She pulled away slightly. “There’s a problem?”
His gaze focused on her lips, watching them move as she spoke. “Kazdan.”
She tensed. “Jack’s here?”
“Yes,” he said, a little more sharply than he’d intended. “He wants the disks.”
And you. He frowned suddenly. The tone Kazdan had used when speaking about her was not the tone of a friend. Enemy, yes; friend, definitely not. So why was he so keen to get her back?
She met his gaze. The ring of shadows around the blue of her eyes was more pronounced than it had been a few hours ago. “Why can’t we just confront him now?”
“Because he has company. I can’t fight three nonhumans alone.” Though with her help, he certainly had a better chance. She’d apparently gotten the better of the two vamps at Kazdan’s house, and she still had the laser. But there was a niggling concern in the back of his mind about her relationship with Kazdan. “We’re better off getting those disks out of here.”
She nodded. “We still have the meet tomorrow night anyway.”
He let her go and stepped back. “I doubt that Kazdan will show up.”
She shrugged and turned away. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
He led the way forward. When they reached the foyer, he crossed to the reception desk. Both the doorman and the receptionist lay unconscious on the floor behind the desk. He felt their necks, relieved to discover both had steady pulses. Given Kazdan’s reputation, that was something of a miracle—though perhaps it was simply a matter of not wanting to shit in his own backyard.
“They okay?” she asked, though her gaze was on the elevators rather than the victims.
“Yeah.” He rose, and got out his cell phone. “Why don’t you head outside? I’ll call in the troops.” Kazdan and his cronies would be long gone by the time the SIU got here, but the apartment itself might yield something useful.
He made the call, and then followed her out the door. But halfway down the steps, he stopped. One of the men with Kazdan was a bomber. The car sat right in front of the building, State plates conspicuous. And Kazdan had ordered his men to take him down to the car. He’d said Gabriel had been slated for termination anyway. At the time, he thought they’d meant Kazdan’s car, but it could easily have been his own.
“Sam, wait.”
She turned, one eyebrow raised in query. He got his car key-coder out and pressed a button. The car purred to life.
“You don’t think they’d go to that extreme, do you?” Though her voice held a hint of doubt, she stepped back to the partial cover of the foyer entrance.
He smiled grimly. He’d underestimated Kazdan once already tonight; he wasn’t about to make a second mistake. He pressed another button and ran a fingernail across the screen. The onboard computer responded, and the car edged forward, wheels turning away from the curb.
Then it exploded.
Deadly metal missiles were flung in all directions. He dropped and saw Sam do the same. Heat and flames hissed through the night air, scorching several elms that lined the curb. The door behind them shattered, showering them with glass.
He scrambled to his feet, shook free the glass, then grabbed Sam, helping her rise. The blast would draw Kazdan and his cronies down to the ground. They had to get out of here—fast.
“There’s a taxi stand just around the corner,” he said.
She nodded. Her expression was remote as her gaze went back to the car. Only her clenched fists gave any sign of emotion. He touched her arm, trying to get her to move, and she looked up. There was something almost chilling in her gaze. Something decidedly unhuman. Then she blinked, and the moment was gone.
“We have to go. Now,” he said.
She nodded again and followed him down the steps.
“HE TRIED TO KILL ME.” Again, Sam added silently, and she shook her head in disbelief.
In the passing gleam of headlights, Gabriel’s eyes seemed fired with gold. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he keeps missing. It could be intentional.”
“That car bomb definitely would have killed us.” But why would he have set it in the first place? If he’d been so certain they’d escape, why wouldn’t he have rigged the service elevator? It was the only other way out of the apartment.
He shifted. The plastic covering the cab’s backseat squeaked in time with his movements. “Think about it. You escaped the kite, something no human has ever been able to do. Two men break into your apartment and bomb it after you escape. They trace us to the hotel and let themselves be seen before they firebomb us.”
“That still doesn’t explain the car bomb.” Even as she said it, she had an uneasy feeling he was right.
“It does if the bomb was meant to take out only me.”
That made a little more sense. If the gas in Jack’s apartment had been meant to knock them out, not kill, it would be easy enough to take Gabriel down to the car and blow him up. It still didn’t explain why they’d bother, though.
A trickle of moisture ran down the side of her face. She wiped it away and glanced down at the smear on her palm. Blood. She had cuts all over the place from the glass that had flown everywhere. So did Gabriel. It was just as well the cab had plastic covers in place.
She looked out the side window. They were traveling over the Bolte Bridge, and the lights of the western suburbs stretched out below them, firefly bright in the darkness. Thousands upon thousands of lights. Millions of people, living side by side uneventfully. Why couldn’t fate have given her one of them as a friend? Why did it have to choose a nutter?
She crossed her arms and tried to ward off a chill. Maybe fate had nothing to do with Jack becoming her partner and friend. Maybe it had all been planned from the very beginning.
“Why would he do something like that? Threaten me, but not kill me, I mean.”
“You claim to know him so well. You tell me.”
