Darkness Splintered (DA 6) (29 page)

That’s presuming our dark sorceress was the one responsible for this murder.

“If it was not Lauren, then it confirms there is another sorcerer involved. The taint of dark magic lingers in the air.”

“Meaning the bastards are still one step ahead of us.”

He pushed to his feet. “Unfortunately, yes.”

I stared down at the broken body. From this angle, I couldn’t actually see the stump of his neck, thanks to the shadows and the depth of the shelf, and of that I was glad. I’d lost the contents of my stomach far too often in the last twenty-four hours, and I had no desire to test its stability again.

“He’s wearing a dressing gown, so he obviously lived upstairs. It might be worth doing a quick search through the whole premises, just in case he keeps a record of buyers somewhere.”

“Is that likely?”

I shrugged. “Right now, we can’t afford to overlook any option. I’ll take upstairs.”

He nodded, and I headed for the stairs. The upper level consisted of a small living area, a separate bathroom and bedroom, and what could only be described as a kitchen nook. There was also a balcony off the kitchen that provided nice views over the bay.

I grabbed some gloves from under the sink and went searching. There were no filing cabinets, so I went through his drawers. I found all sorts of bills, tax records, notes, as well as various bits of design artwork, but no clientele records.

Which was pretty typical of our luck, really. I clomped down the stairs. “Anything?”

Azriel shook his head. “There is an index of names and addresses, but none of them are our sorcerers or the Gold Coast address.”

“Lauren’s sharing that place with a man, so maybe he’s one of the names listed.”

“Perhaps, but as I said, the Gold Coast address was not listed.”

“Which doesn’t mean he can’t be in there. It just means he might have a secondary address. It might be worth taking the index cards with us and getting Stane to do a check.”

“Why not your uncle? Would it not be easier for the Directorate to conduct such a search?”

“Yeah, but that would mean involving Rhoan again, and I’m not about to do that unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“And yet you’re willing to involve Stane?”

I grimaced at the unspoken implication, even though it was perfectly true. I 
was
 more prepared to risk Stane’s life than Rhoan’s, even though, of the two, Rhoan was more capable of defending himself. “The one thing my uncle has that Stane doesn’t is Hunter as his ultimate boss.”

“You can be certain that Hunter is well aware of Stane’s participation in this quest.”

“Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” Hell, thanks to the Cazadors, she knew everything I did and everyone I talked to. Except for the last couple of hours, that was. I shivered and tried not to itch at hands that still felt bloody, even if no blood had actually been spilled. “It’s just that if I lose Rhoan, I’ll more than likely lose Riley, thanks to their twin bond. And it may be brutal, but I’d rather risk Stane’s life than two people I consider pseudo parents.”

Although I was hoping like hell it 
didn’t
 come down to that. Jak had already lost his life to this quest. I really, 
really
, didn’t want that to happen to anyone else.

And yet the notion that others 
would
 be lost before this quest was over was one that wouldn’t go away and wouldn’t be ignored.

Azriel picked up the index cards, his expression unreadable and little emotion evident in the link. I really had no idea what he thought of my reasoning, but surely he understood. After all, reapers did what was necessary to get the job done.

“We head to Stane’s, then?” was all he said.

I hesitated, then nodded. “After that, we might go to Adeline Greenfield’s place, and ask whether our Michael Greenfield could possibly be her brother.”

Azriel frowned. “I thought you intended to see your uncle next?”

I grimaced. 
“I did, but after that confrontation with Rhoan, I’ve rethought the wisdom of that.”

In other words, cowardice had come to the fore. But one angry confrontation a day was really all I could handle at the moment.

“It is not cowardice to wish to avoid a confrontation that might set those you care about on a crash course with death,”
Azriel said softly. 
“And that is what all of us involved in this quest face.”

My gaze flashed to his. “You stay alive, reaper, no matter what. I have no intention of raising our child alone.”

He smiled. “Trust me, I have no intention of going anywhere. Whether the fates give me that choice is another matter entirely.”

