Chapter Three
"That's impossible." I stepped closer and waved a hand through the space of the passenger seat. It met with no resistance. No invisible beings sitting there, then.
"Apparently not, because the car is empty." He opened the back door and felt inside. His hand, like mine, found no resistance.
He slammed the door shut and the sound echoed across the windswept night. He didn't say anything, just stood there, his hands on his hips as he studied the nearby buildings and shadows. After a moment, he walked over to the limo.
While he talked to the driver, I grabbed my vid-phone and dialed the Directorate. Jack would undoubtedly still be at the warehouse, but Salliane, the vamp who'd taken my place as a guardian liaison and Jack's main assistant, was on duty.
"Sal, it's Riley Jenson," I said, when her dusky features came online. "I need you to do me a favor."
"That depends." Her husky voice was reserved, as it usually was whenever she was talking to me. "On whether you can be bothered using my real name or not."
I rolled my eyes. Vampires—even the ones that washed—could be fucking annoying at times. But as far as battles of wills went, this was one I was willing to cede. Though what her damn problem with me was I had no idea. And Jack was no help—he kept insisting I was imagining things.
Which was just more evidence to support my theory that he was in lust with his caramel-haired liaison.
"Salliane, I need you to do me a favor."
"What?"
The glint in her brown eyes was evident, even down the phone line. She liked the fact I'd backed away. Enjoy the moment, cow, because it sure as hell won't be happening again.
"I need a plate traced." I gave her the details.
"This guardian business?"
"Yes."
"I'll check with Jack."
Not just a cow, but a bitch as well. "Fine. Just trace the plate."
"Hang on."
I did, my gaze moving to Quinn, watching as he turned to study a small alley to the right of the limo.
Sal came back online. "It's registered to a Karen Herbert."
"You want to do a background check on her for me?"
"You sure this is Directorate business?"
"Yes," I said, even as I was thinking, Just do it, bitch. But I wisely held my tongue.
"I'll see what I can find and give you a call back."
"Thanks."
I hung up and called Jack immediately, but got switched to voice mail. Maybe the cow had him on speed dial. I left a message telling him why I'd asked for the trace and the background check, then hung up and walked across to Quinn. "The car belongs to a Karen Herbert. She's not a disgruntled ex-girlfriend, is she?"
"Never heard of her."
Didn't think the answer was going to be that easy. I glanced at the alley he was continuing to study. Something scratched at my senses—a presence that was there, and yet not. Which didn't exactly make sense. I frowned and looked at Quinn again. "So who wants to kill you now?"
He smiled at that. "I'm a very successful, often ruthless businessman, and a vampire besides. Those two alone give me more enemies than most."
"It would be helpful if you could narrow the field a little."
He glanced at me, eyes again obsidian stone, in which there was no life, no warmth. He suspected someone, that much was obvious. But he wasn't about to tell me, and I had to wonder why. He might have a trunk-load of secrets that he chose to keep, but this shouldn't have been one of them. I had the right to know, simply because I was now involved.
But all he said was, "Something hides in that alley."
It drew my attention away from him again, as he'd undoubtedly intended. My senses crawled outward, and the sensation of being watched by something indefinable increased, until my stomach flip-flopped in reaction. "What is it?"
My voice was a whisper, and he answered in kind. "A presence I haven't felt in centuries."
I raised an eyebrow. "What sort of presence?"
He shook his head. "Wait here."
I caught his arm, halting him as he stepped away. "You can't go in there alone."
"I must. He will not speak if you are with me."
"Why not?"
He touched my face briefly, his fingers so warm against my suddenly chilled skin. "Just trust me, and stay here."
I did trust him. I was just afraid for him, and besides, two was always better than one when in a fight—a fact I knew too well after a childhood of misadventures.
I crossed my arms and watched as he walked into the alleyway. The shadows wrapped around him as gently as a lover, whisking him from sight. He wasn't even visible through infrared. And it took every ounce of will I had to remain near the car, to wait as he'd asked. To trust that he knew what he was doing.
Which he did, of course. You didn't get to be over twelve hundred years old without gaining more than a little common sense. Not to mention some usable fighting skills.
After a while, the wind died down again and the night grew colder. Within minutes of that, it began to rain—not as hard as before, but rain was rain.
I shivered and rubbed my arms, torn between the need to charge into the alley and see what was taking so long and the desire to get into the limo and out of the weather. I'd just about decided on the former when Quinn walked out of the alley.
He was whole and unhurt, and relief swept through me But it only lasted a second, because his anger hit me, the force of it a tidal wave that crashed over my defenses and left me struggling for air.
"Quinn," I somehow managed to gasp.
The wave of emotion stopped immediately. "Sorry."
I took a deep breath, blew it out slowly. My limbs were shaking and weak, as if I'd been winded by several hard blows In many respects, that's exactly what had happened—only the blows were empathic rather than physical.
Odd that it only ever seemed to happen with this vampire.
"What happened?"
"Nothing much."
His voice was distant, his gaze, though it was on me, vacant—as if he wasn't actually seeing me or our surroundings, but something else altogether. Something internal.
"What do you mean, nothing much? Who was in the alley? What did he want?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
I crossed my arms and glared at him "So we're back to that old bullshit, are we?"
He blinked at that, and life came back into his dark gaze. "This is a different type of bullshit, believe me."
"I'd love to Quinn, but it seems that any time I ask a hard question—like, where were you born or what the hell was in that alley—you revert to the same old song. Well, it's not good enough. Not if you want to be something more than just another fuck."
His gaze hardened. "There are some things I cannot explain. And there are promises made long again that bind me—much as I might not want them to."
"Meaning?"
"I am forbidden to speak to you about who was in that alley, and what I now must do."
"Why? I thought the only people who could order you to do anything were vamps older than you. And whatever it was in that alley, it wasn't a vampire." Or anything else that I recognized.
"No." He hesitated, stepping forward and reaching for me with one hand.
I jerked away from his touch and stepped back. "I've only ever asked one thing of you—the truth. And it seems to me you are as unwilling as ever to give me that."
"This is not my story to tell." His soft voice was as angry as I'd ever heard it. "Nor have I the time to stand here and argue. I must go."
"Then let's go."
"Not you. Me. You can take the other car—"
"Like hell I will!"
He sighed. "Riley, please. I don't want to force you to do what is sensible."