Riley Jensen 06 - The Darkest Kiss - BestLightNovel.com
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"Life itself is a G.o.dd.a.m.n risk! As Liander being caught by a serial killer proves."
He muttered something under his breath. I caught the words "b.i.t.c.h" and "ridiculous," and smiled. "This b.i.t.c.h is going to kick your a.s.s to kingdom come if you don't start acting sensibly where Liander is concerned."
He snorted softly and strode across the living room, s.n.a.t.c.hing an old photograph up and thrusting it in my direction. "This is it."
I took the photo from him and then looked around. "Where's the phone? My cell's in the car."
He pointed to the left, then crossed his arms, his nostrils flaring. "Why is Quinn here?"
"Because I was getting emotional hits from you, and it was shaking me up so badly I couldn 't drive." I picked up the receiver and dialed Jack's number.
"I suppose I should be grateful he couldn't pa.s.s the threshold, or my a.s.s would be history."
"Too right it would be," Quinn commented calmly from the doorway. "You're too old to be acting like a petulant child."
"Christ, first my sister tells me off, then her lover. " He paused. "How come you two are together again? When did that happen?"
"We are not together, as such," Quinn said. "Not yet, anyway."
Rhoan raised an eyebrow as he glanced at me. "Funny, because you have his scent all over you, which kinda indicates you have been together."
"Having s.e.x doesn't mean we're together. It just means we were h.o.r.n.y," I answered, then said, as Jack picked up the phone, "Boss, we've got problems."
"Sal told me. You and Rhoan okay?"
"Yeah, we survived the encounter. Rhoan's thinking a little more clearly now."
I looked at Rhoan as I said it. He grimaced, and thrust a hand through his hair. His body was still taut with tension, and the smell of his anger and frustration stained the air. He was in control, but only just.
"What about Liander?"
"He's missing. I think Aron Young might have him."
"Why? What is his connection to the other men Young has murdered?"
"As far as I can see, the only connection between any of them is the fact they all did tenth grade in the same school as Young. It's not much."
"For twisted minds, it often doesn't have to be. What do you need?"
"I need a trace on a van and the following names. Liander's not dead yet, so he's been s.n.a.t.c.hed rather than killed outright.
Young knows we're onto him, so maybe he's gone for the rest of them, too. Maybe he's planned on one big killing party."
"It's possible. Give me the details."
I read the names out, then added the plate number the bouncer had given me. "I'm about to head on over to Vinny's. She tasted him, and I'm sure knows more than what she's saying. I think it's about time she anted up."
"Just be careful," he warned. "Emos don't have to be touching to suck emotion from you. She and her crew can drain from a distance if they wish."
"She wouldn't want to try it on Rhoan right now. Trust me on that."
"I can imagine." His voice was dry. "You sure you two are unscathed?"
"We can walk, we can talk, and we can certainly throw a punch or two. We're fine."
"Good. I'll contact you as soon as we have any info."
"Thanks, boss."
I hung up.
"So who is this Vinny?" Rhoan said.
"An emo vamp who has set up camp in one of the abandoned government housing towers. I mentioned her before, remember?"
"No." He frowned. "When?"
"After the premiere-when you and Liander came home p.i.s.sed."
Darkness ran across his face, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah, I remember. Let's go see this Vinny, so that there is a next time."
I gave him a hug, and his arms wrapped around my waist, holding on to me briefly. I could smell the fear on him, smell the pain. Feel the quivering in his limbs that was a mix of anger and the need to hit out, to hurt those responsible.
Vinny had better not try anything on my brother.
I pulled back. "Quinn should drive, in case you get any more hits from Liander."
He nodded and thrust a hand through his hair again. "It's gone quiet on that front."
"He's okay, Rhoan. You'd know if it were otherwise." I turned and headed for the door, so he couldn't see the worry in my eyes. Him getting nothing from Liander was not a good sign.
It meant he was getting weaker, that the link between them was fading.
He couldn't die. G.o.d, fate, and whatever else might be up there watching-please don't let him die.
Quinn was no longer at the door. I led the way down the street, following his scent, and heard an engine start up. Rhoan's car, not Quinn's. There was more room in my brother's car.
Quinn reversed out of the parking spot then stopped to let us in.
"Where to?" he asked, glancing at me as I climbed into the front. His eyes were alight with anger and concern, and just a hint of hunger. He might have fed off me earlier, but the smell of blood was on me, and it was teasing his vampire senses to life.
I gave him the address, then sniffed back the blood still running from my nose. "Sorry," I said, when I could.
He shrugged and shoved the car into gear, taking off so fast the tires squealed. "I am old enough to control my hunger, Riley. And there isn't that much blood." He glanced at the rearview mirror. "Though there deserves to be."
"Try losing someone you love and see how you react," Rhoan retorted.
"I have. And people died because of it. My point, however, is that Liander is not dead, and you should not be acting like he is."
"For f.u.c.k's sake, did you have to bring him along?"
For all the annoyance in Rhoan's voice, Quinn's gentle chastis.e.m.e.nt seemed to have some effect. The scent of fear retreated a little, and the anger and determination came to the fore. Hopefully, it would sustain him through whatever the next few hours had to offer.
Hopefully, those hours wouldn't contain death. Not Liander's death, anyway.
We sped through the darkened streets at breakneck speed, Quinn's sharp reflexes getting us through red lights and what traffic there was with equal ease.
