Chapter Eight

Fortunately for me, she didn't catch a cab, but rather the nightrider bus. I climbed on after them and made my way down to the back of the bus, my wet and clingy outfit catching several appreciative glances from the male passengers. The teenager had settled about halfway down. I sat two seats behind but across from her, and tried to ignore the reek of alcohol coming from the snoring woman in the seat behind me.

The driver had classical music playing softly and with the blue interior lighting of the bus, it was a peaceful trip. Even the drunk stopped smelling as bad-either that, or my nose had become accustomed to her.

The teenager climbed off at the Dimboola Road stop in Broadmeadows and began walking down the hill. I followed, keeping far enough back so that even if headlights tore the cover of shadows away from me, she wouldn't realize she was being tailed. Not that she appeared to be really aware of anything else but getting home. I couldn't blame her-it was a miserable night.

She turned left into a street then crossed the road and ran into a house. I waited on the corner, watching as the lights come on inside, then touched the com-link lightly. "You still there, boss?"

"I'm afraid so. What's happened?"

"Hanna Mein, the co-owner of Meinhardt's, has just made contact with another teenage girl, and has employed her to sleep with a vampire for one night. I suspect we really have found our killers."

"And it undoubtedly means she's about to do another robbery-murder. Any hints as to who?"

"Yep. A vamp with a taste for unusual body markings. This girl has a wine-colored stain on her face and neck."

"That narrows the field considerably. I'll get Sal onto it straight away," he said. "I'm guessing you tracked the girl?"

He said that like it was a bad thing. "Any reason why I shouldn't have?"

He hesitated. "No. I just want these bitches stopped, Riley, that's all."

"And I'm working on it. In the meantime, we take away her tools, and maybe frustrate them into making a mistake."

He grunted. "Did you see the other owner at the club tonight?"

"Certainly did." I paused to swipe at the drips of rain rolling down my cheeks. "Maybe I was reading her wrong, but she seemed awfully uptight to me, boss."

"Well, they'd have to know these murders would be attracting Directorate attention. Where does the teenager live?"

I gave him the address. "She's got one of those magic business cards, so you're going to have to make sure Marg provides her with protection before you move her."

"I do realize that, Riley. I'm not a novice at this job, you know."

I grinned at his dry tone. "Sorry, boss. It's late and I'm tired. If don't need me for anything else, I'm off home."

"Don't be late for your new job tomorrow night."

"Like I would."

He snorted his disbelief-a sound I cut off by flicking off the com-link. I turned and headed back down Dimboola Road, wondering if I had the energy to fly home, or if I should catch a cab.

In the end, flying won, simply because there were no cabs at the rail station and I couldn't be bothered waiting for one to turn up. So I was as close to exhaustion as I'd ever been when I finally fell face first into my bed.

When I woke many hours later, it was to the scent of roses, coffee, sandalwood, and man. One smell was definitely more alluring than the others, and I forced a bleary eye open. To discover a pale pink rose sitting on the pillow.

I reached out and carefully touched it. It was real, not a figment of my overtired brain. "Thank you," I mumbled.

"You're welcome," said Quinn. "Now sit up so I can feed you some breakfast. Although technically it could be lunch, considering its well after one in the afternoon."

I scooted up in the bed and gave him a grin. He looked totally divine in faded denims that emphasized the lean strength of his legs, and a white shirt that was roughly rolled up at the sleeves, showing off his arms and shoulders. His hair, usually so neat, had that mussed, just-out-of-bed look, and when combined with a sexy smile-which he did so well-it was just about deadly. Luckily for me, there were no other females around, because he looked so hot I'd definitely be fighting them off.

"So to what do I owe this honor?" I said, reaching for the coffee on the tray.

He pulled it out of the way. "Sorry, kisses first."

"Oh, if I must," I muttered crossly, then grinned and caught his face between my hands, kissing him gently. It might not have been as explosive as the kiss I'd shared with Kye last night, but in many ways, it was far, far better.

"Now you have earned the coffee," he said, dark eyes shining with bedevilment.

I took the cup from the tray and inhaled the scent. Hazelnut. I sighed contentedly and took a sip, then eyed the bacon and eggs still on the tray.

"And what am I going to have to do to get the food?"

"Nothing. For now, anyway." He grinned as he sat down beside me then put the tray over my lap. "So how was last night?"

"Well, if I ever gave up being a guardian, I could make a ton of money as a dancer at a men's club."

"That doesn't surprise me."

He shifted a little so that his legs were touching mine. It felt good in a way that wasn't merely sexual, but more a safe, "right" kind of sensation. Like he and I had been designed to fit together like this.

"I'm actually surprised there's not more wolves in the clubs earning money," he continued. "Wolves are innately sexy, and most have great bodies."

"But not great breasts. As a race, we tend to be slender and flat. I'm just the weird exception."

"Not weird-delicious. And not every man on this planet likes his breasts large."

"No, but the largest money earners in that club seem to be the more buxom ladies-be they natural or surgically enhanced."

"It has been my experience over recent years that most males do not care if there has been surgical enhancement. It's you women that often sneer."

"Given the bitching I'd overheard in the changing rooms at the club, that's certainly true." I put the coffee down and began munching on breakfast. "I found our sorcerers. They own the club."

"Are you sure both these women are involved in the murders?"

"Pretty much. One of the women is definitely hiring teenagers to sleep with vampires-and I presume, let the sorceress into the house somehow-and the other is using the zombies and hellhounds to kill the girls."

"So you're dealing with two sorcerers, hellhounds, and zombies-not a good mix if you ask me. Which is why I got the holy water you asked for."

"Excellent." I popped a quick kiss on his cheek, then grabbed some bacon.

"I also acquired a silver knife."

I raised my eyebrows. He knew silver and I weren't compatible, so it seemed an odd purchase. "Why?"

"Because a silver knife will more easily slice through the hellhound's flesh and bone, making it simpler to decapitate them. I would suggest blinding them with the holy water first, though."

Blinding any other creature might work, but hellhounds hunted as much by scent as by sight. "So they're as allergic to silver as I am?"

"Most magical creatures have problems with pure silver. It's just more commonly known when it comes to werewolves."

"So, burn their eyes out, then cut their heads off. Easy stuff," I added with a wry grin. "Of course, me even holding a silver knife could be problematic."

"It has a bone handle. You should be able to hold it long enough to use it. When it's not in use, keep it in the sheath supplied. It has a thin lead lining, so I think it should give you enough protection."