She frowned. She’d seen Jack push suspects until they were so afraid they’d do just about anything he wanted. Hell, that’s why they’d argued the day he’d disappeared. Was that what he was doing here? Pushing her? For what reason? What did he want that he couldn’t just ask for?
“I don’t know.” It was an answer to both his question and her own.
He shifted again. There was something oddly angry in the movement. “Answers are going to be damned hard to come by if you keep refusing to face the questions.”
She glanced at him. His hazel eyes were as emotionless as his face. Yet she could feel his anger, almost as if it were a blanket about to smother her. Gabriel Stern was pushing her as much as Jack was, and his reasons were just as unclear.
She studied the river of lights again. “Where are we going?”
“Karl’s.”
The weird-looking hippie he’d introduced her to earlier. “Why?”
“He might be able to enlarge the filmstrip I found in the envelope.”
“And?” she asked, sensing there was more.
“It’s a safe place to rest for the night.”
Yeah, right. Any of the dozen hotels they’d passed along the way would have been just as safe. He was going to Karl’s for a specific reason.
They cruised onto the Tullamarine Freeway and headed out past the airport. The taxi didn’t stop until they’d reached the expensive farmland region beyond the satellite city of Sunbury.
She climbed out and looked at the sky. Away from the glow of the city lights, the stars shone bright and crisp. She turned until she found the Southern Cross, and then smiled. When she was very young, someone had told her the cross was a symbol of her freedom, something that could never be taken away. But like everything else in her past, the memory of who had told her that was gone. Only the cross remained—a symbol that was oddly comforting, even now.
The taxi reversed back down the dirt driveway. Gabriel walked over to where she stood.
“Your friend must have a bit of money to own
farmland this close to Melbourne,” she said.
The house itself didn’t scream money, as Stephan’s had. Granted, it was large, but the worn bricks and ramshackle appearance gave it an air that was more homely than expensive. What made it expensive was the location—smack in the middle of a top farming region.
“He’s one of this country’s top herbalists and grows all his own materials.” He pressed a hand to her back, his fingers warm against her spine as he guided her forward.
The door opened as they approached, though no one appeared to have actually opened it. She raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. He smiled and pointed to the small camera perched in the entrance’s corner.
“Security-com,” he said. “I’ve spent a bit of time here.”
More than a bit of time, if security gave him no-questions access at this time of night. He ushered her into a large living room warmed by one of the biggest log fires she’d ever seen. It was fake—had to be. The only trees that could be cut down nowadays were plantation stock, and it was considered something close to criminal to use such wood for fires. Besides, from this angle she could see one of the jets near the end of the log. Still, it created an illusion that was both inviting and comforting, and the warmth of the gas heating filled the room without being uncomfortable.
Karl came through a doorway at the far end of the room, a tea towel in one hand and a dripping bowl in the other. “Have a seat while I finish these. I won’t be long.”
Her interest was piqued by the long rows of books on the shelves behind the two sofas, and she walked over to take a look. She collected paperbacks, and that in itself was expensive enough. Karl’s books were hardcovers and literally worth a king’s ransom. Subject matter ranged from herbs to genetics and painting to history. Anything and everything. Fiction books were relegated to bottom rows, and judging from the amount of dust, hadn’t been touched for a while.
Karl came back into the room. “Drink?”
She moved around one of the sofas and sat down. “I’d love a scotch and soda.” She had a feeling she was going to need something strong, that she wasn’t going to like the information Gabriel had come here to get.
Karl nodded. His wild brown hair, unfettered by a bandanna, swayed in all directions. “Gabriel?”
“Just a beer will be fine. Where’s the family?”
“Visiting Jan’s folks. Her old man’s not well.”
She frowned and watched Karl pull a beer out of the bar’s fridge. That last statement was a lie. It was obvious in the way his gaze had dropped, in the tension that had briefly curled his fingers. But if he and Gabriel were such good friends, why would he lie over an inane matter like that? Was it because of her presence? Or something else?
“So, tell me what’s wrong,” Karl continued softly.
Gabriel looked at her. His eyes were still shuttered. This time the anger she sensed in him was not aimed at her. “Someone blew up Stephan’s house.”
Karl was still for the briefest of moments. That alone gave away his shock. Like Gabriel’s, his face was impassive. “Anyone hurt?”
“Fortunately, no.”
“Lucky.” Karl handed them both a drink and sat on the chair between the two sofas. “What did State have to say?”
Gabriel’s brief smile was grim. “That we were lucky.”
“Anyone with you, besides Stephan?”
It was a question that seemed to be loaded. Something was going on, something she didn’t understand, but Karl obviously did.
Gabriel hesitated. Anger and disbelief warred briefly in his eyes. “Martyn, Mary and Lyssa.”
“Ah.”
Again, a simple statement that contained a lot of meaning. She crossed her legs in irritation. Damn it, she was getting more than a little tired of people keeping her in the dark. She gulped some of the scotch. The liquid burned down her throat and began to warm the cold pit in her stomach.
“How are those feet of yours?”
She met Karl’s eyes. Something more than polite interest lurked in their brown depths. He was suspicious, but not exactly of her. That made about as much sense as Jack pulling his punches. She swallowed another mouthful of scotch, and then said, “Fine, thanks.” Her gaze went to Gabriel’s. “Now that we have the niceties over with, why don’t you tell me why we’re really here?”
