Moon Sworn

Chapter 5

I hesitated for a heartbeat, then strolled out. She might have spotted me, but she hadn’t yet started screaming for help. That was something, I guess.

I didn’t change shape immediately, though. There was always an off chance she just liked talking to seagulls, so I pecked at something disgusting on the carpet and tried to act birdlike.

“I like the attempt,” she said, casually drawing on the cigarette again, “but I’m sensitive to weres and shifters, and I felt you out on the sill. Shift shape and talk to me, or I’ll scream for help. And I’m figuring you don’t want that if you’re sneaking in through windows.”

Given little other choice, I shifted shape, then sat on the chaise longue. My T-shirt hadn’t fared much better than the other shirt, forcing me to tie the ends together to stop my breasts from falling out.

“What are you?” she asked, her gaze sweeping me critically. “You can obviously take on bird form, but you feel like a wolf.”

“That’s because I am.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Lucky. So, why are you here?”

“That depends on how fast you want to run downstairs and report my presence to the guard.”

“Ah. Well.” She sat up and swung her legs around. She was naked, but as uncaring as a wolf. Which was unusual for someone who smelled human, but I guess in her line of business, you’d lose your modesty early. “I earn fifty bucks for twenty minutes in this dump. Pay me that, and my lips are sealed.”

I heard nothing but truth in her words and her mind. So I reached into my pocket, retrieved my wallet, and pulled out fifty bucks. But I flipped the note away as she reached for it. “I want honest answers. And I can tell truth from lies.”

“Deal. Though I may not know what you want.”

“Fair enough.” I let her have the cash. “What can you tell me about apartment 404?”

She raised a well-plucked eyebrow. “Only that it’s off limits for us ladies.”

“But that hasn’t stopped you from being curious, has it?”

She smiled. “No.” She paused to take a drag on her cigarette. “There’s two men who head up there regularly. One is a werewolf, the other is a shifter of some kind. A bird, I think, from his scent.”

“Can you give me descriptions?”

She shrugged. “They’re men. Leaner and fitter than the bozos I service, but still men. The wolf has brown hair and brown eyes, the other is a blondie with green eyes.”

“And how do they walk?”

She smiled. “Like men you wouldn’t want to tangle with. Are you a cop?”

“Guardian.”

“Meaning things just might get interesting around here.”

“That depends on what, exactly, is in that room.”

“Well, I can tell you they walk upstairs with nothing and come back down with notes. And a phone rings up there a lot.”

“You’ve never heard voices up there, or seen anyone else enter the room?”

“Nope. And the rest of the rooms are storage, from what I’ve heard.”

“What about security?”

“Camera on the stairs going up. Probably an electronic lock, too, because I’ve heard the beeps. Other than that, I can’t say.”

I was betting the camera was an infrared. Given all the technology on the roof, it would be pretty pointless putting anything else in.

“Who watches the camera? The guard in the hall?”

“I doubt it. Frankie is asleep more often than not.”

I raised an eyebrow, amusement playing around my lips. “So he’s a visual deterrent more than a physical one?”

“Basically. Although I wouldn’t want to get him annoyed—he’s got muscles on his muscles.”

Which didn’t mean a thing if you didn’t know how to use them. “There’s no other security anywhere?”

“Not that I’ve seen, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t.”

“What about backup systems?”

“Other than Frankie, I don’t think there are any.” She shrugged. “The power grid is pretty stable here, so I don’t suppose they think it’s necessary.”

And that at least gave us a way in. “What about the owner?”

“T.J.? He only comes here once a week to pay wages. Vonnie handles the day-to-day stuff.”

“She got a last name?”

“None of us have last names,” she drawled. “Not unless you pay more.”

Not a chance when we could search through the business registrars. “Do you know if the windows upstairs are locked?”

She shook her head. “But half the catches in this dump don’t work, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the same applies upstairs.” She contemplated me for a minute, then added, “The windows are too heavy for your bird form, and the sill would be a hell of a balancing act for your human one.”

