“No, I wasn’t,” he said. “I was being harassed by my PA because someone was using Directorate resources without permission.”
Ah, so I’d been right. The caramel cow
had
been in his ear. “Boss, if you’d just fuck the woman and get it over with, I’m sure all our lives would be a whole lot easier.”
He blinked, and as quickly as that, the anger rolled away. He laughed, a short, sharp sound that only hinted at the tension I could still feel in him. “You might be right there.”
“When it comes to sex advice, always listen to a werewolf. We don’t have many hang-ups to cloud our judgment.”
“Maybe.”
He studied me a moment longer, then stepped away. I beat a hasty retreat across the almost empty room. Rhoan and I were still the only official members of the daytime guardian squad. Kade was supposed to have been transferred from the military by now, but the endless rounds of paperwork were currently holding things up. Iktar, the featureless spirit lizard who’d played a part in bringing down Davern’s cloning and crossbreeding empire, was currently undergoing training and wouldn’t officially become a guardian for another ten months. Berna had refused Jack’s “offer” and gone home. And then there were Dia and Liander, who were on the books as “consultants” rather than guardians.
I perched on the edge of my brother’s desk and asked, “How’s the little girl?”
“Died last night in intensive. They haven’t found her parents, yet, either.”
Anger swirled through me, along with a sense of guilt. We’d tried our hardest to save her, but it had all been for naught. And Gautier was still out there, ready and willing to take more innocent lives. I rubbed a hand across gritty-feeling eyes, and asked, “Has the missing person’s register been consulted?”
“Yep,” Rhoan said. “No dice there.”
“The cops are well able to handle that situation,” Jack interrupted, voice holding an impatient edge. “What about we concentrate on our own work for a change?”
I looked at him. “So, what were you saying about resources being used without permission?”
Play innocent until all facts were on the table was my motto. Hell, I had no idea
what
he’d been told. Knowing Sal, it wouldn’t have been just the truth, but rather an embellishment that would make her look good and me bad. Why she felt this necessary I have no idea—it wasn’t like I was a threat to her ambitions of bedding Jack. I liked him as a person and a boss, but as a sexual partner? Never.
He poured himself a coffee from the dispensing machine and downed it in one gulp. If he’d been doing that for the last few hours, it could go a long way to explain his wired state.
“Why were you using Directorate sources to trace a car?” he asked.
“Because the car was tailing Quinn and myself. It’s downstairs, in the parking lot, by the way. And I did leave a message about it on your phone.”
“Ah,” Rhoan said, “so that explains the satisfied smile on your face as you waltzed in a minute ago.”
I glanced at him. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Why not, when you were with him?”
“Because I wasn’t with him for very long.”
“Then who were you with?”
“I told you this morning—Kellen. He decided a good body worshipping was in order last night, and I ended up staying at his place—a fact you would have known if you’d actually been home yourself.”
“Bitch.”
I wasn’t entirely sure whether that comment was aimed at my worshipping comment or the barb, but I decided to go with the former. “Hey, you’ve got a man more than willing to worship your bod. You’re just too chicken to go see him.”
“Children, please try and concentrate on the matter at hand rather than your conquests of the night before.”
I tried to restrain my grin and look dutifully interested in the topic at hand. Judging by the look Jack threw my way, I wasn’t very successful.
“Quinn has more than enough resources of his own to trace cars,” Jack continued. “Hell, he could probably get the information quicker than we could. You can’t just use the Directorate as your own personal information center.”
“Why not? I’ve been doing it for seven years as your PA.” I paused, then added, probably unwisely, “Did Sal do the background check on the owner?”
“Yeah, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Has the owner been contacted about the car? Reported it stolen?”
“No. And she’s not answering the phone. We’ll follow it up this morning.” He ran a hand across his bald head. “So tell me, what the hell were you up to last night?”
“We were being followed, as I said. We arranged a little trap in a side street to smoke them out, but when we got to the car, there was no one inside it.”
“So they escaped before you got there?”
“No one escaped from the car. No door was opened. They just vanished.”
He frowned. “That’s not possible.”
“Well, maybe it is for a human or nonhuman, but these things were apparently low-rank demons.”
“Demons?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “And just what led you to this conclusion?”
“Quinn told me.”
“Quinn told you they were
demons
?” Rhoan’s voice was edged with disbelief. “Why on earth would he do that?”
“Because he believed it to be true.” I looked back to Jack. “What do you know of a mob called the Aedh?”
He frowned. “The name rings a bell, but that’s about it. Why?”
“Because Quinn met with someone who claimed to be a high priest of Aedh. He sent Quinn off to uncover who was raising the demons.”
Jack’s frown deepened. “Quinn’s not the type to be ordered around.”
“Tell me about it.” Hell, I’d tried ordering him about numerous times, and the damned man just wouldn’t do as asked. Mind you,
not
doing what I asked had often led to great amounts of pleasure, so I was hardly in a position to bitch. “So, I guess my next question is, are demons
really
real?”
“And if they
are,
why are they loose in Melbourne and following Quinn?” Rhoan added.
Jack blew out a breath and began to pace the length of the room. Which wasn’t a whole lot of steps, as the room was one of the Directorate’s smaller conference rooms and had been designed to hold a maximum of twelve around a table. When Kade and Iktar and their desks were installed, it was going to be cozy. Not that I minded getting cozy with Kade. But Iktar—I repressed a shudder.
“Demons do exist,” Jack said, “but it usually takes a mage extremely strong in the art of blood magic to conjure one. I’ve never heard of any mage being able to conjure two or more.”
“Blood magic?” I raised an eyebrow. “You mean it’s not something they made up in fiction?”
