Ty grunted. No surprise. The fact that he might have confirmed the Vampire Queen’s suspicions didn’t necessarily open up many new options for her. She was the leader of a hidden race, one that wanted to remain hidden. That meant she didn’t have a public forum to object to what the FBI had done behind her back. She could still, however, take matters into her own hands. All they could hope was that she concentrated her resources on the Rogues rather than the FBI.
“Well, I’ve done my job recruiting the others. Collette, Barrett, and Justine are scheduled to arrive,” Peter continued. “You really think Ana will be able to teach them anything useful? I know they haven’t been assigned to any specific missions yet but—”
“She needs training herself. But I think Ana can demonstrate the finer points of street fighting.”
Peter was fully briefed on their first mission and as such he knew exactly what they were going to be asking of Ana. It wouldn’t involve her fighting anyone so much as fighting her own demons, which was often the more difficult challenge.
“So what’s going on with her? She coming in?”
Ty thought back to Ana’s phone call. She’d been upset. Grieving the loss of her friend Téa. She’d asked him if he’d had anything to do with it, and he’d been honest when he’d said he hadn’t, but someone had killed Téa. And it hadn’t been the pathetic drunk driver who’d been blamed for the car accident, either. Had it been Bobbie? Miguel? Officer Southcott? Someone else entirely?
One thing was for sure—Southcott wouldn’t be providing answers. The morning after he visited Ana, Southcott’s housecleaner had found him dead. The means of death had been a gunshot wound to the head, supposedly the result of a random home invasion. Ty wasn’t buying that, but he didn’t have a clue as to who had actually killed Southcott, or why, either.
He needed to talk things out with Peter, but suddenly Ty didn’t want to stay in this room. “I don’t want to sit on my ass,” he said abruptly. “Let’s get in some target practice and I’ll fill you in.”
Five minutes later, the wind whipped harshly across Ty’s face. The day was overcast, but even so, their skin would eventually mottle and burn from the little sun that was shining through. If they stayed in the sun, they’d just keep burning. He wasn’t positive how much sustained exposure would actually kill him. In the past, he’d only managed to stand two hours of direct sun and the third-degree burns he had suffered had been excruciating.
Maybe the fact that they could survive even that much sunlight had something to do with their body temperatures. That was another trait they’d shared since being turned. On the other hand, their core body temperatures seemed to rise with each passing month. Eventually, he and Peter suspected they’d maintain a body temperature similar to born vampires, which was about five degrees warmer than human. What would happen then? Would they still be able to walk in the sun, or would they be confined to the dark, like born vampires? If so, that would be just one more reason to end things.
He gestured to Peter and they both lay down on the damp forest floor, their long-range rifles at their sides. As he did, Ty felt the gold medallion he’d been given by Lesander press against his body, still hidden beneath his shirt. He’d told Peter and Carly about his encounter with the vampires but he hadn’t told them about the medallion.
And he hadn’t been sure why.
Until now.
He turned to Peter.
“Read my thoughts.”
His friend looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“What?”
“You’ve been able to do it more consistently than I have.”
Peter looked insulted. “I’ve never tried to read yours. If you think otherwise then fuck you.” He started to get up, but Ty stayed him with a hand on his arm.
“No. I don’t think that. But tell me this. When you have tried to read minds, how many times have you been successful?”
Peter relaxed slightly, though he still continued to frown. “If I had to guess, eight out of ten.”
Ty nodded. “That’s a pretty good record. And that’s why I’m asking you to read my mind right now.”
“Why?” When Ty just continued to look at him, Peter rolled his eyes. “Fine.” The other vampire’s eyes grew more intense as he stared into Ty’s. Thirty seconds passed. A minute. Ty felt no tickling sensation.
Peter shrugged. “Nothing.”
Ty hummed. So the necklace actually worked. Unless this was just one of the rare times when Peter’s mind-reading powers failed him.
“You gonna tell me what that was about?”
Just testing this necklace that I got from another vampire. He said it’ll stop any vampire from reading my mind.
That’s what Ty was about to say. But he didn’t. And again, he didn’t know why.
He just knew his gut was telling him to keep quiet. And for now, he was listening to it.
“Nope,” he said smoothly.
Of course, Peter appeared less than satisfied but he dropped the subject.
Ty pointed at a pine tree a ridiculous distance away, far enough to be a challenge to even two vampires with supersharp, extraordinary eyesight. “The challenge is to shoot the pinecone right where it joins the limb. There’s a one- to three-inch shaft, and if you hit it just right, the pinecone drops. Ten points for each dropped pinecone. Five points for every pinecone you obliterate on the tree. Zero points for hitting the tree. Negative points if you have to use a scope.”
“You’re on,” Peter said, hefting his rifle up to his shoulder and aiming.
They’d downed five pinecones each before they took a break to reload. Ty finally told Peter about Ana’s phone call and what she’d learned about Téa Montgomery. “So what do you think?”
“My bet’s on Miguel being behind it,” Peter said. “He probably used Bobbie or Southcott as his hired gun.”
Ty shifted, aimed, and shot, only to destroy the pinecone while it was still on the tree. Damn.
“But why kill Téa Montgomery?” he asked. “And why now?”
Peter proceeded to execute several successful shots before turning to Ty. “You think Bobbie Hernandez tried to pop you to protect Ana, right?”
“Yeah. He wasn’t around when we were in the alley, but I continued to smell him after he left the coffee shop. He was close by. Maybe just outside. He probably saw me wrestling with her.”
“You sure that’s all he saw you doing?”
Ty remembered the way he’d kissed her and his silence was a deafening admission of guilt.
“Anyway, Téa and Ana were friends.”
“But she hadn’t seen her since her last parole check-in a couple of months earlier. Why would Miguel move on her when he did? Why at all?”
“You talked to Téa about Ana, didn’t you? Used her to fill in your research?”
“Yes.”
“Téa gave you answers because she knew Carly and trusted her. It wasn’t part of her job. In fact, what she told you was probably illegal.”
Peter handed him a thermos of animal blood. Ty took a swig, then wiped his mouth. Drinking animal blood settled the unease that ate at his gut every day, but it never seemed to satisfy like a good steak or fish-and-chips had when he’d been alive. He’d never had enough to know, but he’d bet if he drank human blood on a steady basis, the hollow feeling in his gut would completely disappear.
But since that wasn’t going to happen, he forced himself to focus on what Peter was saying.
“So Téa betrayed Ana by giving us info about her, and Miguel offed her. But how would he even know?”
“The same way he knew you and Ana had ‘wrestled.’ Maybe he had her office wired,” Peter replied. “Or had someone watching her. You ever check Ana’s prison records?”