“That’s never stopped me before.”

“Heard that about you lot.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m expected downstairs in ten minutes for my next customer. Unless you’ve got any more questions, I need to get cleaned up.”

I rose. “What time do those men usually come to check the upstairs room?”

“They’re due this afternoon. They usually get here about two.” She smiled. “For another fifty bucks, I’ll leave the window and the door open in case you need it.”

“You’re a shark in disguise,” I said, nevertheless getting my wallet back out.

“A girl has to live,” she drawled.

I guess she did. And while the conditions here weren’t top notch, at least there was security, and she wasn’t on the street. That had to be a good thing.

“I’ll try not to disturb you when I come back in.”

She snorted. “Did I look as if I’d mind being disturbed?”

I grinned. “Thanks for your help.”

“Cass,” she said. “My name is Cass.”

“Thanks, Cass.”

She nodded, then opened the dresser drawer, grabbing a little tin and tucking the cash inside. I shifted shape and in seagull form flew out the window, circling the building and checking out the different top-floor windows before heading for the side street. I changed shape, adjusted my clothes, then walked back to my car. But I didn’t get in, grabbing my cell phone out of my pocket instead. I pressed Quinn’s number and waited impatiently for him to answer.

“Well, hello,” he drawled, the gentle Irish lilt in his voice sounding oh-so sexy. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

“I’ve been visiting a brothel,” I said, imagining his expression and smiling at the image.

“And I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for it,” he said, “even though I can’t really think of one.”

“It had a phone.”

“Most of them do.”

I laughed. “This phone is the contact number for a bunch of hit men for hire.”

“Interesting.” His voice was dry. “So why are you calling me?”

“Because I need food and sex, and not necessarily in that order. I figured you might be interested in sating one or both of those desires.”

“You figured right. Where would you like said sating to occur?”

“Somewhere not too fancy. I need to be back at the brothel by one-thirty, so I haven’t got time to go home and change. And several shape-shifts has shredded the last spare T-shirt I have in the car.”

“Which is a look I quite enjoy,” he said. “I take it you’re close to the city?”

“St. Kilda.”

“Excellent. There’s a small spa in Acland Street that does a great lunch and spa treatment regimen. I’ll send you the address and meet you there in twenty minutes.”

“But I don’t want—”

“Riley, trust me.”

“Okay,” I grumbled. “But you know how bitchy I can get when my hungers aren’t satisfied.”

He laughed. The warm sound flowed through me like a caress. “Trust me, love, I aim to satisfy us both.”

“Well, good.” I glanced at my watch. “I’ll see you in twenty.”

“You will.”

He hung up, and I rang Jack. “Boss,” I said, the minute he answered, “that land line is located on the top floor of a brothel, and the whole floor is bristling with electronic security.”

“Meaning they’re hiding something,” he said. “Can you break in, or do you want some professional help?”

“Well, I’m thinking that electronic security usually needs electricity to work, so would it be possible to arrange a little blackout in the area around two?”

“It’ll take out the entire block, but yeah, it can be done.” He paused. “We ran a trace on the number. The phone is listed as belonging to the brothel. The owner of said brothel is one T. J. Hart. We’re trying to track down an address for him.”

That raised my eyebrows. “It isn’t on the business registration?”

“It’s a post office box.”

I frowned. “I didn’t think it was legal to do that. I thought it had to be a street address.”

“Normally, it does.”

Meaning T.J. either knew someone or had paid someone. Which meant he had money or connections that weren’t obvious from the condition of his business.

“He has no license or police record,” Jack continued. “The tax office has his address listed as Fitzroy, but the house was razed for apartments earlier this year.”

Meaning he could be missing or simply didn’t want to be found. I made a mental note to check with Cass this afternoon, then said, “Is it possible to put a tap on the phone?”

“It’s in the pipeline, so make sure you leave no trace of your presence.”