He regarded her steadily. “I told you in the cab.” As if to emphasize his point, he dug the envelope out of his pocket and placed it on the coffee table.
“You evaded the subject in the cab,” she corrected. “I want the truth this time.”
Karl snorted softly. “Told you.”
She glanced at him. He raised his glass in a salute, a grin splitting his thin lips. “Don’t take none of his crap, lass. He’s a man used to playing his cards close to his chest. You have to push to learn.”
“Believe me, she pushes,” Gabriel muttered, then leaned forward, his hazel eyes suddenly intense. “Okay, then—I brought you here because Karl wants to run a couple of extra tests.”
She groaned. “What sort of tests?”
As she spoke, a soft ringing started. Gabriel rose, digging the cell phone out of his pocket as he walked into the other room.
The tension level leapt about ten degrees. Why, she had no idea. She took another gulp of scotch, but it did little to ease the sudden, uneasy churning in her stomach.
“News!” Gabriel called from the other room. “Put the news on, now!”
Karl pressed a button on the arm of his chair, and a panel slid aside on the wall opposite the sofas. A vid-screen came to life.
“… current reports suggest the toll could be as high as one hundred. While the State offices held only a skeletal crew, the SIU was fully manned.”
The camera zoomed in on the devastation behind the female reporter. It looked like some voracious giant had come along and taken a huge bite out of one side of the building. Flames gleamed in the darkness, their golden glow highlighting the paper and other bits of rubbish that still drifted like snow to the ground. The rest of the building, while still whole, looked like it had been shaken by a severe quake. Windows were shattered, lights were out and fires burned. Sam covered her mouth, trying to deny the horror. She’d been listed for night shift this week—another team would have taken her and Jack’s place. She wondered if the captain was alive. Wondered if those who had taken her place had been killed.
Gabriel came back in. His face was white and his eyes were bleak. “I have to go.”
“Hanrahan?” Though Karl’s voice held no emotion, she could see the sympathy and concern in his brown eyes.
He nodded. “He was apparently in the building at the time of the explosion.”
“Keys,” Karl said, and threw them across. “And remember, they’ll have the blocks up. You won’t get near the place unless you’re in human form.”
Gabriel nodded. Sam scrambled to her feet, and his gaze swung to her, hot with a pain she couldn’t understand. “You stay here.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.” His voice cracked, as if he were barely controlling his pain. “It’s too dangerous for you there.”
Karl stood. “If he was dead, you would know.”
“That’s just it. I don’t—either way.”
He walked out the door. A few seconds later, an engine fired to life, and then a car sped away. She glanced across to Karl. “What was that all about? Why all the concern for Hanrahan, when the man has the rep for being a rule-obeying bastard who almost everyone hates?”
Karl considered her for a moment, then sighed. “Hanrahan’s not only Gabriel’s boss, he’s his brother. His twin brother.”
SAM BLINKED. NOT EVEN THE most irrational of minds would think that the two men came from the same family tree, let alone be brothers. “They can’t be. I mean, I could believe that Stephan might be, given their similar looks, but not Hanrahan.”
Karl’s smile was grim. “Hanrahan’s a shapeshifter. His true form is similar.”
r /> She remembered the close bond between Gabriel and Stephan—the feeling she’d had that the two men were related even though Gabriel had said they were little more than friends—then said slowly, “And Hanrahan is really Stephan?”
Karl merely raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying her suspicion.
“So why isn’t he a shapechanger like Gabriel? How can twins have two totally different talents?”
“Both talents are strong in their family.” He shrugged. “Twins aren’t always identical, so why would their talents always be identical?”
“Makes sense, I suppose.” She swallowed the last of her drink and held out the glass. “I don’t suppose I could have another?”
“I think we both need one.” Karl accepted her glass and moved back to the bar.
She sat back down and watched the vid-screen. There were still lots of people pouring out of the partially destroyed building, and there were plenty more milling around a safe distance away. That was surely a good sign, especially since the state police offices had only a skeletal staff on at night. But she guessed it depended on just how much damage was done to the underground floors.
“It’s sometimes better not to watch,” Karl said, holding out her glass.
She blinked away a tear and accepted it with a nod of thanks. “I need to know—”
She stopped. He was right. She didn’t need to see this. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened. Nothing she could do if someone had died in her place. Nothing she could do to ease the sense of guilt that would probably haunt the rest of her nights.
“Turn it off.” She took a large swallow of scotch. At the rate she was consuming the alcohol, she’d end up drunk in no time. And maybe that would be a blessing.
The panel eased shut over the images, and Karl sat back down. “Want to talk about the tests and why I want to run them?”
“Let me guess. I can see the kites, and you want to know why.” Her voice had a sarcastic edge. She glanced at the liquid, then shrugged and took another drink. What the hell. Maybe if she offended him enough, he’d throw her out of the house, and that, too, might be a blessing. Alone, she just might be able to start finding some answers instead of stumbling into blocks all the time.