my face, I hung up then started the car and headed over to Vinny's. I grabbed a couple of burgers at the local McDonalds, then drove around until I found a spot that was reasonably inconspicuous but allowed me to watch the front door, and settled in for the wait.

It ended up being a very long wait.

Nothing happened. No one went in, and no one went out. Some kid with scruffy blonde hair and a bored expression tried to coin the side of my car until my growl notified him of the fact I was actually in the car. His expression and subsequent flight eased the boredom a little.

As five o'clock neared, I began to get a little restless, wondering if Jack had forgotten to get someone in to replace me. The thought had barely crossed my mind when my phone rang.

"Riley," Benson said, "Jack says if you don't start leaving the comlink on when you're working, he'll replace it with one you can't turn off."

I hurriedly pressed said comlink, but didn't bother apologizing. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing. Talvin's in place at Vinny's if you want to leave for your meeting with Dia."

"Thanks for letting me know."

"You don't have to thank me for doing my job."

But his tone suggested he appreciated it. I hung up, then tossed the phone into my bag and headed for Brunswick. I found parking several streets away from the restaurant and walked back. The sidewalk tables were all full and Dia wasn't at any of them. Meaning she more than likely had Risa with her, as the restaurant boasted a secure children's play area at the back of the main room. I'd barely walked through the door when the little girl in question came bounding out of the shadows, her white pigtails flying as she flung herself into my arms.

"Hey, monkey," I said, grinning as her chubby little arms wound themselves around my neck and she planted a slobbery kiss on my cheek. She smelled of soap and powder and everything that was good in this world. "How was swimming today?"

Her amazingly bright violet eyes twinkled with mischief. "Swimming sucked!"

I just about choked on my own laughter. Dia was going to kill me for teaching her that particular expression.

"I thought you loved the water?"

"Water sucks."

I bit down my grin as I walked through the restaurant. Dia was in the far corner, sitting in a booth near the large play area. She was, as usual, both immaculate and stunning. Her hair, like her daughter's, was a pure whitish-silver hair that shone with an almost unnatural brilliance, and when combined with the luminous blue of her eyes and the matching brightness of her summer dress, she was hard to miss.

Of course, neither the blue of Dia's eyes nor her silver hair were natural. Dia wasn't only a psychic, but a clone with Helki shapeshifting genes, and she could subtly alter her appearance as easily as I could become a wolf. The silver and blue suited her psychic business better—and enabled her to use her true form when she didn't want to be noticed.

Little Risa's coloring was natural, and had obviously come from her father, although Dia never talked about him. Nor was there mention of him on Risa's birth certificate.

Dia's gaze met mine as I neared the table. Few would have guessed she was blind, because there was an amazing directness in her gaze. Of course, despite her blindness, she could see, thanks to the presence of a creature known as a Fravardin—an unseen guardian spirit that was by her side whenever she went outside the confines of her house. By linking lightly to the creature's mind, Dia was able to move with a serenity and grace that belied her handicap. I had no idea where the creature was right now, but given she was looking directly at me, it had to be somewhere close.

"You," she said heavily, "have created a monster."

"Who knew she'd take the word up with such gusto?" I slid into the u-shaped booth and untwined Risa's arms from around my neck, putting her on the seat beside me.

"Coke?" she said hopefully.

"I don't think your mom would approve," I said. Especially not right now.

I half expected the little girl to come out with the immortal 'Mommy Sucks', but she leaned forward on the table and gave Dia the sweetest of smiles. "Please mommy?" she said, the bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

The child really knew how to work it. I grinned and leaned back in the seat, watching Dia struggle to control her smile.

"A small one," she said, "and only if you go play for a while."

Risa flung herself at Dia, gave her a big slobbery kiss, then scrambled over her and ran for the play equipment.

"That child is going to be so dangerous to the male population when she gets older," I said, shoving my handbag on the seat beside me.

"Especially given she seems to think you're a brilliant role model," Dia said dryly.

"Well, let's face it, she could do far worse as role models go. At least I work on the side of the angels,"

"Yes." Dia's expression darkened. "I'm not sure she will, though."

I frowned. "You've had a vision about her future?"

She nodded. "It was a little confused. There were angels and demons and goodness knows what else."

