Blood Shadows (7 page)

‘Of course not.’

‘Good, because I’d hate to have to convert her suspension to dismissal.’

Max glowered at him. ‘This job is all she has. And you know it.’

‘And that’s what makes her so effective.’

‘But not effective enough to go up against Kane single-handedly.’

Xavier smiled. ‘You didn’t think she’d catch him tonight, did you? When she took off like that, your heart must have been in your throat.’

Max held his gaze steadily on Xavier’s. ‘Have you thought for one minute that sending Caitlin in on this mission might have sealed all our fates?’

‘That’s a little over-dramatic of you, Max.’

‘Then why the hell does he want her?’

‘My guess is he has a need for her shadow-reading.’

‘Why her?’

‘Because she’s the best, Max. So let her get on with her job,’ Xavier said. ‘She looked like she was holding her own in there.’

Max narrowed his eyes. ‘You don’t believe that for one minute. He knew exactly what he was doing.’ He paused. ‘What if he knows the truth?’

‘You’re being paranoid.’

‘I’m not just asking you, Xavier, I’m pleading with you – pull her off the case. Tell her you’ve reconsidered.’

‘She is the only one who can do this, and I am not going to let him slip through my fingers again.’

‘And if I can get her to change her mind, will you accept it?’

Xavier almost smiled. ‘I saw the way she was looking at him in there. She’s not going to want to quit.’

Max stepped up to him, his eyes narrowed as he used every iota of self-control. ‘You’re both as bad as each other, you and Kane. Using people. Manipulating people. Getting what you want in the end. But I’m telling you, if he hurts her, your no-kill policy on him is going to mean nothing to me.’

Xavier didn’t flinch. ‘Just you remember who you’re talking to. And you just remember what you’ve got to lose, what we’ve all got to lose, if we don’t bring Kane down. Alive.’

Max held Xavier’s gaze as he tried to glare him down. ‘And what if it’s bigger than this? What if it’s bigger than all of us? What if by sending her in there you’re giving Kane exactly what he wants, what he needs? What if he’s the one, Xavier? Has that crossed your mind? What if Caitlin is the key to unleashing the prophecy? What if that’s why he wants her?’

‘That prophecy has nothing to do with a shadow reader. Or Kane.’

‘Because your source is so reliable and trustworthy?’

‘Because I would not be sending Caitlin in there if I thought for one moment that is what he wanted.’

‘Thought – exactly. But you don’t know, do you? We know only what they’ve told us. I know only what you’ve told me. You are second-guessing Kane, Xavier. You know how dangerous that is.’

‘Humankind is at no immediate risk. That is why the divisions are in place. That is why the Global Council works with the vampire ambassadors to maintain peace.’

‘And what if those vampires have lied? Or what if they’re wrong? If you’re wrong? We are talking about hundreds of thousands of lives if they come to rule. We’re talking about the world as we know it coming to an end. All from one decision made in this locale here today. So excuse me for questioning your authority.’

Xavier didn’t flinch as he studied him in the silence for a few moments. ‘If you want me to help Caitlin four days from now, you leave her to do this. Because I can promise you – if you interfere, you’re on your own. We both know there are worse things out there than Kane. Much worse fates. You need me. She needs me. And don’t you forget it.’

CHAPTER FOUR

C
aitlin stood in the doorway of her tiny second-floor apartment, surveying the clutter and chaos that was indicative of her work-life balance: the stacked-up sink and draining board; the overstuffed bin full of empty take-outs; paperwork and mugs strewn everywhere.

She closed the door and dropped her work satchel to the floor, slipped off her coat and discarded it over the kitchen worktop on her way across to the sofa. She sank down onto the edge, elbows on her knees as she gazed down at Kane’s case folders still spread across the coffee table. She slid out the half-exposed photo. It had been taken during one of his night dealings. He wasn’t looking directly at the camera but there was a noticeable hint of a smile on his lips, the smile that in animation had been even more compelling. She lingered on the slight glimpse of incisor that now sent a familiar warm flush through her body.

