Where we made love, again and again, until our bodies were spent and our wolves sated and all I wanted to do was cry.
But I managed to place the tracer at the base of his neck, just near the hairline as I'd been told, so at least the night was not a total waste.
When we finally slept, it wasn't wrapped in each others arms, but apart—a physical sign of a distance that would never be bridged, no matter how much fate and our souls might wish it.
When I woke, I was alone.
I lay in the bed with the sheets twisted around my body, listening to the silence, drawing in the air.
Kye wasn't here.
Hadn't been here for several hours, if the fading aroma of him was anything to go by.
Part of me wanted to hope that by giving in, I'd won the war, but I knew that would be a false hope. Kye hadn't believed I'd meant what I'd said, so he'd be back. And probably when I least expected it.
I untangled the sheets from my legs and sat up. Despite the long hours of intense and often rough sex, I felt refreshed. Maybe because when I finally had slept, I hadn't dreamed.
I glanced around the room, noting for the first time it had little in the way of comfort. Beside the bed and a small, somewhat moth eaten armoire, there was little else in the room. No personal knickknacks, no paintings or mirrors, no clothes lying about. I frowned and walked across to the armoire. It was empty.
A walk through the rest of the house gave the same result. Kye hadn't just left the bed, he'd left the premises—lock, stock and decent coffee.
I cursed myself for being an idiot and trusting that he'd actually keep his half of the bargain, and stalked into the bathroom to catch a shower. There was no way I was leaving this house reeking of him.
And there, resting on the top of a clean towel that was sitting next to the basin, were several sheets of paper. A quick glance at them revealed not only a printout of my suspect, but what information Kye had found on him.
I wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused.
I had my shower and got dressed, then grabbed the papers and headed for the front door.
Only to run straight into my brother's chest.
Chapter Ten
"Ow," I said, rubbing my nose as I stepped back. "What the hell are you doing here, Rhoan?"
"I was about to ask you the same fucking question." He'd shoved his hands on his hips and was glaring at me fiercely.
I frowned and wondered what the hell was going on. "I'm getting information about the case. Why?"
"Because you car was found abandoned over near Vinny's, your com-link is turned off, and you weren't answering your phone." He thrust his fingers through his hair, and for the first time I noticed the tension in him. "We thought the worst."
I raised my eyebrows. "Why would you think that? You've always known when I'm in serious trouble in the past."
"Serious trouble, yes, but there's been times when you've been hurt and in trouble, and I haven't felt a thing." He hesitated and looked sheepish. "I guess I just panicked."
"Whatever game Kye is playing, it doesn't involve hurting me physically." Not yet, at least. "And my com-link isn't turned off. Not completely, anyway. I could hear Jack. He just can't hear me."
Given what I'd been doing last night, that had been a very sensible option.
"Well, the Directorate is getting nothing from your comlink, just an odd sort of deadness. Hence the panic." His gaze swept me, as if reassuring himself that I really was okay, then rose again. He frowned. "When did you start wearing an earring?"
"I'm not."
He reached out and plucked something off my left ear. It was small and round, with a blue stone at its heart. "Now I can feel you."
I barely even heard what he was saying, thanks to the fact that the minute he removed the earring, Jack's voice began to rebound loudly inside my head.
"Jack, slow down, I can't understand a damn word you're saying," I said, then added quickly, before he had a chance to blast me. "It appears I picked up some sort of electronic device that was blocking the com-link and maybe even telepathy."
"There's no device out there capable of that." His voice was gruff and it wasn't all anger. Concern was there as well, and that warmed me.
"Then maybe we'd better check out the device Rhoan just took off my ear, because I only began hearing you once it was removed."
Had Kye planted it on me? I couldn't remember him actually doing it, but then, he'd played my body like a maestro last night and would have had any number of chances to stick something on my skin without me being aware. After all, I had done exactly that to him. But why would he bother? He surely had to know that me being incommunicado would bring the cavalry running, and that we'd find the bug or whatever it actually was sooner rather than later. Especially given how obvious it was.
Maybe he simply didn't realize the com-link was also a tracker. Or maybe he simply enjoyed the thought of creating a little chaos.
"There's several bits of good news to make up for the bad," I added. "I managed to place the tracer on Kye—"
"Excellent," Jack cut in. "Once research hones in on the signal, we'll be able to monitor the bastard's movements. And we'll know whether he's anywhere near if we have another murder."
True. And I really did hope he wasn't, because that would only create a bigger mess than there already was.
"I have a name for you to run, too." I glanced down at the papers Kye had left me. "Carlos Martez, born in Spain twenty nine years ago, immigrated to Australia when he was nine. I have several photos of him I can send through, but no license details."
Although why Kye hadn't retrieved that when he'd gotten the name is anyone's guess. Maybe he didn't want to make things easy for me.
As if things would ever be easy when it came to him and me.
"And why are we chasing this man?"
"Because I saw him coming out of Vinny's last night, and he's some sort of emo vamp." I hesitated, then decided not to mention the fact that I'd probably gotten several nocturnal visits from him. Jack would only get mad that I hadn't mentioned it before now—although given that, until last night, I hadn't actually suspected my sexy dreams were more than just dreams, I couldn't really be blamed for that. Besides, until I knew for sure who was doing it and why, it was better not to jump the gun. All I really knew for sure was that it wasn't Vinny; it didn't have her feel. "I actually think he's the one behind the murders of the two women. Interestingly, when I was tracking him last night, he disappeared into Dante's."
"That doesn't mean the two cases are definitely connected."
It didn't mean they weren't, either. "I know. And I have no evidence connecting him to the murders. But I think we need to talk to both him and Vinny."
"I'll get Benson straight onto the trace."
"Have you gotten anywhere with the council? Are any of them willing to talk to us?"
"Given that your attempt to talk to Leon Gordon resulted in him losing his head, the answer to that is a definite no."
"Even Dante?"
"Dante is many things, but a fool isn't one of them. He won't risk talking to you if the others have refused. It would reflect on him badly."
I'd bet a hundred bucks that he would talk to me if I asked—but the cost would be sex and I really didn't want to go down that path. "We need to know what the hell they did to get someone so pissed off at them."
"I realize that, Riley, and it is being dealt with."
Meaning his sister—who happened to be the head of the Directorate—was dealing with it. "Good. Let me know if you get anything."
"No, Riley, I'm going to keep the information all to myself."