"So she didn't contact him about anything?"
"Nope. Last story she did for him was an entertainment piece on a new nightclub."
"There's a new wolf club? Why didn't anyone tell me?"
He grinned. "If you read the newspapers more, you might have known about it. But it's not strictly a wolf club." He picked up a matchbook off his desk and flicked it toward me. "It's the first mixed-race club allowed in Victoria."
I caught the matchbook one-handed. It was black, with "Mirror Image" written on the front flap in a white, basic font. Underneath this was a phone number and address, and nothing else. I flipped open the lid, and inside sat two neat little rows of matches, their tips black instead of the usual red. There was nothing on the back of the matchbook.
I looked back at my brother. "Mixed-race? As in, open to humans and nonhumans?"
"Yep. It operates in the exact same fashion as regular clubs."
I raised an eyebrow. "What happens when the moon is rising?"
"Nothing. They're open all year around."
"Really? Have the laws changed or are the owners just crazy?"
The old rules gave clubs the right to exclude human entry entirely—and this was a good thing, because were loving could sometimes get extremely rough, especially during the full moon phase. The fact of the matter was, humans just were physically unable to handle it. And I didn't mean sexually. We could shift shape to heal any wounds received during intercourse. They could not. What might be a deep but easily healed wound for a were could be fatal for a human. And the outcry after such a death would be huge, even if the act was consensual.
Of course, the idiots in parliament had been trying to legislate a change for ages, but the Australia-wide protests from both the supernatural community and the saner section of humanity had so far managed to stall them. Or so I'd thought.
"They haven't changed," Rhoan said. "They've just been… ignored. This club is operating under a trial license for a year. If every thing goes well, the current law forbidding human entry into wolf clubs will be overturned."
"That's just stupid."
"Humans have always wanted what they can't have. It's the whole forbidden fruit effect."
That was an effect not restricted to humans, but in this case, the laws were there for a very good reason—the protection of humans.
"This club would have to have a hell of an insurance bill." I looked at the matchbook, flipping it over and still seeing nothing of interest. "Did you ferret out the article she wrote?"
"I've requested a copy be sent to us." He paused. "Adrienne is very well liked by her coworkers, you know. That's surprising, considering her family."
"I guess there has to be one good apple in every bad barrel." I took a sip of coffee, then asked, "No whispers of her sexuality, then?"
He raised a pale eyebrow "No. Why?"
"Because she's sharing her apartment with a woman Blake had no idea existed, and I found that woman overdosed in Adrienne's bed yesterday afternoon."
"That doesn't mean there's a relationship. They could be good friends."
"And how many people are willing to off themselves over the disappearance of a good friend?"
"Not many, but then, it wouldn't be the first time someone emotionally unstable has done such a thing."
True. "Nothing else of interest?"
He shook his head. "I haven't had the chance to do anything more. I've been chasing after this damn baby vamp sucking the life out of folk in the Footscray district."
"When will these idiots realize we make the creator pay for the crimes of his young?" The Directorate wasted too much of its time ridding the world of rogue baby vamps when there were often greater evils to worry about.
He snorted, "For some of them, probably never."
"What, their brains go out the door when they become a vampire?"
"Think of it this way. Expecting some vamps to control their urge to create underlings is like handing out free condoms and expecting horny teenagers to actually use them. The excitement of the moment always gets in the way."
Amusement ran through me. "That's the first time I've heard of vampires being compared to horny teenagers."
He shrugged. "It works, though. Most of these babies are created by vamps who are still young themselves and who love the feel of power it gives them."
"So have you caught any trace of his daytime hidey-hole yet?"
"Narrowed it down to a couple of buildings. I'm off hunting once Jack gets here for his daily pep talk."
I grinned. Pep talks weren't exactly Jack's forte, which is exactly why we referred to his morning rundowns that way. And it had the extra bonus of pissing him off—something I liked to do every now and again, just for the hell of it.
I tossed the matchbook in the air and caught it lightly. "I'll check this out once I talk to the girlfriend at the hospital."
"What girl in what hospital?" jack said, as he strode into the room.
"It's a missing persons case that may blow up to be a whole lot more."
He walked over to the coffee machine, filled up a cup, then said, "Tell me about it."
I did. He harrumphed. "I don't want it monopolizing your time, but keep me updated on progress all the same."
I nodded. At least I had the go-ahead to pull in Directorate resources if I needed to. "Has Cole handed in his report from the Richmond murder case?"
"It's in the system. Both parties involved tested as human."
"What? Impossible."
"Not according to the lab results."
"But he tore that poor woman apart. A human just isn't capable of that sort of strength."
"You mentioned possible vamp involvement in your report."
"Yeah, but if a vamp had been there, we would have smelled him."
He gave me the "look." "Not necessarily. Some of us do wash, you know."
I smiled. "Those of you who do are few and far between." Smelling like the grave seemed to be the "in" thing amongst Jack's lot. Though, admittedly, I did know some very nice-smelling vamps. Jack was one. Quinn was another. Even the cow smelled pleasant, though I was never likely to tell her that. "Besides, if there was someone else involved, wouldn't there have been some indication? Surely Cole and his team would have found something—some hint or clue to suggest this?"
"Not if our vamp was an extremely strong psychic."
"Can even the most powerful psychic push a human to superhuman extremes? I've never heard of a talent that could endow someone with that sort of strength."
"There's a lot of talents out there that we know a whole lot of nothing about," Rhoan commented. "And there arc lots of labs playing around with all sorts of enhancing drugs."
"A comforting thought for those of us on the front line," I muttered.
"Give it a few more years, and you won't even blink at the sort of crap you see or find."
"Actually, that's a place I'm fighting to stay away from."
Rhoan's gaze met mine, gray eyes serious. "You won't have any other choice but to find that place in yourself. It's either that, or go mad."
"Then going mad is the better option."
I didn't want to have the skill to switch my emotions off. Didn't want to ever lose the anger and horror of walking into a crime scene and seeing another useless death. For good or for bad, I was now a guardian, but I'd be damned if I became just another cold-blooded killer.
Which my brother, for all that I loved him, could be. I'd seen it happen. Seen the switch flicked.
It was damn scary stuff.
"Business, people, business," Jack said. "Riley, I want you to go check the boyfriend's current residence. See if there's anything there that hints at supernatural or nonhuman involvement. Then check the girl's apartment and go talk to her parents."