Darkness Unmasked (DA 5) (19 page)

Something else I could agree with. “Look, I’m really
not
interested in either your plans or Hunter’s. I just want to do what I have to do to get free.”

“Which you will not do without assistance.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I very much suspect asking for your help would simply mean jumping from the frying pan into the fire.”

“Oh, I am far more honorable than Hunter. And I, at least, am sane.”

“If she’s insane, then she’s doing a good job of hiding it.” I didn’t like her. I didn’t trust her. But she would hardly be head of the Directorate
and
a high-ranking member of the high vamp council if she was off her rocker. The vamps, at the very least, would not have stood for it.

“Oh, trust me, she long ago mastered the art of hiding what she truly is.”

“And you, of course, are a paragon of honesty.”

He conceded that point with a regal incline of his head and a half smile. “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind. And I very much suspect you will.”

“Don’t swear off drinking blood until that happens,” I said, “because you might well starve.”

Amusement crinkled the corners of his brown eyes. “I’m tempted to ask if you’d like to bet on that, but I suspect you are not the betting kind.”

“Not on stuff like this.” I crossed my legs, and his gaze briefly dropped. It was only then I remembered I was wearing a short skirt. I cleared my throat softly, drawing his gaze upward again. “Can we get back to the reason I’m here now?”

“Indeed we can.” He leaned back in the chair again, his expression still amused. “What do you wish to know about our Ms. Jodie Summer?”

“For a start, have you used her before?”

“No. Whenever we need to cover a shift, we simply ring the agency.”

“And that agency is Classique?”

“Yes.” He reached to the left of his desk, picked up a business card, and handed it to me. It was the same card I’d gotten from the manager at the other venue. I flipped the card over, but there was nothing written on the back. “Have you got a contact there? I might have to talk to them.”

“Either James Parred or Catherine Moore should be able to help you. I’ve dealt with both.”

“Thanks.” I tucked the card into my handbag. “Is there anything you can tell me about Ms. Summer? Did you notice anything unusual about her?”

“Aside from the fact she was neither human, shifter, nor vampire, you mean?”

I half smiled. “Yeah, besides that.”

“No, because she had some sort of shield operating that I could not slip past.” He hesitated. “It was neither a nano shield such as the one you wear, nor one of magic.”

My eyebrows rose. “Meaning you have working knowledge of magic?”

“Those of us who have been around a very long time do tend to become proficient in all manner of things.”

Not just magic, then. And it did make me wonder what else Hunter had become proficient in. Beside killing and being a coldhearted bitch, that was.

He chuckled softly. “It
is
a wonder you’re still alive if you’re having those sorts of thoughts around Hunter. She can be somewhat highly strung when it comes to those who disrespect her.”

“Yeah, noticed that,” I muttered, then got back to the business at hand. “So there’s nothing else you can tell me?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Meaning I was at another dead end. Hunter was not going to be pleased. I hesitated, then said, “I don’t suppose you could pull a picture of Ms. Summer from your security cameras?”

“If you give us a couple of minutes, Jonathan will have a printout waiting for you at the bar.”

“Thanks.” I rose. “You’ve been most helpful.”

“But not as helpful as I could be,” he said, expression back to being amused. He opened a drawer and drew out another business card. It was a simple card—black background and white writing—and said
Harold Stanford, manager, Hallowed Ground
, with a cell phone number underneath. “Just in case you change your mind.”

I accepted it somewhat reluctantly. “I won’t, you know.”

He shrugged. “It never hurts to have an escape option, Ms. Jones. That is all I am offering.”

“Thanks for your time.” I tucked the card in the side pocket of my handbag and headed out. Once I’d collected the printout of our suspect, I walked back outside.

“Well, that was fun,” I said, making a beeline for the 7-Eleven several doors down from the club. I needed a Coke and chocolate fix to calm my still-quivering nerves.

Azriel fell in step beside me. “
Interesting
is more the term I would use.”

I glanced at him sharply. “You believed his bullshit?”

