The Darkest Kiss (14 page)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I stopped. The creaking didn’t.

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

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

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

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

Trouble wasn’t waiting around the corner.

It was right behind me.

Chapter 6

I
sensed him a heartbeat before he attacked, but that was enough time to move. I was
very
fast, and even though I didn’t move all that far, it still saved my life.

The steel pipe that had been aimed at my head hit my shoulder instead. Pain exploded—a red-hot agony that reverberated up through my brain and right down my arm. My fingers went numb almost instantly, and the laser fell to the floor with a clatter.

Air stirred again.

I swore vehemently and dropped, scooping the weapon with my left hand and firing blindly behind me. Blue light flashed and plaster exploded, sending a cloud of white dust through the air. Then the boards creaked, and though I heard no footsteps, I sensed the vamp was moving away.

I swung around and ran after him. The room was totally empty, and even switching to infrared didn’t help. Dammit, he
was
here somewhere, so why couldn’t I see him? Hell, I couldn’t even see the pipe he was using, and
that
was just plain weird.

His scent got stronger as I neared the door that led out into the hallway. I skidded to a halt and fired, using a sweeping motion from left to right. Wood fiber joined the plaster dust and the stench of burned hair suddenly tainted the air. Several grimy, greasy tufts plopped to the floor just beyond the doorway. He swore, then moved, skittering away like a spider on all four legs—something I sensed rather than actually saw.

I edged out the door, my nostrils flaring as I tried to capture the elusive scent of him. Dammit, how could the feel of him—the smell of him—have been so strong last night and yet so faint now, no matter how close I got? For that matter, how the hell could he be invisible when he’d been perfectly visible last night?

And if he had this sort of power, why hadn’t he used it last night rather than running?

It wasn’t a psychic trick—not only hadn’t I felt any attempts at psychic intrusion, but I wasn’t exactly prone to falling for any sort of vampire wiles or tricks anyway. Not in the “now you see me, now you don’t” sense that humans did.

It was almost as if he didn’t
exist.

Like he was a ghost.

Except no ghost that I knew of could grab a metal pipe and attempt to brain you with it.

I crept down the hallway, my back against the wall and my shoulder protesting every little movement. I ignored it, concentrating on the tingling sense that was Young’s presence, wishing I could pin down his location. He was close. That was all I could tell. Which was a fat lot of good if he decided to come at me with the pipe again.

Another board squeaked in the kitchen—and this time, the sound seemed to be moving away. The bastard was trying to get around me again.

Or he was trying to make me
think
that he was.

Given I wasn’t sure, I stayed where I was, my left hand clenched firmly around the laser and my right shoulder aching like hell. Whether this was Young or not, the minute I sensed or scented him, the bastard was dead. Invisible vampires with a murderous bent didn’t get second chances—especially not when they’d already tried to kill me.

My, my,
an inner voice snarked,
haven’t you changed your tune since becoming a guardian?

Maybe I had—at least when it came to murdering psychos. But I’d still like to think the trigger-pulling impulse was generally more restrained in me than in my brother. That I
wasn’t
the shoot-first, think-later guardian that Jack wanted me to become.

For several minutes, nothing happened. Sweat began trickling down my spine and I gripped the gun so tightly my hand was beginning to cramp. Not a good thing when holding a laser with the power of this one.

I flexed my fingers in an effort to ease some of the tension. In that moment, air stirred. I glanced to my right, caught a glimpse of a pipe whirring straight at my face, and threw myself down and forward.

I hit the wall opposite with a bone-jarring crunch and, for a moment, saw red as the pain in my shoulder caused a wave of agony that had my head spinning and my stomach twisting. The now-visible pipe hit the wall behind me and clattered to the floor.

I sucked in a breath that did little to ease the blinding ache and, in the process, tasted the foulness of vampire.

A foulness that was getting stronger with every second.

He was coming straight at me.

I dropped low and spun, lashing out with a foot. Saw a blur of washed-out color leap over it, then he was on me, hitting like a ton of bricks, the sheer weight of his attack forcing me backward. I hit a doorframe hard, and the pain in my shoulder intensified. Sweat broke out across my forehead and all I wanted to do was throw up. I swore and kicked out as hard as I could instead. My foot hit something solid, and there was a sharp crack.

“Bitch!”

The word stung the air, filled with venom. Then his weight left me, and suddenly his scent was fading again.

I pulled the laser’s trigger. The bright beam shot out, slicing the air in front of me and continuing on, through another doorway before shattering yet more plaster and wood.

I didn’t hit Young, but just for an instant, I caught a glimpse of a gaunt, ghostly face, thin lips stretched back into a snarl and yellowed canines glistening. I fired again.

Missed again.

Then he was gone, and the sense of wrongness retreated.

I was losing him.

I swore and pushed off the doorway, but the sudden movement had pain burning through every nerve ending and sent the room spinning around me. I grabbed at the wall to steady myself and took several slow, deep breaths. God, it felt like my whole damn shoulder had just gone into a spasm and it fucking
hurt
.

But I couldn’t just stand here. I had to move, had to go after Young, no matter how much agony I was in. I couldn’t let him get away.

I carefully shifted my sore arm and cradled it with my left, giving it some support as I walked forward. Young’s scent was already drifting, dispersing on the air. What the hell was going on? How could a young vampire—and I still had no doubt that he
was
young—move around in sunlit rooms so easily?

And how the fuck could he be invisible?