The shattered sides of the old government housing block came into sight. Spots of light gleamed here and there, but mostly the building was dark. My gaze was drawn to the top floor. No lights shone there. But then, Vinny's room had been draped in heavy velvet and it was unlikely light would show anyway.
Quinn drove over the footpath and right up to the main doors. When he stopped the car, we climbed out. The scent of vampire spun through the air, thick and cloying.
"There's a lot of them in there," Quinn said, distaste touching his expression as his gaze swept the building.
"At least forty," I commented.
"How in the h.e.l.l can one vamp control forty fledglings?" Rhoan asked in disbelief.
"She's not a blood vamp." I pushed through the shattered front doors. Footsteps scattered and the slight taste of fear touched the air. I glanced at Quinn as I began to climb. "Why are they retreating? They didn't last time I was here."
His smile was decidedly dark. "Last time you were here, you weren't accompanied by one of the old ones."
"They can tell what you are?"
"No. I'm letting them know what I am. Trust me, in an emo's nest, it's always better to advance warn what sort of trouble they'll be getting into should they try any tricks."
Rhoan frowned. "What sort of tricks are emos likely to get up to that would be different from a blood vampire?"
Quinn glanced at him. "They feed off emotion. Therefore it is to their benefit to amp it up where possible."
"Ah." Rhoan considered this for a moment, then said, "So my anger and fear for Liander is something she'd likely play with?"
"Most likely. If she doesn't take heed of the warning."
I glanced back at him. "Is that warning going out telepathically?"
He nodded. "And emotionally. I'm empathic, remember."
He was also something else entirely-something that wasn't just vampire. Though his mother had been human, his father came from a race known only as the priests of Aedh-beings who were more energy than flesh, and who were seen by humans as being tall, golden, and winged. They were, in fact, the race that had apparently instigated the legends of angels. I didn 't know a whole lot more than that, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the skills inherited from his father were coming into play, as well.
After all, Vinny didn't seem the type to be scared by the presence of an old one-but an old one who was something that no longer existed in anything other than myth? Yeah, that would shake her overly confident little world.
We reached the top floor. A different girl guarded the door, but like the previous girl, she was dressed casually and again had a suspicious bulge on her right hip. Unlike the previous guard, this girl also looked worried.
"We're here to see Vinny," I said, stopping little more than a foot away from her. Her scent was orangey, but underneath it ran fear.
Not of me, not of Rhoan. Of Quinn.
She licked her lips and said, "Vinny is rather busy-"
"If Vinny doesn't want a busted door, you had better open it," I said.
Her gaze went blank for a moment, then she said, her voice several octaves lower than it had been moments ago, "The old one stays outside."
"The old one will rip this place apart if you do not open this door, Vincenta." Though Quinn's voice was still decidedly mild, there was a hint of steel underneath that was warning enough to anyone with sense. Vinny had sense.
The guard stepped back and opened the door. Quinn held out his hand and said, "Give me the gun."
The note of command was in his voice and the girl obeyed without question. Quinn pocketed the weapon, then waved us on.
Rhoan went through the door first. I followed, my gaze sweeping past the velvet lushness to come to rest on Vinny's cozy little setup at the far end of the room. Like before, she was attended by several toga-clad teenagers but, unlike before, their tension was something I could taste. There was no caressing, no languid eyes or secretive little smiles.
How many weapons did they have hidden under their outfits? More than a few, I suspected.
"I do not appreciate my home being invaded like this," Vinny said, her voice as frosty as her expression. Her gaze barely even touched me or Rhoan, but rather centered on the man who walked behind me. "It is outside vampire custom, as you well know, old one."
"Vampire custom is adjustable according to the circ.u.mstances," Quinn replied, voice dry. "A fact you'll learn if you live long enough. Which is a debatable event at the present moment."
The air filled with sudden murmuring, and the anger of many different minds seemed to lash at my senses.
"Is that a threat, vampire?" Her voice was soft. Deadly.
Quinn merely smiled. "Simply a fact, Vincenta. I am not, however, the one you have to fear in this little trio. Though I can be, if you wish it."
Her gaze flicked to Rhoan and myself, seemingly dismissing Quinn for the moment. "Why are you here uninvited, wolf?
Have you caught the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who murdered Ivan yet?"
"No, but we will. Because you're going to tell us everything you know about him."
She smiled and leaned back in her chaise lounge. "You know the cost of information."
I didn't get a chance to answer. Rhoan simply stepped forward, wrapped a hand around her pale neck, then yanked her off the lounge and into the air.
The toga-clad vamps behind the chair blurred into action, some leaping across the leather lounge at Rhoan, others whipping out weapons.
I didn't move. I didn't have to.
Rhoan casually battered away the two that attacked him, then swung the dangling Vinny in their direction. "Shoot, and she dies. Move, and she dies."
"You can't-" Vinny's voice was hoa.r.s.e and, while vampires didn't actually need to breathe, her face was going an interesting shade of red.
"Oh, I can," Rhoan said, voice all calm iciness. The voice of the killer, not my brother. "We guardians have the power to kill pests on sight. The question that has to be answered now is whether you're a pest or not."
"I can't-" She stopped, gasping for air like a fish out of water.
I glanced at Quinn, and opened the link between us. Is she faking it?
His amus.e.m.e.nt rolled down the psychic lines. h.e.l.l, yeah. She could win an Academy Award with this performance.