“I believe he intends to oust Hunter from the council. I also believe he desires your help to do it.”

A chime rang cheerfully as I entered the 7-Eleven. “That doesn’t mean I should trust him.”

“I never said you should. But it is certainly worthwhile keeping his offer in the back of your mind. Especially since I will not be around once the keys are found.”

Him not being around was something I did
not
want to think about. “I can hardly keep it in the
front
of my mind, given Hunter’s predisposition for picking up all the wrong types of thoughts.”

“She will be well aware that you have talked to Stanford.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to rub her nose in it.” I plucked a can of Coke from the refrigerator, but there wasn’t a whole lot of choice when it came to smaller chocolate bars. After a couple of seconds’ deliberation, I grabbed a Mars bar, then paid for them both at the self-service scanners. “And I’m certainly not going to mention the fact that he made me a counteroffer.”

“If they are longtime foes, then she will guess what he will or will not have done.”

“You know, I really don’t want to be talking about Hunter right now.”

“Then what do you wish to talk about?” He opened the door and ushered me outside, one hand pressed lightly against my spine.

“Nothing. How about we just walk down to the gardens so I can eat my chocolate and enjoy the quiet?”

“You? Requesting silence? A rare moment indeed.”

I snorted and nudged him with an elbow. “No smart remarks from the peanut gallery, thanks.”

“And what, precisely, is a peanut gallery?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just escort me down to the park before I die of caffeine withdrawal.”

His nod was decidedly regal; then he offered me his arm and said, “As you wish.”

I slipped my arm through his and we walked down to the park, where I found a bench seat near the fountain and had my snack, listening to the dance of water and the songs of the birds in the trees. It was, I thought, another one of those rather pleasant—almost ordinary—moments to treasure in a life gone crazy.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last. Just as I tossed the empty Coke can into the nearby bin, my phone rang. I dug it out of my handbag and hit the vid-phone’s
ANSWER
button.

“Stane,” I said. “How’d the date go?”

“Ah, the date,” he said, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. “You could say it wasn’t what I expected.”

“Meaning it was worse, or better?”

“Better is something of an understatement.”

I smiled. “So your mother wasn’t so far off the mark when she arranged this blind date?”

“Nope. Holly Green is not only pretty, but she’s a
gamer
.” He sighed. “I think I’m in love.”

“You haven’t invited her around to your place yet. She might yet be a clean freak.”

“No one who is a gamer can be a clean freak. The two are totally incompatible.”

My grin grew. The lone wolf had been snagged, and
bad
. “I take it you’ll be seeing her again—sans mothers this time?”

“Oh, hell
yeah
.”

I laughed. “Is that the only reason you’re ringing? To boast about your hot date?”

“Uh, no.” He composed himself, his expression becoming a touch more serious. “Got a hit on that storage locker. Someone just came out of it.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m running a scan, but nothing has come up yet.” He disappeared briefly as he scooted from one screen to another. “I just sent you a picture. It’s a woman, so it might be Genevieve Sands.”

“How long ago did she actually leave?”

He hesitated. “Just going out through a side door now.”

“Let me know the minute anyone else enters or exits. And thanks, Stane.”

“No probs.”

As I hung up, my phone chimed, telling me a message had been received. I pulled up the pic, then glanced at Azriel. “You want to take us there?”

He nodded and did so, depositing us again in the side parking lot near all the shrubs. I swung around, but didn’t immediately see anyone matching the image on the phone. Then I spotted the tail end of a white overcoat disappearing around the Hoddle Street corner and raced after her.

As I ran into Hoddle Street, I spotted her. Like the woman in the photo, she was tall and thin, with short dark hair and a long, almost manly walk. She also was twenty yards away and heading briskly for a taxi.

“Miss Sands?” I had to yell to be heard over the roar of passing traffic. “Can I talk to you?”