Hell, she was playing a dangerous game. She knew it. Max knew it. Xavier knew it. And if they knew the full story, they’d tear the case from her in a split second.

The professional in her knew it was time to pull out. The professional in her would have never got involved in the case in the first place knowing the instant physical attraction she’d felt on first seeing his picture. That kind of attraction was dangerous, though not unusual in any of the units when dealing with the more sensual species. Detachment was a skill all good agents developed – a skill Caitlin had never really had to work on either professionally or personally, except with Kane. A part of her had hoped it would all instantly dispel on their first encounter. She’d needed it to dispel to make her true purpose easier. Shadow-reading was hard enough but attraction to the subject caused all sorts of problems, not least blocks.

But having stared deep into those lethal navy eyes, having felt the potential of his cool hard body against hers, those sensuous lips against her neck and wrist, heard the caress of his whispers, she knew her job had only got harder. He was already embedded in her bloodstream, her every thought. After that last encounter, he may as well have been the oxygen she breathed. And that threat of seduction, whispered like a lover’s promise, still lingered forefront in her thoughts. Thoughts that terrified her but also excited her, somewhere deep, somewhere dark, somewhere she wasn’t quite ready to confront yet.

But he truly was arrogant if he thought she could feel anything for him, anything anywhere near powerful enough to give him access to her soul. Attraction was one thing, but what he was suggesting was completely another. What he was suggesting was impossible. There was no way he was going to succeed. She just needed to make sure she did before he realised that.

She’d play the master vampire at his own game.

Somehow.

But for that she’d need to know why he wanted her soul. He’d said he wanted it for revenge. That was his only clue. And despite Xavier’s reassurances, she had the nagging feeling it was something to do with Arana’s death. Why he needed her in particular remained a mystery. Removing her soul, even if it was possible, would render it useless – render her useless. Unless that was what he wanted.

Caitlin pushed the folders aside and sank back in the sofa. She needed to think.

As a master vampire, he would have come across countless shadow readers. It was nothing unusual for her kind to be held captive by area rulers on account of their seventh sense. Where there was a master of any third species ruling a territory, whether a vampire, lycan, demon or witch, having a shadow reader was a sure way to have the rest of the species in the vicinity fearful of acting against their ruler. Kane, if her research about him had been right, would have doubtlessly had shadow readers of his own.

She leaned forward and flicked through the paperwork. She had to get inside of him and fast. Four days wasn’t long. Not to break inside the mind of the solitary vampire notorious for keeping himself to himself. She needed to keep her head clear and focused. She needed to prepare herself.

She rubbed her wrists mindlessly where he’d held her, her stomach leaping at the memory. The way her body had involuntarily responded to him had shocked even her. She wondered if he’d seen it in her, if he’d sensed it. He’d mocked her about it but that could have just been his arrogance. She wasn’t going to let herself be yet another in a long line of conquests. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Picking herself up from the sofa, she headed over to her bedroom. She lowered to her knees at her bed and reached underneath for her suitcase. She dragged it out and unzipped it. She took a moment before flipping the lid back, exposing the contents. A small knot formed at the back of her throat and in her stomach.

She hadn’t kept much of theirs. Her mother had sorted through her father’s things a couple of years after he’d gone. Most of it had been donated to charity, but she had given Caitlin the choice of a few keepsakes. She’d opted to keep one of his shirts, a couple of pens, a notebook that still had his doodles on, his watch and his VCU badge.

She picked up the badge and rubbed her thumb over the silver emblem.

The official line had always been that he had been killed by a rogue vampire – it was the most likely conclusion. It was a hazard of the job. You didn’t spend fifteen years immersed in the vampiric underworld without piquing the interest and resentment of a few unsavoury vampires. Her father had been exceptional at his job and everyone knew it, not least the vampires he dragged kicking and screaming into conviction. Revenge against VCU agents was not uncommon, especially if a vampire had a grudge to bear. And plenty had grudges against super-agent Rick Parish.