Which meant scent, if we were dealing with another were. I frowned and glanced at my watch, wondering if I could get to Liander’s workshop and back to St. Kilda in twenty minutes. I knew he kept scent-erasing soap there, simply because he often redid my look for undercover operations, and scent erasure was a vital part of that. I might be pushing it time-wise, but it had to be done.

“There are two men who regularly collect the messages,” I said. “I’ll try to get pics of them today, and send them through.”

“Good. And we don’t think this is a one-off. There’s a report coming out of Sydney about a brutal murder that bears striking similarities to our case.”

“Meaning the victim was a recently released, long-term prisoner?”

“Yeah. We’re trying to get full details at the moment.”

“It might also be worth working up a list of recently released or about-to-be-released long-term inmates.” If this was the beginning of a murder spree, such a list might help us save some lives.

“We’re onto that, too,” Jack commented. “We’ve already located two possibilities—two men were released from Perth penitentiary three weeks ago. One has since relocated to his hometown in Dunedan—which is in the middle of Western Australia—and the other went to Brisbane.”

“I gather you’ve contacted the Directorate divisions in Brisbane and Perth, and warned them there might be trouble?”

“Yes. And I’ve also sent requests to all Directorate divisions to provide us with information on any crimes of a similar nature. We expect to get some hits. An organization this well protected probably won’t be targeting just criminals.”

Not if they were advertising in local newspapers. “This must be a new operation, though. Otherwise, we’d surely have heard of them before now.”

“Not necessarily. If they’ve kept their operations interstate until now, there would have been no reason for us to be notified. Each division is basically autonomous.”

Yet they’d all come from the one source—Melbourne—and I was betting Director Hunter kept a close eye on the other divisions. The Directorate was her baby, after all.

“I’m going to lunch now, boss, but I’ll be back at the brothel by one-thirty.”

“Okay, but I want you to return to the Directorate after that. You need to write up the report for the murder and the shooting incident.”

I wrinkled my nose. I hated paperwork at the best of times. And, I thought, with a wash of sadness, there was now no Kade to sweet-talk into helping me.

“Will do,” I said, and hung up. My phone beeped notification of an incoming message. It was the address Quinn had promised. I opened the car door and fired up the onboard computer, switching it to navigation and typing in the address. It turned out I could probably walk there in less than five minutes.

I turned off the computer and locked the car, then once again shifted shape. With all this flying, my arms were starting to get a little tired, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. There was no way on this Earth I was going to drive to Liander’s workshop and then back to St. Kilda in the twenty minutes I had. Not with traffic the way it was.

Of course, the skies had traffic of a different kind, and between avoiding the flocks of seagulls and pigeons—

which always went somewhat crazy when I neared them—and the strengthening wind, I was a few minutes late getting back to the Acland Street spa.

I pulled my outfit together the best I could, then strolled through the old bluestone gateway that was the main entrance to the spa. The good thing about being in St. Kilda was that no one really took any notice of what you were wearing—or almost wearing. The strange and outlandish were common around here, and not even the receptionist batted an eyelid as I strolled into the foyer.

“How may I help you?” Her voice was deep and rich, and oddly in tune with the opulent foyer.

“Riley Jenson. I’m here to meet Mr. O’Conor.” Though I kept my voice soft, it seemed to echo in the lush stillness of the place.

“Ah, yes,” she said, and pressed a button.

I heard no bell, but two seconds later, a thin brown woman appeared out of a side door and gave me a welcoming smile. “Ms. Jenson,” she said, “if you’ll just follow me, Mr. O’Conor is waiting.”

Her words swirled through me, oddly reminding me of the people who weren’t waiting. Kade. Kye. The bitter darkness rose, but I shoved it back ruthlessly. I had a man who loved me—and whom I loved—waiting for me. It was enough.

No, that dark part whispered. It isn’t.

I ignored it and continued to follow the woman.

We went through a different door, and the smell of chlorinated water began to dominate. But underneath that ran tantalizing wisps of vanilla, orange, and spices.

