"He knows about the Fravardin. He knows that they are loyal to me, and only to me." He pressed his weight against my hand, testing my strength, my will. "I have warned him that if anything else happens to you, they will hunt him down and they will kill him."
Surprise rippled through me. My gaze searched his, but I could see no lie in his eyes, nor sense it in his words. "Why would you do that? Why not use them to protect yourself in the same manner?"
He moved a hand, and brushed his fingers down my cheek. His touch was icy compared to the fiery lust flaying my skin. "What's the point? I will be dead in five or six years anyway."
"But if you don't use them to protect yourself, you might be dead in five or six days." Or five or six hours.
"While I am alive, the Fravardin will do their utmost to protect me. When I am dead, they will keep watch over you."
The thought of having a couple of ghostly creatures hanging about trying to protect me was enough to make me shiver. "Why would they bother when you're dead and the payments stop?"
His aura went on high, bathing me with a fervor as strong as the sun itself. Sweat began to trickle down my spine. Even though I had my shields up high, it was hard to ignore the assault on my senses.
"Because it is written in my will that they will continue to get a retainer as well as the estate in Gisborne, where the tribe currently lives, provided certain conditions are met."
Spirits being paid? How weird was that? "Can they be killed?"
"All things living can be killed. It's just harder to kill what cannot be seen."
"If your boss knows about them, then he probably knows what can kill them."
"Undoubtedly. Problem is, unlike vampires, they don't show up on infrared, and you're the first person I know who has actually sensed them."
First person besides him, obviously. "That's because I'm special—and why crazy men want a piece of me." I thrust him away from me. The cool air eddied around my skin, as pleasurable as water on a hot day. "You need to tell me about your boss."
Annoyance flared in his eyes. "And give you an excuse to walk away? I think not."
"Then tell me about Roberta Whitby—she's the Helki alpha, isn't she?"
He nodded, and crossed his arms. "The pack has gotten fat off the pickings of crime."
"And Roberta has inserted her son into Government ranks?"
He smiled. "No. The true power of a country often lies not in the reins of officialdom, but rather, in the strength of the crime syndicates."
I raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"Is it not often said that the Yakuza is the true power in Japan?"
"They're not a power here, though."
"No, but there are crime syndicates nonetheless, and some of them are extremely powerful, even to the extent of having 'relationships' with certain Government departments."
Was the Directorate one of those departments? Was that how Gautier had become a guardian? Given that Alan Brown, the recruitment officer, was being blackmailed, it didn't take a genius to guess that maybe he was the connection between the Directorate and the man behind the mutants. But how was that happening if Jack and Rhoan could find no sign of messages being passed?
"I'm little more than a glorified secretary," I said blandly. "I wouldn't know about such things."
"Then learn, because the man you seek is now in charge of one of them—and he plans to be the only one that matters."
I studied him for a moment, then said, "I gather he's replaced rather than overthrown?"
Misha nodded. "Far easier to step into successful shoes rather than work your way up the ranks."
"But how? If this man is as powerful as you say, he'd be too wary to let strangers near him."
His smile was cold. Amused. "But not wary enough when it comes to longtime lovers."
"Roberta?"
He nodded. "The Helki pack has long done his dirty work. When Roberta came back onto the scene after her years in Roscoe's labs, she used her aura to enrapture the man. They were lovers for three years before the replacement happened."
Long enough for Roberta to become a trusted lover. Long enough for her to learn his ways and secrets. "So these labs where the crossbreeding is happening—they're not the recent innovation you've led me to believe, but ones that the syndicate have had for a while."
He nodded again. "Talon and I were the only ones who actually set up our own laboratories—though in Talon's case, it was merely to continue our lab father's work."
Because he'd kept what remained of the research notes. "And not very successfully."
Amusement touched his eyes. "He'd be hurt to hear you say that."
"Like I care. How long have these other labs been in existence?"
"They've long been used for drug development. Gene experiments, with all its potential rewards, was the next logical step, and one they took some fifty years ago."
I rubbed my arms, trying to ward off a sudden chill.
Trying to ignore the premonition that sometime in the future I was going to see a whole lot more of those labs than I ever wanted. Only this time from the right side, not the wrong side.
"Meaning the man in charge is in his seventies?"
"No. Meaning the previous head of the syndicate began the work, and the current head continues it."
"So how old is he? The man your boss became, I mean."
"Early forties." Something glimmered in his eyes. Amusement. Or perhaps anticipation. "He holds on to power through bloody force. Be wary when you go up against him."
Going up against him wasn't something I intended. I wasn't a fool—and when that man got his comeuppance, it would be via Directorate hands, not mine. Though I would most certainly be there. "When I was reading the spirit lizard's mind, I saw a house with lots of mixed-heritage creatures. Is he building up an army, like you once mentioned?"
"Not an army, but definitely a force of creatures most will fear. You destroyed some of his winged weapons a few months ago, and there is nothing ready yet to replace them. He has about forty other creatures at his disposal, though." He paused. "He also intends to hire them out—at great cost, of course."
I nodded. Misha had already mentioned that little sideline. "So he intends using his creatures to help his quest in becoming the only syndicate that matters in Australia?"
"Yes."
Meaning we might be faced with an underworld war? Wonderful. "And that house? Was it his?"
He nodded. "It's one of many retreats he owns."
"Care to share the location?"
He stepped forward, and the wash of his desire had my skin burning again. "Care to share a little sex?"
"If you share this villain's name."
I raised a hand to prevent him coming any closer. He caught it, raising it to his lips, kissing my fingertips almost tenderly. If not for the cold determination in his eyes, it would almost have been easy to believe he cared. Though maybe, in some weird way, he did. Maybe he just equated caring with owning.
"I cannot tell you his name," he said, switching his grip and attempting to tug me forward into his arms.
I resisted, digging my heels in, glad I'd worn sensible shoes rather than stilettos, which would have me tipping A over T into his arms. "You've told me just about everything else about him, so why not a name?"
"Because, as I've said before, I'm not able to say his name. He has placed a restraint on me that forbids it."
"It makes no sense to place a restriction on his name when you can blab about everything else."
"Ah, but he does not realize I can blab about everything else. I was strong enough to shield certain areas of my mind without him being aware of it. He thinks the compulsion is all-encompassing."