Caitlin reached for her worn, dog-eared Companion to English Literature she had carried home from school the day her mother had broken the news. She’d sat her on the sofa on that bright, sunny Thursday afternoon. Her father hadn’t been at the breakfast table that morning but that was nothing unusual. Working until dawn was routine. But Caitlin had known something was wrong. She had known when she’d left for school that morning – satchel hanging heavy across her chest, coat loose on her slight frame, scuffing her shoes against the pavement as she ambled to school alone. She’d known something had changed. She’d felt it in her sleep. She’d woken with that unsettling feeling that something ominous had happened. But nothing had prepared her for the look in her mother’s large hazel eyes, the clench Caitlin had felt in her stomach as she’d sat on that sofa. Thirty-five was no age to be widowed. Fifteen, only days away from being sixteen, was no age to lose a father.

That afternoon, the cool winter sunshine had brought with it a chill, not just of death, but of the pending horror of life after her father.

She’d hated the sunshine ever since. Hated the way its glow ignited all the pleasures of the world, brought out the best in people’s hopes and dreams, when inside that house that afternoon, Caitlin had seen all her mother’s dreams ripped away.

Caitlin remembered holding in her tears, knowing it would make it worse. Instead she’d remembered nodding and listening to what her mother had to say, hugging and comforting her as best she could. She’d kept her own tears for private times, times alone when her mother wouldn’t hear and be distressed by them.

She’d done the same thing seven years later when it had been Max’s turn to break the news about her mother. Max, her father’s best friend. Max, their rock since Rick’s murder. Max, who, three years after her father’s death, inevitably became much more than just a rock to her mother. They’d never concluded what had killed Kathleen Parish, only that it hadn’t been a vampire. All the pointers had been towards a demon species, and the Demon Control Unit had worked flat out for six months to work out what. But with demons being the most diverse and intricate of the third species, it remained inconclusive as to whether the attack on her mother had been random or because of Max’s work.

Now, after seven years of seeking the truth, Caitlin was finally on the cusp. And want her soul though he may, Kane was going to learn that she needed her vengeance more.

She placed the ID back in the suitcase, moved aside some of her mother’s boxes of jewellery and took out the handbook she had been seeking. She closed the lid of the suitcase and shoved it back under the bed.

She knew every archaic page of this notebook, having read it countless times – the shadow readers’ guide, which had been given to her over twenty years before when her gift had been diagnosed. Caitlin had always been overly tactile and one of her teachers had seen her trying to read a friend at school during break-time. All such instances were reported. Shadow readers had to be declared to the state. There was no rhyme or reason as to why a child was born with the ability, and many lost the skill by the time they reached their mid-teens. Many more crumbled during assessments, their energy drained too hard and too fast by the darkness contained in third species’ shadows. Many were left too traumatised by the images they saw, especially when they were upgraded to reading vampires.

Somehow she’d managed to keep an emotional distance. She’d let the images play like a film in front of her eyes and then, after she reported what she’d seen, she’d switch off. By the time she’d applied to be a VCU agent, she was already top of her game. And somehow, losing her parents, the agony, let alone all else that had happened, had helped with that switching off, no matter how disturbing the images were that she saw. In doing so, she’d convinced the unit assessors that emotionally she was up there with the elite. Intellectually, she was ahead of them. Physically, she was sufficient enough, on nimbleness and speed even if not on strength. They’d had no choice but to accept her application.

She opened the first few pages. She knew it wasn’t going to tell her anything she didn’t already know and certainly not why Kane wanted her soul. But she needed something to distract her thoughts from him, something to curb her frustration. She needed to at least feel like she was doing something, however futile, because even that felt better than sitting and waiting for the vampire to make his move.