The Darkest Kiss (Riley Jenson Guardian #6)(39)

“He’s my pack-mate,” I said, and hung up.
The elevator reached the parking area and the doors swung open. Quinn grabbed my arm again, and together we raced toward his Porsche.
“Where’s Liander’s place?” he said, spinning the back wheels as he took off fast.
“Kensington. Enter from Epson Road.”
He nodded and the car’s speed increased. Lights and buildings zipped by, but I didn’t really see any of them. I was too busy worrying.
“Any idea what the problem is?” Quinn asked, after a few minutes.
“Maybe, but I’m hoping to God I’m wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ve got a serial killer on the loose, and Liander might just be one of his targets.”
“Again, why?”
I glanced at him. His answers were short and sharp, his concentration on the road and the few cars that were on the road at this hour.
“Because our killer seems to be going after people who once shared a school year with him. We have no real idea why, other than the fact that the killer disappeared after an altercation with some of the kids in that year.”
“And Liander was one of those kids?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t have anything to do with the killer or the kids who apparently did him in.”
“So the killer is a vampire now?”
I hesitated. “Well, he smells like a vampire, but he’s invisible in the daytime and able to walk around in sunlight without harm. And I think he was some sort of shifter before he was turned.”
“No vampire is that immune to sunlight—even the very old ones.”
“Well, he’s not very old, but I chased him out into the street and the bastard didn’t burn.”
“Then he’s not a vampire.”
“What is he, then?”
“He could be a dozen different things.” He hesitated. “The fact that he becomes ghostlike in the daylight makes me lean toward a bhuta.”
“A what?”
“It’s a type of vampire that can come about after someone suffers a violent death. They supposedly don’t live on blood, but rather intestines and excrement, and they have no physical body in daylight. Only at night.”
That description certainly fit what I knew of Young. “They may have no physical body, but they can still pick up things and use them as a weapon in daylight.” 
He glanced at me. “You’ve already had an altercation with it?”
“Yeah, it jumped me. I wasn’t expecting an invisible vampire.” I glanced at the window, noting the location and knowing we were almost there. The knowledge didn’t do anything to ease the tension in me. It only increased it. “Do these bhuta die like regular vampires?”
“Only if you catch them at night. They’re impossible to kill during the day.”
Great. Just great. “God, I hope something hasn’t happened to Liander.”
Quinn took one hand from the wheel and reached across to squeeze my knee. His hands were warm against my skin, his touch comforting—even if it didn’t ease the sick fear sitting like a lump in my stomach.
“Liander’s ex-military. He can fight. He’ll be okay.”
I licked my lips and looked away from the caring in his eyes. Not because I didn’t want to see it, but because I was trying to be strong and any sort of understanding and caring right now just might make me cry.
“I’m a guardian,” I said softly, “and this thing almost whipped my ass.”
“Because you weren’t expecting it—”
“Liander mightn’t be, either.” My one hope was the fact that I did warn him to be careful. Please, please, have been careful, Liander.
Quinn swung into Bangalore Road so fast the tires squealed and the smell of burned rubber briefly invaded the car.
“Be careful of the speed bumps,” I said, just a second too late. The car went flying across the first one and came crashing down on its nose.
“Thanks for the warning.” Quinn’s voice was dry, but he didn’t ease the speed perceptibly until we reached the next bump.
God, we were close, so close…part of me wanted to get out and run, to just get there and know. My stomach was tying itself up into knots and sweat was beginning to trickle down my spine. I didn’t think I’d ever been this afraid of anything else in my life.
We rounded the corner and Liander’s street came into view. “Park over there.” I pointed to the parking bays on the right of the road as my gaze traveled down the line of cars there.
Rhoan was already here, and he’d left the car in such a hurry the driver’s door was still open and the keys were in the ignition.
Oh God, oh God…
Quinn pulled in to one of the free parking spots. The car had barely stopped when I scrambled out and ran, the sound of my shoe heels hitting the road surface echoing across the silence of the still-sleeping night.