Thankfully, she paused and looked over her shoulder, a frown marring her pale, lightly lined features. I’d expected Genevieve Sands to be a much older woman, for some reason, but she looked to be in her midforties, if that. “Do I know you?”

I slowed to a walk, dug my badge out of my handbag, and showed it just long enough for her to see the badge but not read the finer print that said I was vamp council rather than anything more official.

“I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

She frowned, her amber gaze skating my length briefly before rising to mine. I had the feeling that I’d been found wanting—and it oddly reminded me of Lauren Macintyre’s initial response to my presence.

“In regard to what?” She looked down the length of her long, Roman nose at me, her voice cool and collected.

I hesitated. “John Nadler.”

She turned fully around, her handbag clasped in front of her like a shield and her expression puzzled. “Who?”

“John Nadler, a businessman who recently died.” I stopped in front of her and forced a smile. “I believe you’re one of his three beneficiaries.”

She blinked. “In what way?”

“As in, he’s dead and you’ve been named in his will.”

“Why on earth would I be named in the will of a man I don’t know?”

“I don’t know.” I frowned. If she was putting on an act, then it was a good one. And yet there was something about her, an energy radiating off her that had the hackles rising at the back of my neck. “You haven’t been contacted by his lawyers?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” She hesitated. “But I’ve been out of town on business for a few weeks. It is possible that their communication is being held at the post office along with my other mail.”

Which was a perfectly legitimate excuse, so why didn’t I believe it?

“Is that why you’re using one of the storage units here? Because you’ve been away?”

She frowned. “What on earth has my renting a storage unit here got to do with being the beneficiary of a man I don’t know?”

“Please, Ms. Sands, just answer the question.”

She huffed somewhat haughtily, then said, “I’ve been renting the unit for several months now. My house is quite small and I needed somewhere secure to stock several valuable items.”

I pulled my phone out and pretended to look up some notes. “And is your unit G-18?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “I’m really not seeing the connection here.”

“It’s in regard to the ongoing investigation into Nadler’s death,” I said. “We believe there might be some connection to your unit. Would it be possible for us to have a look at it?”

“No, it would not. Not without a warrant.” She paused, looking me up and down. “Produce one, and I’ll be more than happy to comply.”

“That will take a few hours. It really would—”

“I do not care about what is easy or not,” she cut in coldly. “The law is the law, young lady, and I will not be railroaded into doing anything that might not be advantageous to myself.”

“I’m not implying that you’re in any way involved—”

“Then what are you implying?”

“As I said, I’m merely trying to tie up some loose ends.”

“Well, this is one end that will remain loose until you get the proper paperwork, and not before.”

Okay
, then. I forced another smile. “If you happen to remember just where you know John Nadler from, could you perhaps give me a call?”

“That I can do.” She took out an old-fashioned notebook and pen, then looked at me pointedly. “Number?”

I gave her my cell phone number, then added, “I’m sorry to have delayed you so long, Ms. Sands.”

She nodded, tucked her notebook back into her bag, then turned and strode to the still-waiting taxi.

“What do you think?” I asked, as she climbed into the cab and slammed the door.

“I could not read her.”

I glanced at him, surprised. “That seems to be happening an awful lot these days.”

He shrugged. “There
are
humans we cannot read.”

“You said it was rare.”

“It is. We just seem to be coming across more of them than usual.”

“So she
is
human?”

“Yes.” He glanced at me. “Why?”

“Because there was something about her that didn’t feel right.”

“Well, given she was exiting a storage locker containing a sorceress’s transport gate, it is very possible she is either in league with said sorceress, or the sorceress herself.”

“It can’t be the latter.” I watched the taxi’s blinker come on as it readied to pull away from the curb.

“Why not?”

“Because she didn’t have the same build as Lauren Macintyre.”

“I cannot see—”

“Face-shifters can change only their
facial
shape, not their bodies.”

“That does not mean there cannot be those who
are
able to do a full-body shift.”

“If there is, I’ve never heard of them.” As the taxi pulled into the traffic, I added, “I’m going to follow her.”