"As you said, the councilors themselves know, and that information in available in their minds for those who know how to grab it."
"So who stole it and told you?"
I hesitated, knowing the answer wasn't going to make him any happier. "Kye."
"Well, that explains the party dress," Kade murmured.
I gave him a filthy look, but the damn man gave me an unrepentant grin, and I knew I was going to be subjected to an interrogation later.
"And what the hell was he doing hanging around Dante's?"
"He's working for a man who's not too happy about the fact that his wife is a blood whore."
"You warned him off killing the woman?"
"I did."
"Good. If the kill proceeds, we'll nab him. At least it'll mean one less monster of the streets."
I didn't say anything. I hadn't told Jack that Kye was my soul mate, but it was interesting that he used nab instead of kill. Maybe Quinn had mentioned it.
"That still doesn't explain how the bastard knew our victims—and Dante—are councilors," Jack continued.
I shrugged. "Apparently he got bored during the stakeout and started reading vampire minds. Haven was one of them."
"And you believe that's all he did? Because it's a bit of a damn coincidence that we have a hired killer hanging about Dante's at the same time we have a rash of beheadings."
"He denied beheading them. I believe him."
"And you confirmed his denial by reading his thoughts?"
I hesitated. "I actually can't. He's a siphon, remember, so he basically steals the strength of my own shields."
I didn't mention that I didn't even try—that I'd been too scared to try. Jack would never have understood reasoning like that.
"Meaning you can't be one hundred percent certain." Jack shook his head. "I want to know his movements. Grab a skin-tracker from research and place it on him."
"He'll find it—"
"Not these he won't."
I wouldn't bet on it, but I wasn't about to argue about the point. Not when Jack had that look in his eyes. "If our victims were councilors, why weren't we told? Surely it has some relevance?"
"Why would it? No one knows who the councilors are just so they can't become targets."
I frowned. "So how does the daily council business get run? There has to be some sort of public face for the council, doesn't there?"
"There's a general office if people wish to bring something to the council's notice. All decisions are filtered down the ranks via telepathy from the old ones."
Quinn was an old one. Was he one of the relayers of information? Somehow, I just couldn't see it. It seemed too passive for someone who'd once been a cazador.
"But it wasn't just Haven and Gateway. There's the other one—"
"Who we believe is Norman Garrent. He didn't report to the meeting last night, and hasn't been sighted for several nights."
"So, we do have three dead councilors. That suggests a pattern to me."
"Now that another one of them—Harvey Bastie—has also been found beheaded, I suspect you're right." He took a sip of his drink, and grimaced. But not, I suspected, because of the taste of the coffee. After all, while he might prefer the top shelf stuff, he didn't care what it tasted like, as long as it was hot. "Cole and his team are on their way there now. I want you to follow. Bastiel's housekeeper was killed as well."
Meaning it was possible her soul was hanging about for a chat. "I gather you—or the greater council—is currently in the process of warning the remaining members of the Melbourne council that there could be a psycho after them?"
"They knew after the first beheading."
It was a damn shame we hadn't. I blew out a breath, then glanced down as the computer beeped. The car had been stolen. The owner probably wouldn't be able to tell me much more than what was already in the police report, but I guess it still had to be chased up. I grabbed a pen and wrote down her name and address. "After Bastiel's, I'll head over to Vinny's and start the watch, but I've got a meeting with Dia at five-thirty. Can we get one of the night shift guys to take over after five?"
He frowned. "I'm not sure that this is the sort of case Dia can help us with."
"Right now, with no solids leads, I'm willing to give it a go. "
"Just don't sit there on my time drinking coffee and chatting about the weather," he said heavily. "Or I will take it out of your salary."
I grinned. "As if I would do that."
He harrumphed and walked out. I glanced at Kade. "You available to do some watching tomorrow?"
He grimaced. "It's not my favorite thing, you know that. Besides, I thought you wanted help with the beheadings? I can't do both."
He could if he really wanted to—but even as that thought crossed my mind, I knew I wasn't really being fair.
He had just as many unsolved cases on his plate as I did and Jack would be all over him if he dropped everything to help me.
Plus he had a family and babies to go home to, and I didn't.
Not yet, anyway, I thought with an inner shiver.
God, how would that change my life? How would it change my attitude to this job and the risks it involved?
It had taken me a long time to admit I actually enjoyed being a guardian, but the chase and the danger were extremely addictive. It was in my blood now and giving it up would not be easy.
But giving up one dream after another hadn't been easy, either, and having a baby was the last one left. The only one that I really had any chance of fully fulfilling.
It should have been an easy choice, a simple one. But it wasn't.
I liked what I did. Loved what I did. We made a difference, and that made the risks and the dangers worthwhile. And however much I might have fought become a guardian, it made me feel like I'd finally found something I was meant to do.
And yet, I didn't want any child of mine growing up without the love of a pack around him—or her—and that pack had to be more than just Liander, however much he might cherish our offspring if the worst happened. Rhoan and I only ever had our mother growing up, and however much she might have loved us, it wasn't pack. We were never considered pack, and that isolation had echoed through our relationships both as children and as grown-ups.
I didn't want that loneliness—that feeling of never really belonging—for any child of mine.
"Earth to Riley. Come in, Riley."
I blinked and glanced at Kade. "What?"
"I said, I'll do a couple of hours, but that's all I can manage."
"Great. What about around lunch time?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Another hot date with a certain werewolf?"
"It's not a date." More a battle of wills. "I don't want anyone killed, Kade, so I'll play his games until he gets tired of them or I can find something to pin on his ass and get him out of my hair."
"I'm sure if you tell Jack about the threat, he'll handle the situation appropriately."
"Maybe, but I'd prefer to handle it myself."
"Then I'll just hope that no one you care about ends up getting hurt, because I do not trust that man."
"Don't worry, neither do I." I collected my purse from the back of the chair, then walked across to his desk and kissed his cheek. "Don't suppose you'd like to help me out with one more thing?"
His gaze slid from my face to my breasts, which were on view thanks to the fact that the dress top had gaped forward when I bent over. "If it involves handling the beautiful ladies hanging in front of me, most definitely." I grinned and handed him the paper with Harriet Morgan's address on it. "Would you mind going to talk to this woman for me? Her car was seen leaving the beheading scene, but she reported it stolen the day before. Someone needs to talk to her and check her story."