"Angels?" I had no trouble believing that demons existed—after all, I'd crossed paths with hellhounds on several occasions, and they were apparently classified as low level demons—but for some reason, I couldn't quite believe that angels really existed. But maybe it was simply a lack of solid proof. I hadn't really believed in demons, either—until one of them had tried to rip me to shreds.

But angel—like creatures had existed, and they'd been called the Aedh. Quinn's father had been a priest of the Aedh, and while Quinn might not have gotten the wings, he did have many of their abilities. Although just how many—and what they were—was something he'd never really explained.

Still, no surprise there. He might have opened up a whole lot more in recent months, but my sexy old vampire still had many, many secrets.

"Which is why I needed to talk to you," Dia said.

"Me?" I glanced up as the waitress appeared at our table. Once we'd placed our orders, I added, "I don't know a whole lot about men with wings, I'm afraid."

She smiled. "You know more than me, though. Or rather, Quinn does."

I raised an eyebrow. "So Dia's father was an Aedh?"

"If that's what you call one of those men with wings, then yes."

"I didn't even know they still existed," I murmured. "How the hell did you even meet him?"

She smiled again, but there was suddenly something haunted in her eyes. "Sometimes there are personal bonuses when you talk to the spirit world."

"And personal costs?" I said softly.

"Yeah." She grimaced. "I might have got my daughter, but I saw my death. It's not pretty."

"But you have the Fravadin to protect you."

"There are some things that not even the Fravadin can conquer."

As evidenced by the fact that Misha—her clone brother—had been murdered despite the protection of his own Fravardin.

I studied her for a moment, concerned. "It's not going to be soon, is it?"

"No. Risa will be well grown by the time it happens."

"At least that's something." Although it would be hell to live with that knowledge. Personally, I'd rather not know. "So how does one go about meeting one of the elusive Aedh?"

"I met mine in a bar." She shrugged. "One night, and I was pregnant."

"And you haven't seen him since?"

"No, but Risa's talents are growing at an extraordinary rate. She needs more guidance than I can give her."

"Which is where Quinn comes in."

"Yes." Her gaze swept my face. "Do you think he will mind?"

I didn't think kids were on Quinn's list of top ten things to experience, but he hadn't actually been adverse to the idea of my kid coming into his life, so maybe my vampire was getting accustomed to the idea. "I'll ask and find out."

"Thank you." She squeezed my hand, and some of the tension riding her shoulders seemed to dissipate. "Now, how can I help you?"

Now that the moment had arrived to talk about Kye, I suddenly found myself reluctant to do so. As if keeping him secret would make the situation any better. With a wry smile at my own stupid avoidance, I said, "You know about the beheadings?"

"I think you'd have to be living in a sealed box not to know about them." She crossed her arms on the table. "That's the case you're investigating?"

"Yes, unfortunately." I smiled a thank you up at the waitress as she deposited our drinks and banana cake.

Risa appeared from nowhere, clambering over her mother in her haste to get to her Coke. With the straw in her mouth and her chubby cheeks glowing, she looked a picture of bliss as she downed her drink.

I spooned a mouthful of the luscious cake and probably had a similar look of bliss on my face. "We really haven't got a lot to go on, but we need to get this case solved—and fast."

"Before the vampire and the humans start taking aim at each other, no doubt."

"Preferably, yes. Although it's not actually humans doing the killing, but another vampire."

Dia raised a pale eyebrow. "Really? That's not what the papers are saying."

"Which is why you should never believe everything you read."

She frowned. "Why hasn't the information been released? It would surely diffuse the situation."

"We only just discovered it. I dare say Jack will make a press conference his next priority."

"But you still need a quick solve, just in case the public decide not to believe what is printed?"

"Exactly." I took another bite of cake. "Right now, I have no concrete clues and I'm willing to give anything a try."

Surprise flitted through her bright eyes. "Meaning you're willing to let me give you a reading?"

I hesitated. I might be discussing the case, but I'd really come here to sound her out about Kye. And letting her do a reading might just reveal a whole lot more about my soul mate than I really wanted to know. And yet, what choice did I have? If she could find something useful to stop these murders, then uncovering more about Kye was a small price to pay. "Usual restrictions apply. I do not want to know what the future holds."

"You know I can't always control where the visions go."

"I know. I just don't want to hear the nitty-gritty details of just what might happen to my love-life in my future." I waved the spoon at her. "I'd rather muddle along at my own speed."

"I can understand, given the future I've been shown." She took a sip of coffee, then pushed it to one side. "Give me your hand."

