Deadly Desire (Riley Jenson Guardian #7)(26)

He nodded. “Easy money.”
“Do you know how Amy was supposed to meet this vampire?”
“Some club.” He shrugged.
Meinhardt's, I thought, remembering what Anna had said about Martin Shore's last conquest. Only Amy wouldn't have been old enough to get into a strip joint like that. So somewhere along the line, club security and/or its owners were involved in these cases. “And she did what she was supposed to?”“Yeah. No problems.”
Except that she never got to spend her earnings, because her life had been ripped apart by the living dead. “So where did Amy meet the woman who gave her the job?”
“At the social security office. Amy was waiting to hand in her form so she could get rent assistance, and the woman just started talking to her.” He shrugged. “It went from there, I suppose.”
“Did she ever mention what the woman looked like?”
“No.” He hesitated. “She did get one of the woman's business cards, though. It was black, with a really cool picture of a staked heart on it.”
The same card that Joe had given me. Surprise, surprise. “What happened to it?”
“Amy probably kept it in her purse. Don't know where that is.”
Meaning the zombie or the sorcerer had probably removed it after the kill, because otherwise Cole would have mentioned it. “There's nothing else you can remember that might help with our investigation?”
“Don't think so.” He hesitated. “Are you going to catch whoever did this?”
“We certainly plan to.”
“Good.” He hesitated again. “Kick him for me. The bastard deserves that. And make sure some sappy lawyer doesn't get him off easy.”
“Oh, trust me, the person behind these murders won't get off easy.” Mainly because he or she would be dead. I hesitated then asked, “Tell me, do you know anyone by the name of Kye Murphy?”
“Dad's friend? Sure. Why? He in trouble?”
So the bastard was telling the truth. Amazing. “No, I was just checking. Thanks for your help, Josh.”
He nodded and slammed the door shut. The windows twitched as I walked away, and a freckled face watched me climb into the car.
The next stop should have been the safe house so I could show Joe the picture of the two women and check whether one was his blonde, but with the business cards all but confirmed as trackers, that wasn't the wisest move. The magic might have faded, but that didn't mean the witch couldn't still track us through it. I hoped the magi had come up with something to counter it—and had already given it to Joe.
I traveled back to the Directorate then headed for my desk and checked out the searches. Both of them were still ongoing.
I blew out a breath in frustration, then glanced up as Jack came into the room.
He didn't look happy. “You'd better get over to the safe house straight away.”
Alarm ran through me and I stood up quickly. “What's happened?”
“Two more zombies have been raised, and the safe house holding your street kid has been attacked.” 
ow long ago was this?” I asked, grabbing my old leather jacket from the back of the chair. Though it was actually Rhoan's old leather jacket that I'd recently liberated.
“Five minutes, if that.”
“What happened to Joe and the guardian minding him?”
“We don't know.” His expression was grim. “Jacques isn't answering, nor is he picking up the phone.”
“Then how do you know about the attack?” I grabbed my car keys and purse and headed for the door as I spoke.
“Because unlike some guardians, Jacques has his com-unit on during all working hours. He managed a quick report before things went silent.” Jack stepped to one side to let me through the door, then fell in step beside me as I walked toward the elevators. “Two zombies apparently crashed through the front door. Jacques killed one, but then everything went silent.”
I frowned as I punched the elevator call button. “But Jacques is a vamp. Surely he would have been able to cope with a couple of zombies?”
“I would have thought so. The bigger question is, though, how the fuck did these people even know where to go?”
The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside. “What about the magic on the business card?”
Jack put his hand against the door to stop it from closing. “By the time Marg got to the warehouse and the card, the magic had faded. She said that the same would probably happen with any tracking magic that had been transferred onto people.”
“Obviously not, because the zombies found Joe.” I hesitated. “I've touched the thing, too, so theoretically, she could track me.”
“I'll get the magi working on a blocker. In the meantime, turn on your com-unit and let me know the minute you get to the safe house.”
“Will do, boss.”
