Riley Jensen 06 - The Darkest Kiss Part 6

Unless Cole picked up something in his investigations, they just might be unanswered questions. Which wouldn't make Jack a happy little vampire at all. I tossed the photo on the seat, then rang Kade to tell him I 'd changed my mind and was heading home. I might have promised Ben I'd check what the police files had to say about his friend's murder, but I really wasn't up to doing any more this evening.

I found a parking spot not too far up the street from our apartment building, and hoped like h.e.l.l the local vandals had gotten tired of their spray-painting binge. Last time I'd brought a Directorate car home, it had ended up green and red. Jack had not been happy.

The night air was cool and surprisingly fresh, free of the usual tint of fumes from the nearby freeway. Maybe the wind had been blowing the other way before it had died earlier this evening, because right now, all I could smell was the faintest hint of humanity, mixed with the sharpness of paint coming from the new pizza parlor they were building a few doors down from our place.

If they did a good meat-lovers' pizza, they'd have me and Rhoan practically living on their doorstep.

I pushed open our building's old gla.s.s and wood front door, and rattled up the stairs. We lived on the sixth floor, in one of the bigger apartments the old converted warehouse had, and on clear summer days had a view right out over the western suburbs.

It would have been nicer if it had been views of parks or even the bay, but we wouldn't have been able to afford the place if it had.

Anything remotely resembling a decent view cost big bucks these days-even if the building was as run-down as this one.

I grabbed my door key from my purse and opened the apartment's front door. Then stopped.

There were dark mutterings coming from the direction of my bedroom, and there were clothes strewn everywhere. Over the floor, across the old leather couches, patterning the rugs scattered over the wooden flooring, even hanging off the old red - plastic light features.

Neither my brother nor I were the tidiest of people, but the house had definitely been in a better state when I 'd left this morning.

I raised my voice and said, "What the h.e.l.l have you been doing, Rhoan?"

He came stalking out of my bedroom, his face almost as red as his hair and his gray eyes flas.h.i.+ng fire. "I'm looking for a s.h.i.+rt."

I looked pointedly at all the s.h.i.+rts strewn across the floor and furniture. "What s.h.i.+rt in particular?"

"The pink one."

"The one you hate?"

"Yes."

"The one you swore you were going to trash only a couple of weeks ago?"

"That would be the one." He stalked across the room and upended a basket of clean laundry onto the coffee table.

"Can I ask why you're looking for this s.h.i.+rt, and only this s.h.i.+rt?"

"Because Liander gave it to me to celebrate our anniversary and I need to wear it tonight."

I frowned. "I thought he gave you a watch for your anniversary?"

"He did. He also gave me an outfit. He wants me to wear it tonight."

"Why?" I stepped inside and closed the door, then dumped my purse and keys on the nearby lamp table.

He gave me an exasperated look. "It's the premiere of the movie, remember?"

Understanding dawned. Rhoan didn't usually attend the premieres of any of the movies Liander had been involved in, simply because he preferred to remain out of the limelight. But this one was important. This one was the first movie in which Liander's company had been totally responsible for all the movie's effects. Which meant Liander had been on tenterhooks for the last week, hoping and praying that the movie-and his effects-were well received. Which had made dealing with both him and my brother a party.

As the scattered clothes would attest.

I shook my head and walked into Rhoan's bedroom. Like the living room, it looked as if a cyclone had hit it. No doubt my bedroom would be the same-though why he'd think I'd be stealing pink s.h.i.+rts was anyone's guess. Pink and I were not compatible.

Of course, seeing as we were twins, the s.h.i.+rt didn't actually suit Rhoan, either, but at least his skin was a bit more tanned than mine. It helped.

I ignored the open robes and went directly to his armoire, sliding out the bottom drawer. I knew from experience-and my own packing habits-that this was where all the unwanted clothing usually ended up.

Sure enough, there it was, shoved right at the back, under the fluorescent pink and lime-green socks I'd given him for his last birthday. I thought he'd adore them, as he usually loved all things bright. Obviously, I was wrong.

I dragged out the s.h.i.+rt and slammed the drawer shut. "Would this be the s.h.i.+rt you're looking for?" I said, holding it up on one finger as I walked out.

"Yes. Thank G.o.d." He walked across the room and grabbed it from me. "Where'd you find it?"

