Rhoan grimaced. “Yeah. Look after Liander until I get back.”
“Just make sure you get back, bro.”
He touched a hand to my cheek lightly, then rose and left. I finished my coffee then stood, but had to grab at the back of the booth as the room swam briefly around me. Maybe I needed more coffee.
I ordered a cup to go, then climbed into the car and drove across town to the next murder scene. Whoever was behind these didn't seem to be overly choosy about their location. First Fitzroy, then Coolaroo, now the green-living, artist-friendly hub known as Eltham.
I parked the car behind the other Directorate vehicles, then walked across the grass. This kid had been murdered in the trees near the railway lines and, like before, her neck had been slashed.
I stopped several feet away from her body. The metallic tang of blood mingled with the dying warmth of raw meat, but layered in between was a scent that reminded me of solvents.
“She had a gun?” I said, my gaze on Cole rather than on the bloody, broken body he was squatting beside.
“Yes.” He didn't look up as he spoke. “And it may lead to an early capture of this particular zombie. She shot off one of the creature's fingers before it got her.”
“Damn shame she didn't aim for the zombie's head. That might have done her more good.”
He glanced up at me. “Not everyone is as efficient at killing as you guardians.”
“And some of us guardians wish we weren't as efficient, either.”
He snorted softly. “Jack would have a fit if he heard you say that. You are his protégée, after all.”
“It's not a job I particularly liked or wanted, Cole, but I'm stuck with the damn thing and have to make the best of it.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Even guardians can quit.”“Not this guardian. It's either this or military for me.”
“Why?” he asked, frowning. “It's just a job. It's not a life commitment.”
“Maybe not for the rest of you.” I might have accepted my guardian role, and some part of me might even enjoy the hunting aspects of it. But I didn't want to be doing this for the rest of my life, and yet I could see no way out. The drug introduced into my system so long ago was still wreaking havoc, and until we knew what the full scope of those changes were, the Directorate was the safest place to be. They could at least monitor what was going on. “Buy me a drink sometime, and you just might tempt me to tell you the whole sorry tale.”
His grin crinkled the corners of his eyes, and made his whole face light up. “And I suppose you're hoping a drink would lead to sex?”
“Werewolves aren't that easy. I'll have you know it'd take two or three drinks, at least.”
He laughed. “Good to see your standards have risen.”
I grinned. “Sorry to see yours haven't. You don't know what you're missing, Cole.”
“I'll survive.”
I was sure he would. “Did you get enough of the finger to get a print off it?”
He nodded. “I sent an image through to headquarters. They're doing a search.”
“Finding the zombie probably won't help us find the master.”
“You don't know that.”
Yeah, I did. The woman behind these things was not only powerful, but clever. I very much doubted she'd be keeping barely animated carcasses close at hand for someone to see and report.
“Did you find out anything about the last zombie?”
“Not much.” He shrugged. “But there doesn't seem to be any connection between him and the people he killed.”
“No, but remember it isn't the zombie who's going after these people. It's the person who's raising them who'd have the connection.”
“Well, there's no obvious link between the first two victims, and I doubt we'll find one here.”
“There has to be something. We just aren't seeing it yet.”
“Undoubtedly.” He paused a minute to pick something black off one of the woman's remains and shove it in a plastic bag. “We found some feathers at the old warehouse. They're currently at the lab undergoing DNA testing. Interestingly, there were no prints of any kind on the gantry where the crow was resting.”
“If she was in crow form, there wouldn't be.”
“The gantry was covered in dust and grime, so there should have at least been claw prints. All we found was feather imprints.”
“Meaning she had no legs?”
“Or her legs were useless and just hung lifeless. Any scuff marks they might have left were erased by her belly feathers.”
So we were looking for a paralyzed shifter? That was rare, because shape shifting actually healed most wounds. Unless her back was so shattered even shape-shifting couldn't repair it. “Maybe she's simply a lazy crow.”