“Well, they fucking better,” I said, as I stepped into his arms. “Because if I survive all the chaos they’ve created, I think I deserve some sort of reward.”

He raised an eyebrow, amusement evident. “And I’m to be that reward?”

“You’ll do for starters.”

He laughed, and delight skated through me. I cupped his cheek and lightly brushed my thumb across the small laugh lines near his mouth. Lines that hadn’t been there when he’d first made an appearance in my life. “You should do that more often.”

“Once we are through this, perhaps I will.”

And with that, he swept us to Stane’s.

Only Stane wasn’t alone. Tao was with him.

I stared at him for a moment, taking in the haunted eyes, hollowed cheeks, and dusty, partially burned clothing, then all but threw myself into his arms. He caught me with a grunt and his arms wrapped around me, his grip so fierce my ribs were in danger of cracking. I didn’t care. He was here, he was whole, and that was all that mattered.

“God,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him as fiercely as he held me. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“So am I,” he said softly. “So am I.”

I pulled back, my gaze searching his. The flames had totally retreated and there was little more than ash and desperation in his eyes.

“What happened?”

He shrugged and scraped one hand across his chin. “I don’t really know. One minute I was home, and the next I was flat on my face in a field the other side of Sunbury, near the landfill center there.”

“The elemental was heading back to where it was created again.”

“Yes.” He shook his head. “And it was close to getting there by the time I regained control. Up until that point I was —” He paused and a shudder went through him. He briefly closed his eyes, his voice breaking as he added, “I was nowhere. I was nothing. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I fought, all there was were flames and heat and endless agony. I think I’d rather be dead than go through that again.”

“Tao —”

His gaze hit mine. Fierce. Angry. “Don’t say it, Ris. Don’t you 
dare
 say it. You have no idea what it’s like to lose your entire being to another force, and until you do, don’t lecture me or feed me platitudes.”

I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t really, simply because anything I did say probably 
would
 come off sounding like one or the other.

Tao knew how I felt and what I believed. I’d told him often enough already. He knew we were there for him, no matter what. Just as I knew that, right now, he was angry and scared; who wouldn’t be, placed in the same position?

So I simply dropped a kiss on his ash-stained cheek, then stepped back, took the index cards from Azriel, and handed them to Stane. His gaze, when it met mine, was sympathetic. Maybe he’d tried comforting Tao as well, only to receive a similar response.

“Where did you get these?” He flicked through the cards with a slight frown. “It’s very old-fashioned to store information in this form these days.”

“They were stolen from the premises of a dead man. Maybe he didn’t trust computers.”

Stane snorted. “It’s far easier to steal information from these things than it is from computers.”

“Says the man who hacks for fun and profit.”

He grinned. “Well, yeah, but I’m an extraordinary individual. The common man generally isn’t as clever as me and my kind.”

His kind meaning hackers and black marketeers, not werewolves, obviously. “If we haven’t already overwhelmed you and your computers with requests, could you do a search through these and see if there’s any link – however tenuous – to Lauren Macintyre?”

“Sure. Could take a while, though. There’s a fair few names in here, by the look of it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but it could be the only way we’re going to track down our sorceress.” And maybe the only way to save Mirri. But there was no point adding that. Stane would do his best, as usual. “We need to know the minute you find anything.”

“Speaking of findings, I managed to get the autopsy results for the body parts and teeth the cops found at the storage place that blew up.” Stane reached over to the second of his desks and flicked a screen. Several documents flashed onto it. “Long story short, the bits 
did
 belong to Genevieve Sands. Problem is, she was dead long before this blast tore her apart. The coroner picked up evidence that the body had been frozen.”

“Just like the real John Nadler.” My voice was grim. “It’s beginning to look more and more likely that we’re dealing with not only a full-body face shifter, but one capable of taking multiple male 
and
 female forms.”

“If that 
is
 the case,” Azriel said, “then it is possible the clothes we saw in Lauren’s wardrobe might well have belonged to her alternate 
male
 identity.”