There were no lights on in Liander’s three-story terrace house, nothing to indicate there was anything wrong. The front door was open, though—and while it wasn’t busted down or damaged in any way, that wasn’t a good sign. Liander was too security conscious to leave it like that. And I doubted Rhoan would have left it open. If the door had been closed when he’d gotten here, he probably would have busted it down in his anxiety to see what the problem was.
I would have if the situation had been reversed.
I ran through the gate and up the steps. Quinn was a warm, dark presence behind me, but as I ran through the doorway, he stopped.
I twisted around to look at him. He grimaced. “Liander’s never invited me in, so I can’t cross the threshold,” he said. “But go find your brother. I’m here if you need anything.”
“How would the bhuta have crossed it? I sure as hell can’t imagine Liander inviting him in.”
“He didn’t need to. Bhutas don’t operate under the restrictions that hamper most vampires.”“More fucking wonderful news.” I spun and continued on into the darkness.
There was no sound in the house. The scent of roast lamb and spicy vegetables lingered on the air—evidence of the dinner Liander had planned. His scent, soft and masculine, filled the house. Rhoan’s warm spices and leather scent was absent, but I could feel the heat of his presence. He was upstairs.
I grabbed the handrail and began to climb. My footsteps made little sound against the thick carpet, but it wouldn’t matter. Rhoan would know I was here, the same way I knew he was here.
I reached the first floor—the one that held the bedroom. The silence seemed to get thicker, and while the air still held the rich scent of cooking and Liander, something else began to invade it.
Fear.
Blood.
Energy caressed my mind, a tingling of warmth that stirred the fibers of my soul, intimate in a way that went beyond touch, beyond sex. Quinn, pushing lightly at my shields, wanting to talk to me, wanting me to open the psi-door we’d developed as a means of communication.
I dropped several layers of shields and said, Nothing yet. Rhoan’s on the top floor, but I have no idea where Liander is. I hesitated, then added, I can smell blood.
So can I. There’s not a lot of it, though, so that is at least one good thing. But there is only one heartbeat on the top floor. If Rhoan is up there, then it has to be his.
Then where the hell is Liander?
I don’t know. Just be careful. The anger I can feel is fearsome.
He’s my brother, Quinn. He’s not going to hurt me.
Being blood kin doesn’t always protect you. Not when there’s this level of fear involved.
I licked my lips and climbed to the next floor. This one was basically one huge open area that Liander used for an office area, and it was wrapped in darkness just like the lower floors.
And while there was no sound, the smell of anger and fear thickened, and it was all twined up in Rhoan’s leathery scent.
“Rhoan?” I said softly, pausing briefly on the top step and looking around.
“He’s gone. We had an argument, and now he’s gone.”
The voice that rose out of the darkness was a frail shadow of its normal self. Fear lashed at me, thicker and stronger than before.
“What do you mean by gone?” I stepped into the room, then stopped. Moonlight filtered in through the windows at either end of the large room, lending enough brightness to highlight the smashed furniture, scattered paperwork, and the blood splattered across the wall.
Oh God, oh God…
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Liander couldn’t be dead. Rhoan wouldn’t be talking if he were. The shock of a soul mate’s death often left the living partner in a catatonic state—something that Ben had basically confirmed when he talked about the death of his mate. 
I took another few steps forward, and finally saw Rhoan. He was kneeling near what used to be Liander’s main desk, though now it was little more than splintered remains. Evidence to the fact that he really had put up a major fight. But he was fighting something far stronger, far faster, than him. Something that didn’t even operate under the normal rules governing vampires.
He’d lost, but he wasn’t dead. That was something to hold on to, something to work with, at least.
I walked closer, and saw that Rhoan was hugging something to his chest. Something that was white, but stained dark in patches. Patches that smelled a whole lot like blood.
No, no, no, I thought, and took a deep shuddery breath to calm the ever-rising fear.