She held out a hand, palm up. I took a large gulp of coffee to fortify myself, then placed my hand in hers. Her eyes closed and her fingers wrapped around mine. Her skin was cool initially, but electricity soon surged, jumping from her skin to mine and spreading up my arm like wildfire. It made the made the hairs on my arms stand on end and my pulse race, and it felt like her essence was somehow entwining around mine. It was a merging that was both metaphysical and ghostly, and stronger than anything she'd done before. The wolf inside instinctively bared her teeth, ready to fight against the intruder, but this was a force I'd invited in, and I couldn't back away from it now.

She shuddered. "I see the murders. The papers didn't report half of it, did they?"

"No." My reply was soft. I knew from experience that if I spoke too loudly, it seemed to jar her out of the moment.

"There is a lot of hatred in those killings. And a fair bit of revenge." She paused. "Look to the vampire council, to old decisions. This began seven months ago. It is not a recent thing."

"You can't tell who or what sparked this?"

"No." She tilted her head slightly and added, "You need to be careful."

"Dia, don't—"

Her grip on my fingers tightened, even though I made no move to pull my hand from hers. "There is a player in your life at the moment. He is more dangerous than you think or know."

No prizes for guessing who that was. "I know—"

"No, you don't," she said, voice suddenly fierce. "He is a man without heart, without conscience, and he threatens people you care about. He will kill. You need to tread softly around him, and never, ever trust him."

"I don't. Believe me on that."

Her bright gaze flew open and pinned me. "You need to walk away from him. Now, before it is too late."

She actually sounded scared, and that was scaring the hell out of me. What on earth had she seen? I might have said I didn't want to know, but was the not knowing any better? Suddenly, I didn't think so.

"I can't, Dia. He's my wolf soul mate."

"Oh, God." Her fingers were clasped tightly around mine now, this time free of energy beyond the tension I could feel in her. "Fate really does have it in for you, doesn't she?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I'd said it so often myself that it just sounded so funny hearing it on someone else's lips. "Yeah, she really does."

Dia's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Cling to what you have with Quinn. Use that link to fight the wolf one. It will give you a strength most other wolves would not have in this situation."

I raised my eyebrows. "Are there actually other wolves out there who hate their soul mates?"

"Not hate, perhaps, but there are certainly those who are disappointed." She shrugged. "We all have our dreams and desires, and fate doesn't always deliver."

As I'd discovered time and again. I hesitated, and then asked the question that I feared the most. "Who does he kill?"

Her gaze darkened. "I didn't see. You just need to be very careful around him. He is playing a game, and while I can't see his end goal, I sense it is a dangerous one for you." Her fingers crushed mine. "Please, please, be careful."

"I will. I promise."

"Good." She squeezed my fingers a final time, then released them and picked up her coffee. It was frightening to see her hand was still shaking in reaction to whatever she'd seen.

Meaning she'd seen a whole lot more than she'd ever admit.

I suddenly lost my appetite for cake and picked up my coffee. It didn't do a whole lot to warm the sudden chill.

Still, I'd known the moment I agreed to the reading that this could happen. And she warned me often enough that she would not hold back on what she saw.

And yet she was, and that was the scariest thing of all.

I glanced at my watch and saw it was nearing six. Time for me to get going, or I'd be late for my date with Quinn. I gulped down the rest of my coffee, scalding my insides for the second time that day, then retrieved my credit card from my purse.

. "I need to go," I said, swiping the card through the slot and punching in our table number. "I've got dinner with Quinn, so I'll ask him about taking Risa under his wing."

The little girl looked up at the sound of her name, and gave me a cheeky smile. "Risa doesn't suck."

Dia rolled her eyes. "Indeed not."

I laughed and stood up. "Usual time on Thursday?"

"Yes. And this time, my treat. You pay enough, and I know it doesn't always go on the Directorate account."

I shrugged and leaned across the table to give Risa a quick kiss on the top of the head. "Bye, monkey."

"Bye," she said, enthusiastically waving for all of three seconds before she grabbed her straw and began a final assault on her Coke.

I grinned and slid out of the booth. But I'd barely taken a step when Dia said softly, "Riley, make sure that when you shoot, you shoot to kill."

It was an echo of the warning Kye had given me, and it chilled me to the bone.

But I didn't stop to ask why. I just got the hell out of there before she said anything else.