That wasn’t any vampire power I’d heard of. But then, I wasn’t exactly up on vampire law and history. There could be a dozen different types of suckers, for all I knew. The emos had certainly been a surprise.

I followed the tenuous scent forward. It led straight out the door and into the sunshine. Any normal vampire would have burned right there and then, but not Young. I followed his trail out the gate and down the street, until the rising wind tore the trail apart and left me with nothing.

I’d lost him.

God, this day was
not
going well.

I sat down on a brick fence and carefully let go of my arm so I could press the com-link in my ear.

“Hello, anyone out there?”

There was a pause, then a deep voice said, “Liaison Benson here, Riley. You okay? You’re sounding a little off.”

“That’s because I
am
a little off. Is Jack around?”

“Not in the immediate vicinity, no.”

Damn. “Tell him I checked that address Vinny gave me, and it was our vamp’s lair, but the bastard got away. Ask him what sort of vampire is immune to sunlight and invisible.”

“Invisible?” I could hear the doubt in Benson’s voice. “I know there’s day-walkers, but they tend to be humans—”

“Yeah, I know all that,” I snapped. “Just ask him.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

The sudden lack of warmth in his tone suggested I’d offended him, and I sighed. A common problem with new liaisons was the fact they expected civility—and while I was generally more than happy to provide it, now was not one of those times.

Still, I’d been new once, too. So I said, “Benson, not only am I pissed off about losing my target, but I’m also sitting here with a busted shoulder. If I sound a little snappish, I’m sorry.”

“You want medical assistance?”

“Just send someone to take me to the hospital. I can’t drive like this, and shifting shape won’t help.” The bones would still be out, regardless of what shape I took. What hurt in one form was going to hurt in another.

“Janny’s on her way home and is currently close to your location. I’ll get her to detour and drive you to hospital.”

“Janny? Where’s she from?”

“She’s part of Mel’s cleanup team. You would have seen her yesterday. She’s tall and thin.”

Ah, the woman who had reminded me of an insect. “That would be great. Thanks, Benson.”

“No problem.”

He signed off. I switched the com-link to receive only, so that they wouldn’t hear me swearing when the pain flared, and waited for my ride to arrive.

I
t turned out my shoulder wasn’t busted, but rather dislocated. Which meant that once everything was put back into place, the pain would vanish and I’d only be left with soreness.

The bad news, of course, was that I had to get the shoulder put back into place to achieve this result.

It was a process that hurt more than the actual injury did, and the wolf within came roaring to the surface in retaliation. It was a real battle to curb my instinctive need to batter the cause of all this pain away from me.

Once the doctor had gotten the ball back into the socket, the pain stopped almost instantly. An ache remained, but that I could handle.

“You should wear a sling for a day or two,” he commented, stepping back warily as I jumped off the table. “And ice it regularly to help with the swelling.”

“I’m a werewolf, Doc.” I grabbed my sweater and my gun from the nearby chair. “And the Directorate doesn’t give time off for minor injuries like this.”

“That’s against the labor laws—”

I snorted softly. “Like either the Directorate or the bad guys give two hoots about the labor laws.” Hell, I couldn’t even see many humans being overly worried about the noncompliance of the laws at the Directorate. Not when it was being done to protect their butts. “Thanks for patching me up, though.”

He nodded, and I got out of there as quickly as possible. Hospitals were high on my list of
un
favorite places—mainly because, like cemeteries, they held far too many ghosts. And I’d had more than enough of
those
today.

I found Liander waiting at the bottom of the hospital’s front steps. He was dressed in dark jeans and an aqua shirt, and his silver hair was streaked with a blue that matched his shirt. His scent spun around me, rich and warm. Much like the man himself. I smiled a greeting.

“Hey, makeup man, what are you doing here?” I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then linked my good arm through his. “And don’t you look smashing.”

He grinned, silver eyes twinkling. “I just came from a series of interviews about the special effects. Drumming up interest in the new movie and all that.”

“So why are you here? Not that I’m complaining, mind.”

“Rhoan rang and said you might need a lift. I wanted to talk to you anyway, so here I am.” He glanced down at my arm. “How’s the busted shoulder?”

Someone at the Directorate had obviously contacted Rhoan. Jack might be the only one who knew we were brother and sister, but everyone knew we were from the same pack, and living together. And they knew better than to keep injury information from Rhoan—even if he generally knew if I was hurt before they did. “It wasn’t busted, just dislocated.”

“Ow.” He screwed up his nose. “I think that’s more painful than a break.”

Having had a few breaks in my time, I’d have to disagree. Dislocation might be fucking painful, but so was a busted limb.

“So what do you want to talk about?” I said, as he guided me to the right. “Not that useless brother of mine again, I hope. You know I have little influence over him.”

Liander smiled. “Your useless brother has been rather well behaved of late. No complaints, either in or out of the bedroom.”

For which I was glad. The last couple of years had been pretty rough for Liander when it came to the relationship between him and my brother, and he deserved some good times for a change. “So what’s the problem?”

He unlocked the door of his old Ford, then said, “You remember that name you mentioned? The one I said sounded familiar?”

“Aron Young?”

“Yeah. I remembered where I knew it from.” He motioned me to sit, so I did. He slammed the door shut, then ran around to the driver’s side and climbed in. After starting up the car, he added, “I’ve got pictures at home, if you’d like to see if it’s the same man.”

“I would, but I need to pick up my car from Glenroy, first.” I gave him the street name, then shifted in the seat so that I was facing him and said, “So tell me all.”