Full Moon Rising

“It appears he doesn’t have a past beyond five years ago.”

That raised my eyebrows. I mean, what were the chances of two almost identical people also sharing a lack of background? “What are the police saying? They automatically do DNA testing when the remains are unrecognizable, don’t they?”

“They do, but they’re not saying anything because I put a hush order on it.”

“Why? Okay, he resembles Gautier and he shot me, but hell, werewolves are always getting shot by crazies.”

“As I said before, I don’t believe in coincidences. Especially when Gautier seemed to know about the bullet wound. Why else would he have touched your shoulder like that when, in all the time you’ve been here, he’s barely done more than exchange insults from a distance?”

I blinked, remembering the watchfulness in Gautier’s eyes. He had been looking for something. And though he was a vamp and could smell blood as easily as I breathed, the fact that I’d shifted shape to help the healing along then taken a shower meant there was no blood—fresh or otherwise—to smell. And barely healed wounds weren’t visible in infrared. “It might have been dumb luck.”

“Dumb luck has nothing to do with anything Gautier does. So the next questions are, why did the shooter resemble Gautier, how is he co

I shrugged. “Maybe he just hates werewolves.”

Yet that wolf had called me by name—and how had he known where I lived? With Rhoan and me both working for the Directorate, our apartment wasn’t listed in the any of the phone directories. And it didn’t make sense for Gautier to have given him the information. If Gautier wanted me dead, he’d do it himself—and with sadistic pleasure

“That doesn’t explain the likeness,” Jack said

No, it didn’t. “So you think they could be related, despite the fact we can find nothing about either of them?”

“Not related by birth, but certainly co

“Co

“I think it very likely the shooter, at least, is a clone.”

I stared at him. “They can’t make clones—not ones that survive to adulthood, anyway.”

“It’s possible someone has, because your shooter is not the only dead person in recent weeks to resemble Gautier. And Gautier himself resembles a man who died some years ago. Plus, we discovered a lot of growth accelerant in the shooter’s remains.”

“What about DNA?”

“We haven’t tested any against Gautier’s yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t want him suspicious. We plan on taking some samples for testing during his regular physical.”

Which was due in the next day or so, if I remembered correctly. “I guess you haven’t talked to him, then?”

“No. At this stage, we’re merely watching him. We’re hoping he’ll lead us to whoever is behind all this.”

“That’s a big risk, isn’t it? What if he gets suspicious and runs?” The last thing we needed was Gautier off the leash. Just the thought sent a shiver down my spine

“If he runs, he’ll be killed.”

Somehow, I didn’t think it would be that simple. “So why does accelerant imply cloning?”

“Accelerant—at least in the tests currently being done on animals—is used to fast-track growth so the scientists can see what problems the clone might have when it reaches middle years.”

“Where are the animal rights activists on that one?” I muttered. “Is there any evidence of accelerant in Gautier’s blood?”

“None at all—it would have been picked up in the six-month physicals.”

So, he was either who he said he was, and the clones a mere coincidence, or he was somehow the source of the clones. Because if the dead man Gautier resembled was truly dead rather than vampire dead, then surely he couldn’t be the source of Gautier and the others. “Do you think Moneisha is behind the clones?”

“We doubt it. It hasn’t the facilities as far as we know.”

“But Rhoan was investigating it?”

“No, he was checking a report that prostitutes were regularly disappearing from the St. Kilda district, and reappearing a week or so later, totally disoriented and having no idea where they had been.”

“Human or nonhuman pros?”

“Nonhuman.”

“If someone is trying to clone, maybe they need DNA samples to play with.”

“Very likely.”

His expression was that of a teacher pleased with the progress of a difficult student, and that irritated. Yet until I’d actually gotten Rhoan out, I’d have to put up with such expressions. And after all, time would tell which of us was going to win this particular battle

Still, I felt an insane urge to irritate him back. “There’s something about the attack I should tell you—I didn’t actually kill the shooter. Qui

“I was wondering when you’d get around to telling me that.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You knew about Qui

He nodded. “I saw the security tapes.”

“Vampires in shadows don’t show up in normal security tapes.”

He gri

“That was kept rather secret, wasn’t it?”

“Sometimes the public just doesn’t need to know.”

“Tell that to the civil libertarians.” I pushed up from the chair and walked across to the machine to grab a coffee. “Why was Rhoan investigating Qui

Amusement touched his lips. “Oh, you are good.”

“Was it the dead vamp found in his cargo plane?”

“Very good,” he murmured, then nodded. “Turns out that vamp was a half-breed.” He looked at me, and I knew, right then, that I’d been on the money before. He’d known all along what Rhoan and I were. “But one born in the lab, rather than naturally, like you and your twin.”

I swallowed, but it did little to ease the dryness in my throat. “How long have you known?”

“Practically since you joined us.”

And we thought we’d been so careful

His smile was gentle. “Riley, I’m over eight hundred years old, and I’ve seen an awful lot in my time. I’ve met your kind before—you even have a name, do you realize that?”

The only name I knew was freak, and even then, until that man shot me, I’d only ever heard it in whispered tones from those in my pack who thought I was too young to understand

“Dhampires,” he continued. “The offspring of newly turned vamps, born to women who are usually attacked and raped in the vampire’s first hour out of the grave, women who somehow survive. A one in a million chance.”

“Our mother was a wolf.”

“And I’m supposing she was in moon fever, because a werewolf would certainly best a newly risen vampire.”

She had bested him—when it was over and his dying seed had somehow created life. “Why haven’t you ever said anything?”

“Because I respect your right to privacy.” He hesitated. “Though I have to admit, your birthright is part of the reason I want you on the team with Rhoan. I don’t think either of you has tapped your full potential.”

“And I want the whole picket fence and bundles of babies scenario, Jack, not long nights filled with bloodshed.”

“Actually, I want you and Rhoan to form the start of a daytime guardian division. Right now, we are somewhat hampered by our ability to hunt only at night.”

“Right now, your wants aren’t even registering on my radar.” I began to pace, taking care not to spill the lukewarm brown muck the Directorate had the cheek to call coffee. The moon was rising and I didn’t have to see it to know it was happening. The power of it burned through my veins. “So why did a dead half vamp make you decide to investigate Qui

“This vamp suffocated.”

I swung around to look at him. “Vamps don’t really need air to survive, so how did he suffocate?”