"In the dead clothes drawer."

"Ah." He paused, then added, "I like the socks. Really." "About as much as I like those s.h.i.+ny yellow snake-skin shoes you gave me." My voice was dry. "What time is Liander getting here?"

"He said he'd pick me up about seven." He glanced at his watch. "d.a.m.n, I'd better move it. You sure you don't want to come along?"

I shook my head. "Zombies, trolls, and whatnot running around creating havoc is not my style. " And I got enough bloodshed and havoc in my day job. I didn't need to explore it any further on the big screen. "Give me a nice romantic comedy any day."

He gave me a quick hug. "You're just a girly-girl at heart, aren't you?"

"Takes one to know one, bro."

He snorted. "I am the man of my relations.h.i.+ps, thank you very much."

I glanced at my watch. "And if the man doesn't hurry, the wife will beat you up for being late."

"Good point."

He rushed back into his bedroom and I headed into the kitchen to make myself coffee and a toasted sandwich. I wasn't the world's greatest cook, but I could usually manage the basics without burning the place down.

But I'd barely even sat down on the sofa to eat it when my cell phone rang.

"Phone," Rhoan called out helpfully.

"Gee, thanks," I said, barely resisting the urge to throw a cus.h.i.+on his way. I picked it up. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Riley? It's Ben. I need your help again, and quickly. A friend of mine has just called, and he's in trouble. As in, dead-in-a- few-minutes trouble."

"The cops?"

"He said it was a vamp. The cops won't help."

I blew out a breath, and wondered what the odds were of two of his friends being attacked by vamps. "Give me the address." I picked up a pen and scrawled it down on the overdue electricity bill sitting nearby. "Got it. I'll be there in ten."

By which time, if it was a vampire, his friend might well be dead.

"It'll take me longer, but I've told Ivan I'd be calling you for help. He's expecting you."

If he was still alive, that was. I hung up, picked up my ham and cheese sandwich as well as my badge and car keys, then headed out.

I could smell vampire as soon as I got out of the car. The night air had gone from crisp to cold, and the rotten smell of unwashed vamps seemed to cling thickly to the night.

I pocketed my keys and studied the apartment block as I walked up the pavement. It was one of those high-rise brick- and-gla.s.s affairs that the government had built some fifty years ago in an effort to relieve the low-income housing crisis. Of course, governments tended to work with minimal budgets-except when it came to their own comforts-so the resulting buildings were neither pretty nor truly functional. Add tenants who didn't really give a d.a.m.n about the place, and you were basically left with a large hovel. One with many smashed windows and doors, and decorated by multi-colored graffiti.

It wasn't the sort of place I expected a friend of Ben's to live.

I walked past the front of the building, heading for the main entrance. The stink of vampire grew stronger, until the cloying, unhealthy smell all but surrounded me, filling every breath and clinging to my clothes.

This wasn't a human low-income building. Not any longer.

Which was unusual. Vampires tended to be solitary souls, and except for those who had newly blooded young to look after, they rarely lived together. Surely the fact that this lot were would have come to the attention of the Directorate, but I couldn't remember seeing any mention of a vamp encampment this close to the city. But I guess if the vamps were behaving themselves, they might have avoided Directorate scrutiny.

Footsteps whispered across the night, the sounds so soft regular hearing wouldn't have caught it. They were pacing me, watching. Worse still, the raw taste of their excitement and blood hunger tainted the air.

Young vamps, I thought. Great. I dug out my badge, holding it toward the building as I kept on walking.

"Directorate, folks. Mind your own business, or there's going to be a heap of trouble."

I didn't bother raising my voice. They were close enough that they 'd hear me, even though I couldn't see them through normal vision. And I didn't want to see them through infrared. Just knowing how many there were might get a little scary.

The blood hunger abated a little, but I had to wonder what had them so worked up. If they were old enough to control their hunger, then why had the sight of me caused it to rise so sharply?

I could think of only one thing that would cause such a reaction-blood. The scent of fresh blood was a call few vampires could ignore, and with the young it stirred the blood hunger to life, making them react hungrily to even the slightest beat of life.

And yet the night seemed free of that scent. Or was the aroma of vampire overwhelming everything else?