“This is the spa treatment area,” the woman said, obviously doing the guided tour. “The message therapy rooms are in the other wing. If you’d like a treatment after your spa, we can arrange that easily.” Her gaze skated down to my hands. “The two-hour hand and foot ritual is very relaxing.”

I followed her gaze. My nails weren’t that bad. Well, okay, the polish was chipped and my nails a little rough, but they didn’t deserve the sort of look she was giving them.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said mildly, although I was betting this place was way out of my price range.

She nodded, then knocked on the last door before opening it. “Mr. O’Conor, Ms. Jenson has arrived.”

“Thanks, Sasha.”

Sasha nodded, then closed the door behind me. I raised an eyebrow at Quinn. “You’re on a first-name basis?”

He smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

“Depends on why you’re on first-name terms.”

He laughed and walked around the bubbling pool that dominated the room. His feet were bare, and each step slapped softly against the dark marble floors, the sound oddly in tune with the water. The walls behind him were a warm brown and the fittings on the spa gold. Basically, the whole room screamed opulence. But even so, there was nothing in the room as sumptuous as the vampire who walked toward me. Not even the delicious scent of ham and fresh breads rising from the buffet tucked into the corner behind me could tempt my gaze away from him.

My nostrils flared, drawing in the rich aroma of him as he drew closer, then he took me in his arms and kissed me. Not sweetly, not softly, but with all the hunger of a man in need. I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss in kind, and for many minutes there was nothing but this kiss and this man and the need that rose like a bonfire between us.

He finally pulled back, his eyes aglow with desire. “To answer your question,” he said, “a friend of mine couldn’t raise enough financing to open this place, so I invested. I know the staff because I’m a silent partner.”

“So that’s why you could get this room on such short notice.”

“I’m certainly not above abusing my position if the need arises.”

My gaze swept across his clothed body, coming to rest on his groin. “And it certainly looks to me like the need has arisen.”

“It has. Shall we retire to the water?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

I shucked off my clothes, then watched Quinn do the same. Once naked, he took my hand then helped me step into the tub. The water smelled faintly of chlorine, but it wasn’t overpowering, and the bubbly warmth quickly worked its magic on my body, making me feel more relaxed than I had in ages.

I sank down into it with a sigh of pleasure. “This was a good idea.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He floated over to me, a teasing smile on his lips and heat in his eyes. “But I thought you’d come here to have more basic needs sated …”

“Maybe the water is enough,” I teased, entwining my legs around his body and drawing him closer. The spicy, luscious odor of him, rich with the scent of desire, swam around me, enhancing my need.

I smiled and pressed myself against him, enjoying his warmth and his closeness.

“Meaning I shouldn’t kiss you senseless?” he murmured.

His lips were so close I could almost taste them. Almost. It was like being offered chocolate but not being able to eat it. And it made me want him even more fiercely.

“Meaning,” I replied, the quaver in my voice all desire, “you should only kiss me if you really, really want to.”

“Oh, wanting has never been a problem when it comes to you,” he murmured.

His hand slid around my waist, his fingers pressing heat into my spine as he pulled me even closer to his warm, hard body.

The kiss was heat and desire and love all entwined into one luscious package, and it said everything there was to say without words.

Then his lips moved on, exploring, teasing. My throat, my shoulders, my breasts. I returned the attention in kind, nipping and exploring the hard planes of his body, until the rich smell of lust razed the air and my whole body burned for him.

When his cock slipped slowly but deeply inside, I moaned in pleasure. Then he began to move, and all I could do was move with him, savoring and enjoying the sensations flowing through me. Enjoying the completeness—

a completeness that was heart and mind as well as body. And yet an awareness lurked in the deep, dark recesses of me, a hunger that could never be satisfied now that Kye was gone.

But as long as I had this, as long as I had Quinn, I could find a way to survive.

He took his time, stroking deeply as he licked and nipped and kissed. But the little waves of water began to flow away from our bodies with ever-increasing speed as our movements became more and more urgent. The sweet pressure began to build low in my stomach, fanning through the rest of me in waves as rapid as those that surrounded us, becoming a molten force that made me tremble, twitch, groan.