“No. Blood magic is an extremely old form of magic that uses the blood of the conjurer to boost the power of the spell. But I haven’t heard of anyone doing it for years.” He swung around, his craggy face deep in thought. “You know, if we do have a mage loose in the city, we need to find out why.”
“Particularly with Quinn involved—”
“Quinn is more than able to take care of himself,” Jack cut in. “And whether or not there
is
a mage loose, it is not your problem. You two need to concentrate on catching the person behind the ritual murders.”
Being the multitalented person that I was, I pretty much figured I could do both. And I would, if only because I’d be damned if I’d let Quinn escape without explaining why he was obligated to go after the person raising the so-called demons. But I wisely kept quiet about my intentions—having Jack explode again wasn’t something I was planning to see anytime soon.
“Why can’t the two be connected? I mean, if a mage needs blood to raise these beasties, then wouldn’t it make more sense to use sacrifices rather than their own blood?”
“It is more powerful for a mage to use his own blood rather than a sacrifice. It’s a matter of risk ratio, from what I understand.”
“The more blood used, the greater the risk, and the greater the power gifted,” Rhoan commented. “Makes sense.”
“It may make sense but that still doesn’t mean the people being sliced open aren’t some part of the mage’s effort to raise demons.”
“No, it doesn’t, but I doubt it,” Jack replied. “I’ve seen ritual blood magic, and these murders just don’t have the same feel.”
Meaning we had
three
kooks running loose in the city? Great. Just what Rhoan and I needed with the moon heat rising. Not that we were the Directorate’s only guardians, but we
were
the only ones currently capable of moving around in daylight.
“Okay, so they’re not connected. But are we any closer to the source behind the murders?”
Jack grimaced. “Not really.”
I raised my eyebrows and said, teasingly, “So sexual frustration isn’t the only reason for the temper overload earlier?”
He had the grace to look uncomfortable. Which was why I liked him—he acted more like regular folk than a vampire. Mostly, anyway. “Well, I’m sure it had a bit to do with it. And being nagged by my PA is never pleasant.”
“And now you appreciate my do-the-work-fast-gotta-get-out-of-here attitude, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Though I have to say her scenery is better.”
I grinned. “She’s hot for you, boss. I have no idea why you’re holding back if you’re so attracted.”
“Mixing work with pleasure is never a good idea.”
“Then she’s going to keep doing what she must to keep her voice and her body in your mind.”
“Meaning the tops will get more revealing?” Rhoan piped up. “Cool.”
I picked up a pen and flicked it at him. “You bat for the other side, remember?”
“Never stopped me from admiring a well-stacked frame.”
I looked back at Jack. “So, besides Sal breaking your balls over me putting in an unapproved search request, what else went wrong?”
“Everything.” He blew out a breath and grabbed another coffee from the dispenser. “We’ve had a report of another body. Rhoan, I want you to check it out.”
Jack grabbed two files from the top of the coffee dispenser and tossed one of them to Rhoan. “This one has been found up near the Ford factory in Campbellfield.”
Rhoan frowned. “Near? The rest of the bodies have been found in abandoned factories, not near fully functioning ones.”
“I know, but we have to check it out.”
“What about sending cops in?”
“If this is one of ours, I don’t want them fouling the area. Peri Knowles will be waiting upstairs and will accompany you. Because this death is apparently very fresh, she might be able to sense some residual magic and give us more of a clue as to the people behind these murders.”
Peri? I glanced at my brother and he shrugged. Obviously, it was a new name to him, too. Rhoan slapped the folder against his thigh as he rose. “I’ll report in as soon as I get there.”
He walked out. Jack handed me the second file.
“I want you to go chat with this man.”
The man’s name was Bob Dunleavy, and a quick flick through the file’s paperwork and photos revealed a petty criminal who’d scored numerous jail terms that had never curbed his thieving ways. “He doesn’t seem the sharpest knife in the drawer,” I commented. “So why am I going to talk to him?”
“Because Dunleavy has, over the years, provided some good information in exchange for lighter sentences. He rang yesterday evening to say he desperately needed some help and that he’d trade some information he’d picked up from his girlfriend. Information about our current case.”
“So if he called yesterday, why are you only acting on it now?”
“Because I didn’t have any free staff until now. And if that free staff doesn’t get her butt off the desk and get it moving, I’ll give it a good kick-start.”
“You’re such a charmer when you’re sexually frustrated,” I said dryly, then waved the folder in the air. “To go chat to Dunleavy, I need a car.”
“You dented the last one.”
“Not my fault.”
“The owner of the other car is disagreeing with that assessment.”
Well, he would. The idiot didn’t have insurance, so he’d have to pay for the mess his car was in himself if he couldn’t shift the blame to me. “It’ll take me at least an hour on public transport to get to Springvale.”
“I know, which is why I’ve asked Salliane to allocate you another car. Just try not to dent it. Or write it off.”
I refrained from pointing out that I didn’t actually write off the last one, and jumped off the desk. “I’ll report back in once I talk to Dunleavy.”
“Do that. Alex is working on the young vamp, so we might yet find out what Gautier is really up to.”
I frowned. “The baby vamp is dead. How the hell can she work on someone who is dead?”
“He’s a vampire. Unless you fry us with sunlight, basic brain functions—including the ability to regenerate—can survive for many hours. Some of the older, stronger ones can even survive having their neck broken. Which means there may be enough consciousness left to read.”
A thought that was entirely
too
creepy. But I didn’t exactly break the young vamp’s neck, I severed it. I would have thought that to be an entirely different prospect. “I thought breaking a vamp’s neck was the second surest way to kill them?”