And yet…
There was a presence. I couldn't see it, couldn't smell it, but it was there. It tugged at my senses and teased my memories—an itch I couldn't quite scratch.
I frowned and climbed out of the car. The air was crisp and cool, and the breeze drifting in from the direction of Vinny's building was thick with the scent of vampire. It wasn't them I was sensing. It was something else.
Someone else.
I locked the door then shifted shape and took to the sky in my seagull form. Given I wasn't sure what it was I was sensing, it seemed the safer bet. I might be able to wrap myself in shadows, but that didn't hide my body scent or body heat, and I couldn't risk one or the other being discovered. And most supernaturals tended not to look skyward for shadows.
I drifted around the building, trying to pinpoint the location of the odd sensation. I didn't get much more than the fact that it seemed to be coming from the heart of Vinny's building. I wheeled around and headed for the nearest tree, perching on one of the bigger middle branches where a gull's webbed feet could rest more easily.
I'd barely landed when that odd sensation got stronger, burning across my skin. It felt like the heat of lust, but it was almost as if there was some sort of screen between me and that sensation; I could feel it, but wasn't affected.
Of that, I could only be glad. I'd felt that sort of heat once before, and there had been no protecting screen that time…
My thoughts froze. I had felt that sensation before, and on more than one occasion.
The first time had been in Vinny's den, when she'd tried her emo wiles on me.
And the other times had been in the last couple of nights, in the dreams that had plagued me.
It wasn't Kye causing the restless, unbridled lust that disturbed my sleep and drained my strength. It was an emo vampire, somehow feeding from me from a distance. No wonder I felt so goddamn tired—it wasn't lack of sleep, but rather the energy I was losing through dreaming.
Whether the vampire responsible was this stranger or someone else, I had no idea, but I sure as hell was going to find out. And stop it, before it killed me.
Like it had more than likely killed those other women.
The sensation sharpened and, a heartbeat later, a man stepped out of Vinny's building. He was tall and lean, with dark hair and sallow-looking skin. But he moved with a predator's grace, even if his hands were shoved deep into his pockets and his shoulders hunched.
He walked across the pavement and disappeared down a side street. I took wing, following him from a safe distance, not wanting to chance the fact that an emo wouldn't sense me. I had no idea what they were capable of, and while blood vamps usually couldn't sense the heartbeat of a gull this high up, I had no idea if an emo vamp would have similar restrictions when it came to sensing emotions.
He swung into another street, his strides purposeful and long. A vamp who was sure of himself, despite the outward image he was projecting.
He went down another side street and climbed into a blue four wheel drive. I dipped low enough to memorize the plate number, then continued to follow the car. He didn't flatten his foot, so it was easy enough to keep up.
I wasn't entirely surprised when he parked two streets away from Dante's. The threads twining together our two separate murders seemed to be getting thicker and stronger.
I fluttered down to the pavement, shifting several feet from the ground and landing somewhat awkwardly, running forward before gaining my balance. At least I didn't land on my nose—that had been a common feature in the early months of my learning to fly.
My sweater survived the experience—or at least was still wearable—but my bra was, as usual shredded. I pulled it off and wished I could find a brand that actually survived the shift into seagull form. Or that Jack would approve my request to start charging the cost of replacements to the Directorate. They were destroyed in the course of my job, after all.
I dumped the silky remains in the nearest bin and followed my quarry. He headed straight for Dante's and went inside, but I stopped in the shadows a street away. I didn't want to confront either Dante's or its owner right now.
And maybe I didn't have to. Not if Kye was here, watching and waiting for his target. I might not want to see the bastard, but I'd damn well use him if it meant an end to these cases.
I turned on my heel and walked away from the building. Kye would be using the latest technology, which meant he wouldn't be close, as the receiving range on spy equipment these days was incredible.
Like most of Melbourne, the streets in this area were set out in neat little squares. I walked around them, gradually widening the search. I was a good five streets away before I felt the familiar tingle of his presence.
I stopped, scenting the night, trying to pinpoint his position. The air held little more than the smell of an oncoming storm, but it didn't matter. My soul knew where he was—all I had to do was let instinct run free.
And that was something I didn't want to risk.
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Fully unleashing the wolf to find him would be dangerous. Her hunger for him was stronger than ever, and once I released control, I feared I might not get it back.
The simple fact was, the two parts of me were at war. And no matter which part won, I would lose.
I gnawed lightly at my bottom lip and walked forward, trying to pinpoint his location without actually unleashing the hunter. His presence was elusive—awareness of him might burn at my skin, but it just wasn't strong enough to grab and pin down.
In the end, I had no choice. It was either go into the club and face Dante, or unleash the wolf and face the man who might well destroy everything I held dear.
It said a lot about my distaste for Dante that the second of those two options seemed the better one.
I took another deep breath then shifted into my wolf form. Instantly the air came alive with a myriad of delicious scents that teased my senses and made my soul want to hunt. And the most delicious one of all wasn't actually a scent, but rather the pull of one wild soul to another.
I turned and trotted down a side street. Three houses down and I'd found him.
I shifted back to human form, then pushed open the front gate and walked up the steps. The door opened before I neared and he was standing there, his shirt and jeans undone, revealing the flat muscular plains of his stomach and tantalizing glimpses of pubic hair. I stopped, staring at him, neither of us saying anything. But his eyes were wild and hungry. The hunter in him was free; as free as mine.
As hungry as mine.
I took two steps and was in his arms. His arms went around my waist as his lips crushed mine, his kiss fierce and bruising and passionate. I groaned deep in my throat and tore off his shirt, letting my hands explore the heated expanse of his skin, reveling in the way his flesh leapt and twitched under my touch. He pushed me back against the door frame so hard I grunted in shock and pain. It turned to a gasp of pleasure as his hands thrust under my sweater and flicked my aching nipples.
He chuckled low in his throat then grabbed the edges of the sweater, hauling it over my head and roughly tossing it to the floor. Then his mouth was on my breasts, alternatively kissing and nipping, making me shudder, making me burn. I threw back my head, enjoying the sensations shaking my body, wanting it to last and yet wanting more of him. All of him.
I slid my hands down his sides, then gripped the waist of his jeans and boxers and thrust them down. He kicked free of them, his mouth moving from my breasts to my lips, his hunger even more fierce as his hands fumbled with the button of my jeans then pulled down the zipper. My jeans and panties quickly joined his on the floor. He pressed his body hard against mine, until it felt like the heat and hardness of him was covering me as securely as a blanket.