His breathing became harsh, his tempo more urgent. His fierceness pushed me into a place where only sensation existed, and then he pushed me beyond it.

He came with me, his teeth entering my neck at the same time, sharpening and prolonging the orgasm, until my body was trembling with exhaustion and utter satisfaction.

For several minutes afterward we didn’t move, just allowed the warm bubbly water to caress our skins. Then he stirred and gave me a sweet, gentle kiss.

“I suppose I should now let you tend to the second of your needs.”

I draped my arms loosely around his neck. “I don’t think I have the energy to move right now.”

“Well, we can’t have you starving to death. I like my women with meat on their bones, thank you very much.”

With that, he slipped his hands under my body and lifted me up. I laughed in delight and kissed his cheek. “So, if I was as naturally skinny as most werewolves, you wouldn’t love me?”

“Oh, I’d still love you,” he said, dark eyes twinkling as he climbed out of the tub. “I’d just always be trying to fatten you up. But as luck would have it, my girl normally has luscious curves. I just want them back.”

With a smile teasing my lips, I began to kiss and nip his neck and earlobe. “That could cost you, you know,” I murmured. “Because I have quite an appetite.”

“Oh, I think I’m more than capable of catering to your appetites.”

And over the next hour or so, he did indeed prove more than capable.

I t was almost one forty-five by the time I got back to the brothel. I flew up to a rooftop on the opposite side of the road, then shifted shape and found a position behind a billboard that provided shadowy cover yet allowed me to see what was going on down the street.

For the next fifteen minutes, nothing happened. Several clients came out, but none went in. Maybe midafternoon was a slow time.

At two—right on time—the lights in all the nearby buildings went out. And there wasn’t a bad guy in sight. I cursed softly and briefly wondered if Cass had played me. But I’d felt no lie in her words or in her thoughts, so either she was better than a vampire at concealing lies, or the two men hadn’t turned up for other reasons.

Which would be just my luck.

I continued to wait, silently hoping Jack could keep the power grid down for long enough.

At two-ten, a battered-looking brown station wagon cruised by slowly. It turned around at the end of the street then came back, pulling into a parking spot several doorways down from the brothel. Two men got out—one brown-haired, the other blond.

Cass hadn’t lied.

I took out my phone and began taking pictures. The blond moved toward the brothel, but the brown-haired guy remained near the car, his gaze sweeping the surrounding buildings. Though I knew he wasn’t likely to spot me in the shadows of the billboard, I still drew them closer around me. Better safe than sorry—especially when you had red hair.

When I looked back over the building’s edge, the blond was just disappearing into the brothel and the wolf was leaning against the back of the car, his arms and feet crossed, the picture of casualness. Only his ever-alert expression and the tension evident in his body suggested otherwise. I took a final picture to make sure I got the plate number, then carefully moved backward. Once I’d pocketed my phone, I shifted shape again and circled around the block, coming at the brothel from the rear.

On closer inspection, the broken window I’d noticed earlier would barely provide enough room for a sparrow to get through, let alone a seagull.

I swore—which came out as a harsh squawk—then shifted shape. My T-shirt—or what was left of it—fell from my shoulders, and my jeans were looking decidedly worse for wear. I swore again as the wind swirled around me, freezing my skin and buffeting my body. The windowsills in this old building might have been deeper than usual, but that didn’t mean they were any less precarious. I teetered for several seconds, trying to gain balance. Trying to ignore the old fears that rose in a rush every time I looked at the drop below me. Such fears were totally ridiculous, because my seagull shape now meant drops of any length no longer had the power to hurt me, but I guess some fears were just too ingrained to be easily erased.

I checked the window for wires and sensors, but couldn’t see any, so I dug my fingernails under the sill and lifted it upward. Cass had been right about the locks—this one basically fell apart as the window slid open. I slipped inside, dropping to the floor softly, my senses alert for anything and anyone.

