But I didn't really think it could be them. I mean, why would they want me dead? They didn't know I'd sprung their little blackmailing operation, and even if they had noticed me at the club, why would they think I was a danger? They couldn't possibly know who I was, and if they had tried to do an identity search on me, it would have come up on the Directorate computers.
Yet that man at the club—the man who had smelled the same as Jared—had appeared to be hunting me after he'd almost sprung me in the camera room. I frowned, and asked, "In your experience, have you ever met two humans who smell the same?"
Rhoan raised an eyebrow. "That's an odd question."
"It's an odd problem." I explained what had happened at the club. "It was the same scent. The exact same scent. But he wasn't Jared."
"Easily explained if he was shapeshifter."
"Jared and the man in the club were both human, not Helki."
"There's no saying Helkis are the only ones who can shift into other human forms. I'm sure there's other nonhumans out there totally capable of shapeshifting. We just don't know about them yet."
"The operative word there is nonhuman. We're talking about humans."
"There's no reason why humans couldn't shift, either."
"They're humans. Humans don't do that sort of thing. It what makes them human, and us nonhuman."
"No, that's DNA. Humans are quite capable of all sorts of psychic skills."
"Shifting isn't a skill. It's part of our DNA pattern."
Rhoan popped another chocolate into his mouth, then said around it, "Were the body shapes similar?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "Why would that make a difference?"
"What if it's not shifting as we know it? What if it's more a gentle remolding? They can alter minor feature characteristics—nose, chin, ears, perhaps even hair—but major things like facial shape and eyes stay the same. It'd be enough to fool others, but it isn't actually a full shift. Not in the way we shift, anyway."
"Possible." Jared and the man in the club certainly had the same color eyes. "If that's true, then we perhaps have our first link between the club and the island."
"But still no link between Adrienne, the other murdered women, and the club. After all, Jared wasn't involved with any of the women, was he?"
"Well, if he's some sort of face-shifter, how would we know? He could have appeared as anyone to them. Besides, Adrienne didn't sleep with anyone up there."
"Have you spoken to the partners or parents of the other women who have disappeared?" Rhoan asked. "Asked them if their daughters mentioned meeting anyone on the island?"
I shook my head. "Haven't really had the time to follow that up."
"I might do it, then. See if a clue shakes loose."
"Ta." I downed another chocolate, then asked, "So, how is Kellen holding up after last night?"
"I was wondering when you'd get around to asking."
My eyebrows went up again at the censure in his voice. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"That means, you claim to care about the man, you say you want a long-term relationship with him, and yet he's never first in your thoughts." He tilted his head and studied me for a minute. "Tell me, if it had been Quinn with you last night, would you have taken so long to ask?"
If it had been Quinn with me, I wouldn't have been alone on that roof and probably wouldn't have been shot. But Quinn and I were history, no matter how much my heart, ached at the thought of him.
But then, how much of what I felt for Quinn was real, and how much of it was vampire-implanted suggestion? I never would know, and in the end, that was a relationship killer more than anything else he had done.
"Kellen and I haven't known each other that long."
"You've known him about the same length of time as you've known Quinn."
"But Quinn was actively discouraging my interest in Kellen. It's only these past few weeks that we've really played it basically one-on-one."
"Basically is not wholly."
"There speaks the man who has spent half his life avoiding a commitment to the man he professes to love."
"And you've spent half your life nagging me about. It's payback time, sister dearest."
I grinned and shoved another chocolate into my mouth. "So," I said, around the gooey peppermint mess, "when do I get out of this joint?"
He glanced at his watch. "The doctor was supposed to be here an hour ago to give you a checkup. If you pass that, you can leave."
Meaning I'd better not mention the lingering lightheadedness, or I'd be stuck here another night with the antiseptic reek and the ghosts.
"Why don't you go see what's keeping him? Otherwise, I'm just going to check myself out."
"You can try." He rose and gave me a somewhat cheeky grin. "I am, however, bigger than you and I will drag you back to this bed if I have to."
"Yeah, right." I waved a hand at the doorway. "Just go find that doctor."
He headed out. Five seconds later, Kellen came in, bearing the biggest bunch of flowers I'd ever seen. Pleasure shot through me.
"Hey," I said, by way of greeting. "No one's ever brought me flowers in the hospital before."
"You almost didn't get them now," he said, with a sexy grin that had my hormones hopping in delight. "Except the flower seller practically accosted me and accused me of not caring."
"Guerrilla tactics for flower sellers? Man, things must be tough in that business."
"Well, there weren't many men getting by her without buying some flowers, let me tell you."
He placed the flowers on the bedside table, then sat down on the edge of the bed and caught my hand in his. His fingers were as warm as his smile, and yet he seemed tense. Maybe he hated hospitals just as much as I did.
"So," he said, "how are you feeling?"
"Fine." I shrugged. "Better when I get out of this place."
"So no aftereffects of being shot by silver?"
"No." I hesitated. "But it wasn't the first time I've been shot with silver, and probably won't be the last."
"No, I guess not."
I frowned at the edge in his voice. "What's wrong?"
His gaze searched mine for a minute, his green eyes curiously flat. "You don't know?"
"Know what?"
He snorted softly. "Guess I had that coming."
"What?" God, I felt like I was watching a foreign movie, with the main character speaking a language I just didn't understand.
"It doesn't matter."
"It obviously does, so explain what the hell you're talking about."
"I shouldn't have to explain, Riley."
"So consider me thick and do." And then, suddenly, realization hit me. "You think you should have been able to protect me?"
My voice was incredulous, and annoyance shot through his eyes.
"I'm an alpha. It's part of my job to protect those I care about."
"But that's ridiculous. A, because I can generally protect myself, and B, because the shooter was a vampire and regular werewolves haven't the speed to go up against one."
"You did. Have."
"But I'm not your regular, everyday werewolf."
"Something I'm seeing more and more."
I raised my eyebrows at the deepening edge in his voice. "It's not like I've ever hidden what I was from you." Not when we started going out for real, anyway.
"No, but hearing it and seeing it are two entirely different things." He shuddered. "You didn't even react when you saw that man's brains splattered all over the sidewalk. Not emotionally, anyway."
"Because I was too busy trying not to get shot."
"People trying not to get shot don't get up and race toward their attacker. That's not normal, everyday behavior."
But I wasn't a normal, everyday person. I hadn't been when I was born, and was even further from that now.