I glanced at him. “Yes. Which means that cuff link might yet lead us to her, even if a search through the index cards doesn’t.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How? It is an inanimate object, and in and of itself can provide no clues.”

“To you and me, yes. But to someone who has psychometry skills, maybe it can. We have to go see Adeline Greenfield about her apparently resurrected brother; maybe she can point us to someone who can help.”

“Why not ask the Brindle?” Tao said, voice a little strained, but overall sounding a whole lot less tense than a few moments ago. “Surely they have witches capable of that there?”

“Yes, but their first priority has to be Mirri —”

“Fuck,” he said, cutting me off. “I’d forgotten. How is she? How is Ilianna?”

“Okay for the moment. Ilianna’s mom and Kiandra are both helping to try to get the threads unraveled before the deadline.”

He hesitated. “And have they any hope?”

“Who knows?” I half shrugged. “But Ilianna 
did
 manage to unravel the magic in my father’s warding stones, so she has at least a basic level of understanding of what’s involved.”

“Fuck.” He thrust a hand through his tangled, matted hair. “We’ve made a right old cock-up of everything, haven’t we?”

“Not we,” I refuted softly. “Me.”

“Ris —”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “And for exactly the same reasons you gave me only minutes ago.”

He stared at me for several seconds; then the faintest trace of a smile touched his lips. “Fair enough. Although I will remind you that you can hardly be held to account for your father’s stupidity in losing the keys in the first place.”

“True, but that doesn’t absolve me of responsibility for everything else that has happened.” My voice broke, and I swallowed heavily. Damn it, I 
wouldn’t
 cry. Not again. There’d been enough tears shed for Jak for the time being, and I refused to cry for Tao or Mirri. It wasn’t over yet. They 
weren’t
 dead. And until it was all done and dusted and we knew… I paused, not wanting to think about the rest of that sentence, but it ran through my mind nevertheless.

…
 
we knew who survived and who didn’t, there was no point in grieving.
 Hell, there was a fair chance 
I
 wouldn’t survive, let alone anyone else. And that would be the pits given the possibility of a happy ever after had been dangled in front of my nose.

I returned my gaze to Stane. “Any luck finding more information on Pénombre Manufacturing?”

He shook his head. “For all intents and purposes, it’s a shelf company, as I said. I have no idea how they can own that Maribyrnong premises given it shouldn’t be possible.”

“So there’s no connection to either Genevieve Sands or Lauren Macintyre?”

“None that I can find. Doesn’t mean there isn’t one, of course.” He leaned across to another screen. “There is, however, a link between Sands and Macintyre. It’s tenuous, and I’m trying to uncover more details, but it would seem that twenty-eight years ago, Sands invested in a property that Macintyre subsequently purchased.”

My eyebrows rose. “The Maribyrnong warehouse was purchased by the shelf company some twenty-eight years ago, too.”

“Yeah. Odd coincidence, don’t you think?” He half smiled. “Macintyre no longer owns the property. According to records, she sold it five years ago.”

“And the new owners?”

“It went through several, and ended up being one of the properties purchased by the consortium owned by John Nadler.”

“And round and round the circle goes,” Tao commented. “Only it seems to stop at exactly the same spot.”

Stane glanced at him. “Yeah. I’m currently doing a search on all the owners between Macintyre and Nadler, just to see what I come up with.”

“It’s worth a shot.” If nothing else, it might give us some home addresses to search. I mean, sooner or later, we 
had
 to hit gold. Or, in this case, a legitimate address that actually had the person registered as the former owner actually living there.

“Anything else?” Stane said.

I smiled. “That’s enough, don’t you think?”

“Well, I am becoming accustomed to my crates of top-shelf champagne. Not sure how I’ll manage once all this over.”

My smiled grew. “You could actually purchase them yourself.”

Shock claimed his expression, although his brown eyes twinkled. “Buy them myself? Good god, I don’t buy 
anything,
dear woman. I’m a trader. Unfortunately, crates of Dom Pérignon aren’t something I often come across in the electronics market.”

“Then you need to get better contacts.” I glanced at Tao. “Are you heading home?”