The Darkest Kiss

Mel and her team had already gotten inside. Maybe Marshall had been a thief or a locksmith in his pre-Directorate days.

I collected my purse, then headed back to the car. The information on Marrberry House had arrived, so I sca

I really couldn’t see how they could help our investigations, but being the good little guardian that I sometimes was, I drove over and had a chat with the organizer of last night’s events.

Turns out I was right—he couldn’t help me much. But he did give me a photo they’d been pla

It was hard to say whether she was the woman I’d discovered dead on the bed, because the body had been in such a state of decay, but the height looked the same, as did the blond hair.

So if it was Alana Burns I’d discovered in the apartment, then who was this? And why would she go to so much trouble to date—and then kill—Gerard James?

Unless Cole picked up something in his investigations, they just might be unanswered questions. Which wouldn’t make Jack a happy little vampire at all.

I tossed the photo on the seat, then rang Kade to tell him I’d changed my mind and was heading home. I might have promised Ben I’d check what the police files had to say about his friend’s murder, but I really wasn’t up to doing any more this evening.

I found a parking spot not too far up the street from our apartment building, and hoped like hell the local vandals had gotten tired of their spray-painting binge. Last time I’d brought a Directorate car home, it had ended up green and red. Jack had not been happy.

The night air was cool and surprisingly fresh, free of the usual tint of fumes from the nearby freeway. Maybe the wind had been blowing the other way before it had died earlier this evening, because right now, all I could smell was the faintest hint of humanity, mixed with the sharpness of paint coming from the new pizza parlor they were building a few doors down from our place. If they did a good meat-lovers’ pizza, they’d have me and Rhoan practically living on their doorstep.

I pushed open our building’s old glass and wood front door, and rattled up the stairs. We lived on the sixth floor, in one of the bigger apartments the old converted warehouse had, and on clear summer days had a view right out over the western suburbs. It would have been nicer if it had been views of parks or even the bay, but we wouldn’t have been able to afford the place if it had. Anything remotely resembling a decent view cost big bucks these days—even if the building was as run-down as this one.

I grabbed my door key from my purse and opened the apartment’s front door. Then stopped.

There were dark mutterings coming from the direction of my bedroom, and there were clothes strewn everywhere. Over the floor, across the old leather couches, patterning the rugs scattered over the wooden flooring, even hanging off the old red-plastic light features.

Neither my brother nor I were the tidiest of people, but the house had definitely been in a better state when I’d left this morning.

I raised my voice and said, “What the hell have you been doing, Rhoan?”

He came stalking out of my bedroom, his face almost as red as his hair and his gray eyes flashing fire. “I’m looking for a shirt.”

I looked pointedly at all the shirts strewn across the floor and furniture. “What shirt in particular?”

“The pink one.”

“The one you hate?”

“Yes.”

“The one you swore you were going to trash only a couple of weeks ago?”

“That would be the one.” He stalked across the room and upended a basket of clean laundry onto the coffee table.

“Can I ask why you’re looking for this shirt, and only this shirt?”

“Because Liander gave it to me to celebrate our a

I frowned. “I thought he gave you a watch for your a

“He did. He also gave me an outfit. He wants me to wear it tonight.”

“Why?” I stepped inside and closed the door, then dumped my purse and keys on the nearby lamp table.

He gave me an exasperated look. “It’s the premiere of the movie, remember?”

Understanding dawned. Rhoan didn’t usually attend the premieres of any of the movies Liander had been involved in, simply because he preferred to remain out of the limelight. But this one was important. This one was the first movie in which Liander’s company had been totally responsible for all the movie’s effects. Which meant Liander had been on tenterhooks for the last week, hoping and praying that the movie—and his effects—were well received. Which had made dealing with both him and my brother a party.

As the scattered clothes would attest.

I shook my head and walked into Rhoan’s bedroom. Like the living room, it looked as if a cyclone had hit it. No doubt my bedroom would be the same—though why he’d think I’d be stealing pink shirts was anyone’s guess. Pink and I were not compatible.

Of course, seeing as we were twins, the shirt didn’t actually suit Rhoan, either, but at least his skin was a bit more ta

I ignored the open robes and went directly to his armoire, sliding out the bottom drawer. I knew from experience—and my own packing habits—that this was where all the unwanted clothing usually ended up.

Sure enough, there it was, shoved right at the back, under the fluorescent pink and lime-green socks I’d given him for his last birthday. I thought he’d adore them, as he usually loved all things bright. Obviously, I was wrong.

I dragged out the shirt and slammed the drawer shut. “Would this be the shirt you’re looking for?” I said, holding it up on one finger as I walked out.

“Yes. Thank God.” He walked across the room and grabbed it from me. “Where’d you find it?”

“In the dead clothes drawer.”

“Ah.” He paused, then added, “I like the socks. Really.”

“About as much as I like those shiny yellow snake-skin shoes you gave me.” My voice was dry. “What time is Liander getting here?”

“He said he’d pick me up about seven.” He glanced at his watch. “Damn, I’d better move it. You sure you don’t want to come along?”

I shook my head. “Zombies, trolls, and whatnot ru

He gave me a quick hug. “You’re just a girly-girl at heart, aren’t you?”

“Takes one to know one, bro.”

He snorted. “I am the man of my relationships, thank you very much.”

I glanced at my watch. “And if the man doesn’t hurry, the wife will beat you up for being late.”

“Good point.”

He rushed back into his bedroom and I headed into the kitchen to make myself coffee and a toasted sandwich. I wasn’t the world’s greatest cook, but I could usually manage the basics without burning the place down.

But I’d barely even sat down on the sofa to eat it when my cell phone rang.

“Phone,” Rhoan called out helpfully.

“Gee, thanks,” I said, barely resisting the urge to throw a cushion his way. I picked it up. “Hello?”

“Riley? It’s Ben. I need your help again, and quickly. A friend of mine has just called, and he’s in trouble. As in, dead-in-a-few-minutes trouble.”

“The cops?”

“He said it was a vamp. The cops won’t help.”

I blew out a breath, and wondered what the odds were of two of his friends being attacked by vamps. “Give me the address.” I picked up a pen and scrawled it down on the overdue electricity bill sitting nearby. “Got it. I’ll be there in ten.”