“Could be.” He shrugged. “If the fingerprint doesn't bring anything up, you could do a search through police records and see if there's any more reports of grave vandalism. Whoever is behind this is using the freshly dead—or at least so far. They're easier to reanimate than older bodies. Their flesh still remembers life.”
“Muscles don't have memories.”
He gave me a wry look. “Of course they do. That's why astronauts have to spend so much time in rehabilitation after long space flights. Their muscles forget what it's like to walk under atmosphere.”
“But the space stations don't have that sort of problem.”
“The space stations are pressurized to earth standards. Or near enough that it doesn't matter.” He paused. “Doesn't your vampire own a few of those?”
I blinked. “I don't know.”
“A woman who hasn't investigated a potential partner's wealth? You're not only a rare werewolf, but a rare woman.”
The words surprised me, as did the bitter edge in his voice. “Wow. Someone really has done you over in the past, hasn't he?”
He looked away. “Let's just say I learned some valuable lessons when I was young.”
“You were young?” I said in mock surprise. “And here I was thinking you were always old and wrinkly.”
“I prefer the term weather-worn,” he said, the humor reappearing in his eyes. “And now, if you have no more questions, I have an investigation to get back to.”
“Let me know if you find anything.”
“I always do.”
I headed back to the car. Once there, I rang Sal.
“Have Mel and her team come back with the reports on Garrison's murder?”
“The initial report is in. It was definitely a robbery. Garrison apparently kept a collection of precious coins and jewels in his safe, and they're gone.”
And it would be easy enough to get rid of them on the black market. Which is probably why they went for the smaller items. “Have we a list of items stolen from Armel's safe?”
“It's basically the same deal. Rare coins, precious gems.” Her voice broke for a moment. “He used to show them to me. He was very proud of his collection.”
I frowned. “Did he make a habit of showing everyone his collection?”
“No, just his lovers.”
And the man apparently had more than a few lovers. “Do you know if Garrison enjoyed showing off his collection?”
“I don't know. Why?”
“Because maybe that's the connection. Maybe they share a lover who has more than a little vampire loving on his mind.”
“Armel was very eclectic in his tastes—”
“Meaning he had both male and female lovers.”
She hesitated. “Yes, but I don't believe he and Garrison would have shared any lovers.”
“Why not?”
“Because Garrison liked it very rough, while Armel was a gentle and considerate lover.”
“That doesn't mean they couldn't have shared a lover. It is possible to enjoy both ends of the spectrum.”
“Yes, but vampires do not share lightly. We tend to be very territorial.”Which was something I was all too aware of. “And yet you shared Armel with others.”
“We're vampires. We cannot live on each other's blood, so other lovers were a necessity, not an option.”
I hesitated, then asked, “Then you really did love him.”
“I really did,” she said simply.
“So why do you lust after Jack?” Or was it simply a matter of me misreading what she considered a bit of playful teasing? It certainly wouldn't be the first time I'd gotten the wrong end of a situation.
“There is a difference between lusting and doing, Riley. Not that a werewolf would know that.”
The bitch was back, I thought with a grin. “I will get whoever did this.”
“I know.” She sniffed. “Cole sent me through a fingerprint and we found a match. You want the address?”
“Patch it through to my onboard.”
“Sending it now.”
“Thanks.” I paused again. “Would you be able to get me a complete list of both Garrison's and Armel's lovers? I think it might be worth cross-checking, just to be sure there is no connection.”
“I'll see what I can do,” she said, and hung up.
I blew out a breath. Sal and I might never be great friends, but that didn't stop me from feeling sorry for her. I knew what it was like to lose someone—even if my someone had walked away rather than be murdered—and I wouldn't have wished that sort of pain on anyone. I wondered if she had anyone to talk to or lean on. Certainly having Rhoan and Liander there had helped me through the worst of it.
The onboard beeped as a message came through and I touched the screen, bringing it to life. It was the zombie's last listed home address and, naturally, he lived in the opposite direction from where I currently was. I transferred the North Coburg address into the nav-computer, then started the engine and drove off.