He stepped back and let the doors close, and I flicked the little button inside my earlobe, as ordered.
I made it to the safe house in record time, thanks mainly to the fact that there was little traffic. I parked the car in the driveway of the pretty, double-story cottage, but the minute I climbed out, the scent of blood hit. It was thick and fresh, but it had the stench of evil and decaying flesh entwined within it. And it was strong enough that the wolf within wanted to bare her teeth.
Which meant that the zombie might still be here.
I reached back into the car for my laser, shoving it in my back pocket before quietly closing the door. I couldn't see any crows about, so if the zombies were in there they mightn't be anything more than lumps of unresponsive flesh. But I wasn't about to bet my life on that. Who knew what sort of orders the sorceress had given them? And given she was capable of telepathic contact with her creations, she probably didn't need to be in the vicinity for them to create havoc.
I scooted around the front of the car, ducking past the front windows then running to the door. It was smashed in, lying in splinters on the floor, a clear indicator of just how much strength these creatures had.
The air flowing out of the house was heavy with the scent of decay, blood, and evil. Bile rushed up my throat and I gagged, unable for the moment to force my feet inside. God, the stench was vile. And considering my wolf soul generally liked rolling around in all things rotten, that was saying something.
Once my stomach was a little more under control, I stepped cautiously inside, breathing through my mouth as I looked around. The hallway was empty of anyone living or dead, but awareness skittered across my skin. Magic, death, violence—it all lay waiting in the room to my left.
I heard nothing other than the gentle ticking of a clock. There was no breathing, and no sign of life, in the immediate vicinity. Only the scent of new death.And yet… I wasn't alone in this place.
Someone was here. Someone other than the zombies.
Maybe Jacques was still alive. Maybe Joe was. A street kid would have the smarts to get the hell out of Dodge when death came calling.
Or maybe it was neither of them. Maybe it was the sorceress waiting to spring her trap.
I grabbed my laser from my back pocket and switched it on. The soft whine as it powered up filled the edgy silence, but nothing or no one moved as a result of it. If the zombie master was here, then she wasn't too worried by the weapon.
I crept forward, my footsteps soft on the dusty floorboards. At the doorway into the living room I stopped, back against the wall and nostrils flaring as I sought to capture some of the room's fainter scents. It was pretty much useless—the aroma of death and evil was just too great for my senses to handle. And it didn't do my stomach a whole lot of good, either.
I licked suddenly dry lips, then slipped low and fast into the room, laser raised as I scanned for trouble.
Only the broken remnants of life remained as a reminder of its presence.
Like our previous vamp victims, Jacques had lost his head. It had rolled to one side of the champagne-colored sofa, his blue eyes staring at what remained of his body. Unlike the others, though, his torso was intact, and his blood had created a wide dark pool around his body. There were also arterial sprays up the wall. Obviously, the sorceress had no intention—or no time—to save the blood from this kill. Meaning this was probably a straight vampire kill rather than some form of bloody retribution.
Not far from his feet lay a zombie. Its head was laying at an odd angle and all its limbs seemed to have been broken. Even so it lived, because its fingers were twitching against the carpet, as if it were trying to drag itself forward. Maybe it didn't realize its partner had already completed their mission.
That partner was close. The overriding scent of death and decay might be playing havoc with my olfactory senses, but my psychic senses were in fine working order and they were tingling with awareness. Of course, they didn't actually tell me what was in the house with me. That would be far too helpful.
I crept forward, carefully avoiding the blood. Jacques's dead gaze seemed to follow me and chills ran down my spine. The closer I got to the body, the stronger the scent of evil became. It seemed to be centered around Jacques himself, and yet he wasn't evil. I'd met him—talked to him—many times at the Directorate, and never once had I received this sort of feedback.
So why was I getting it now?
My gaze scanned the floor around him. Maybe it was the dust. It was on his face and sprinkled across the carpet, and given that the dust had also been present at the vamp murders, there had to be a connection. And yet here it felt slightly different. There was another scent entwined within the evil of it, and it was different from the aroma so evident at the other vamp murders.