I didn't know, but I had a suspicion I'd soon find out. And if Ben's friend was a wolf and living with this lot, then he was a braver soul than me. The vamps were still following me, and my skin crawled with the sensation. I breathed through my mouth and pretended to ignore them. Though, being vamps, they'd hear my accelerated pulse rate. I was just hoping they'd take it as readiness for action, not for any sort of fear.

Of course, if they decided to attack en ma.s.se, I was one dead puppy no matter what. I might have a vampire 's strength and speed, but I'd still be one against dozens. Not great odds, in anyone's book.

I loped up the steps and through the smashed gla.s.s front doors. The yellow light of a solitary bulb broke across the darkness, making the corner shadows seem even deeper. Thankfully, there were no vamps in those shadows. Not yet.

The building had two elevators, but neither of them seemed to be working-one was sitting on the fifth floor with the floor light flas.h.i.+ng, and the other had no numbers lit at all. I hesitated, switching to infrared before looking down the left, then the right, corridors. As I suspected, it was pretty scary. There had to be at least twenty vamps crowded against the walls, their eyes glinting brightly and their sharp canines prominently exposed.

I still couldn't smell blood, but a vampire's sense for life's nectar was far sharper than mine. And it was obviously still calling to them.

This would not be a pleasant place to be if things got out of control.

I flicked the small stud in my ear, turning on the two-way com-link-which had been inserted when I'd been going into a madman's lair, but was now standard equipment for all guardians. Jack didn 't like losing his people, and the com-links also doubled as trackers.

The vamps melted back into the deeper shadows as I headed for the stairs, so hopefully that was a sign they didn't want any trouble.

But I wasn't about to take a chance on that.

"h.e.l.lo, anyone listening?" I said softly.

"What now, wolf girl?" Sal's tone seemed even sharper than normal, coming though the tinny confines of the com-link.

"What, are you pulling a double s.h.i.+ft or something?"

I ran up the stairs as I spoke, heading for the fourth floor. Thankfully, the vamps didn 't follow, though the scent of them didn't lessen any. Meaning there were plenty more ahead.

"Yes," Sal snapped. "I am. Now what do you want?"

I used to get awfully b.i.t.c.hy when I had to sit double s.h.i.+fts, too. Combine that with hunger, and it definitely explained her att.i.tude. "I'm investigating a possible vampire attack at my current location. We got anyone in the area, in case I need backup?"

"What, teacher's pet needing backup?" She sounded positively cheerful at the thought. "I think you've just made my night."

"I'm so glad." Not. "What have you got on this apartment block?"

Keys tapped, then she said, "Not a lot. It's an old government housing development that has been listed for demolition for the last ten years. It's become a squat for itinerants and the homeless, apparently."

"Well, it's now the home of a rather large vampire community. A youngish one, too."

"Impossible. Vampires don't pack like you wolves do."

"Well, tell that to the vamps here."

She grunted. "There's nothing in the files here about it."

"Then you'd better make a note and let Jack know. He may want to investigate."

"It's noted. Talvin's nearby if you need him."

"Thanks. I'll yell if I do."

"Don't yell too late, wolf girl. Talvin doesn't appreciate picking up the bits."

"Well, I don't appreciate being bits."

I slowed as I neared the fourth-floor landing. The unwashed scent still clung to the air, and my infrared sight picked out several vamps hovering down the right -hand corridor, the heat of their bodies standing out sharply against the surrounding darkness. I looked left. No vamps.

Fortunately, Ben's friend lived in apartment 41, which, according to the signage on the walls, was the very last one on the left. My boot heels clicked sharply against the threadbare carpeting, the sound echoing across the thick air, as steady as a heartbeat. Just not my heartbeat.

The closer I got to apartment 41, the more tense I became. The soft scent of blood was now beginning to perfume the air, but there didn't seem to be any unusual noises coming from the apartment. No sounds of fighting, nothing to indicate anything was out of order.

Maybe Ben's friend had simply gotten a little paranoid about living amongst all these vampires. Or maybe he'd cut himself shaving and had panicked about the consequences.

I stopped when I reached the door, then flexed my fingers and raised a hand to knock.

That's when I heard it. A soft, hair-on-the-back-of-the-neck-raising moan.

The sort of moan that came from the dying. I stepped back, raised a foot, and kicked the door open. It smashed back against the wall, sending dust and plaster flying.