The first thing I spotted was the camera in the far corner, but it was pointed at the other wall and wasn’t moving. Temporarily cutting the power had worked—at least in this case. I just had to hope they didn’t have backups on the other systems.

The air was stale and smelled faintly of urine—but whether it was human or animal in origin, I couldn’t say. Although the little pellets littering the floor suggested at least one possum had taken up residence. I wondered how they’d gotten in without triggering the security system. Obviously, the little buggers were smarter than me. The room itself held little else but empty shelving units that were thick with dust and webs. I shut the window—

just in case the power came back on at the wrong time—then padded forward, avoiding loose-looking floorboards and possum poop as much as possible.

Once at the door, I wrapped my fingers around the handle but didn’t immediately open it. Instead, I switched my vision to infrared. A quick sweep of the rooms beyond the door revealed life in a room near the front of the building. That had to be the blond shifter—and given he was supposed to be a bird of some kind, it was worth the risk of stepping out. The wolf might have smelled me, but birds generally didn’t have great olfactory senses. And these rooms, like the ones below, weren’t very bright, which meant the shadows lay thick in the corners. With any luck, I could hide in those shadows.

I twisted the handle and opened the door, but just as I did, the shifter moved, his body heat showing him stepping through the doorway. I froze, half in and half out of the room, hoping the shadows were enough to conceal me.

He glanced my way, then stopped, and his sense of alertness increased twofold. He drew his gun and pressed a button on his lapel.

“Greg, we have an open door on one of the storerooms. I’m going to check it out.”

Meaning he hadn’t spotted me yet, but if I didn’t do something real quick, he would. The shadows weren’t strong enough to hold up under any sort of close scrutiny. Not when it was daylight, anyway.

But rather than step back, I hit him telepathically, slipping into his mind as silently and as efficiently as any vampire. I wrapped ghostly fingers around his control centers, stopping his movements and washing any awareness that something was wrong from his mind.

Then, knowing I didn’t have much time before his partner started getting suspicious, I rummaged quickly through his thoughts. His name was James Cutter, and both he and the wolf worked for the Melbourne division of an organization known as Revanche. Cutter didn’t know who owned or ran the organization, but the man they reported to was one Dillion Pavane. I searched for more information, but he didn’t really have much. There were no offices located in Melbourne, as far as this man knew. They always met in bars, and never the same bars. He was paid in cash—another rarity in this day and age. He was also sick of the courier duties—which involved checking the various phones situated throughout the suburbs—and eager to make his first kill.

Meaning whoever was behind this organization didn’t trust anybody.

I grabbed my phone and quickly typed in all the locations of the other phones, then placed the image of a closed door and a conviction that nothing was out of place other than a smashed window in his mind. With that done, I turned him around and released him.

For the barest of seconds, he paused, as if wondering what the hell he was doing, then the suggestions I’d put in his mind took hold, and he touched his lapel communicator again. “There’s a smashed window in back storeroom number three,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

He paused, listening to the comment from the other end, then added, “How the fuck do I know how the door opened? Maybe the catch is broken, like everything else in this dump. The main thing is, no one can get in or out, except those damn possums.”

Again he paused, then added, “Yeah, I erased the tape after I took the notes. Don’t fucking worry.”

He turned and walked away. I waited until the door slammed, then glanced down at the handle in my hand and snapped it off. When the men came back, they’d be expecting a broken door lock, so I’d better provide it.

As I turned around, the power came back on, cutting off any chance of investigating the other rooms. I just couldn’t risk it when the whine of the camera beginning to rotate filled the dusty silence. And who knew what other security measures were in place that I hadn’t yet spotted. Jack would be less than impressed if I inadvertently let them know we were onto them.

I quickly closed the door then shifted shape—half wondering as I did so whether I was going to have any remnants of clothing left by the time I got back to the car.

The camera had already begun its rotation back toward the door, and was almost at the window. If I didn’t go now, they’d see the window, realize it wasn’t actually smashed as the shifter had said, and start to wonder why he’d lied. And if they had a decent enough telepath on their team, he’d probably uncover traces of my presence in the shifter’s mind.

I couldn’t take that chance.

I jumped forward, flapping my wings as hard as I could, aiming for the tiny hole in the middle of the glass. At the last moment, I closed my eyes and tucked my wings together, bracing for the impact. I hit with speed, shattering the glass and spraying it outward. Which might make them wonder how, exactly, the glass had broken, but I couldn’t help that. The jagged edges of glass scoured my side, tearing past feathers and into skin. Then I was out in the open air and tumbling downward. Panic rose just for a moment, then I spread my wings and began to fly, swooping past several rooftops as I curved around to the front of the building. I perched on the nearest rooftop, briefly shifting to my wolf shape and back again to stop the bleeding, then took to wing again.

The men were in the car, driving away. I followed them for a couple of streets, then swung around and flew into Cass’s window. I needed to question her a little more about her boss.

She was with another man, but the door was open as she’d promised. Given that I didn’t particularly want to watch her in action again, I sauntered through the door to have a look around. The hallway beyond was long and shadowy, and there were four doors leading off it. One was closed, but the other three were open and the rooms empty. I walked to the stairway and looked up. The camera sat above the landing, and was indeed an infrared.

It seemed a lot of trouble to go to for what was basically little more than a phone depot, but then I hadn’t explored the other rooms, so who knew what was in those?

I suspected it wouldn’t be much. Even though it had been Surrey’s soul that had given us the lead, Surrey himself would probably have done so had he lived—even if he’d done it unwillingly, via a telepathic raid. We would have found this place—and this phone—one way or another, and I very much suspected they’d be ready for such an event.

I went back to the room. Cass’s client was just finishing up, so I waited until he left, then shifted to my human shape.

“Couple of nasty-looking wounds you have there,” Cass drawled, swinging her legs around and sitting up on the bed.

“Glass will do that,” I said. “I don’t suppose you know where T. J. Hart lives, do you?”

She raised an eyebrow, amusement glimmering in her eyes. “It’s not listed on the business registration?”

“Apparently not.” I plopped down on the chaise longue and tried to ignore the stale scents rising from it. “I’ll give you another thirty for the information, because that’s all I’ve got.”

She considered me for a moment, then said, “How much trouble is T.J. in? Because as much as the clients suck, this is a reasonably secure and clean place to work.”

I hesitated. “It depends on whether he’s merely renting the room or actively involved in what is going on.”

“Well, I know he raised a hell of a fuss about the shit they put on the roof, so I suspect his only involvement is a pocket-level one.” She held out a hand. “Payment first. You look the trustworthy type, but I’ve been fooled before.”

I dug out my wallet and handed over the last of my cash.

She tucked the cash into her tin, then gave me a smile. “T.J. lives down the road in Elwood. He likes to be near his investments.”

She grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote down the address before handing it to me.

I shoved the scrap into my pocket. “So he has more than one brothel?”

“Yeah. The other one is in Caulfield. It’s a little more upmarket. I used to work there when I was younger.” She shrugged, like age and demotion weren’t really a problem.

“Can I ask why you’re still in the business? I mean, you seem pretty savvy, and I suspect you could get a job doing something else easily.”

“I trained as a personal assistant and I’m a damned good one, so there’s no doubt that I could. But the money here is good, I can set my own hours, and medical is included.” She shrugged again. “Another year or so, and I’ll probably open my own—”

She paused and cocked her head sideways. “T.J.’s just walked into the building.”

“He’s a shifter?”

She nodded, amusement playing around her lips. “Unfortunately for him, his alternate form is less than exciting. He’s a hare.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “A hare?”

“Yeah. It does explain his penchant for the sex business, though.” She paused again, then frowned. “Those men are back. The bird-shifter—”

The rest of her sentence was cut off by two short, sharp gunshots.