The Darkest Kiss

“Once I talk to Dia, I might head over to Vi

“Be careful,” Jack said, and hung up.

“Bad news?” Liander asked.

“Yeah, looks like I’m going to miss lunch.” I shoved my phone back into my pocket. “If you see Rhoan tonight, could you give him the photos? I want to check if there are any other links to that school and Young’s disappearance.”

“Will do.” He paused, turning right into traffic, then said, “So, how badly are Collingwood going to defeat Carlton in this week’s match?”

I snorted softly, and we got into yet another argument about the pros and cons of our favorite football teams. It filled the time.

He dropped me off at my car then continued on. I got my keys out of my pocket, but didn’t immediately climb into my car. I walked back down the street and checked whether Young had crept home.

He hadn’t—at least, not that I could smell, anyway. Which mightn’t have meant anything considering how little I’d caught his scent the first time.

Brunswick was only a ten-minute drive from Glenroy, but by the time I found parking and got to the restaurant, I was a good twenty minutes late. I couldn’t see Dia sitting in her usual spot on one of the outside tables, but as I neared the door, little Risa came bounding out of the restaurant and flung herself at my legs.

“’iley!” she yelled, wrapping her tiny arms around my left leg and hanging on with the grip of a boa. “Coke!”

I laughed and picked her up, ignoring the twinge in my shoulder as I spun her around lightly before holding her close. She smelled of soap and powder and warmth, and made me wish again for a child of my own.

“Hey, monkey,” I said. “What does your mommy say about you getting Coke?”

Her amazingly bright, violet eyes twinkled with mischief. “Mommy said yes!”

I gri

Of course, the blue of her eyes wasn’t natural, same as her silver hair. Her true hair color was a mix of silver and brown, and her eyes were also naturally brown, ringed by blue.

Dia wasn’t only a psychic, but a clone with Helki shapeshifting genes who was able to subtly alter her appearance as easily as I could become a wolf. The silver and blue suited her psychic business better—and enabled her to use her true form when she didn’t want to be noticed. Little Risa had obviously picked up her father’s coloring, although Dia never talked about him nor was there mention of him on Risa’s birth certificate.

Few would have guessed Dia was blind. The sight she did have came through the presence of a creature known as a Fravardin—an unseen guardian spirit who’d been assigned protection duties by her clone brother, Misha. They’d failed in their duty to protect him, but only after a bloody battle that had taken many of their lives. After his death, they’d honored his wishes and continued to protect Dia. When she was outside the house, one of the Fravardin kept close—and by linking lightly to the creature’s mind, Dia was able to move with a serenity and grace that denied her handicap. I had no idea where the creature was right now, but given she was looking directly at me, it had to be somewhere close.

“Mommy didn’t say yes,” she said dryly. “But Riley rarely takes notice of a no, anyway.”

“It’s only once a week.” I slid into the U-shaped booth then placed Risa on the seat beside me. The little girl clambered to her feet and ran around the booth, white pigtails flying as she threw her arms around Dia’s neck.

“Love Mommy,” she said.

“That child has the world worked out already,” I said, swallowing a laugh. “She’s going to do just fine when she grows up.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dia picked her daughter up and swung her over the table. “Go play until the drinks get here.”

Risa ran off happily. Dia shook her head, amusement and love evident in her expression. “I’ve already ordered the coffee and cake. What’s the problem?”

“I need to know about the Toorak Trollops.”

She lifted a pale eyebrow. “How have the Trollops come under Directorate scrutiny? They’re basically harmless.”

“Yeah, but someone is bumping them off and stealing their identities to kill their lovers.”

The amusement fell from her features. “God, there’s been nothing along the gossip lines suggesting anything like that.”

“We’ve managed to keep the press relatively quiet.” They were still concentrating on the dead politician, and I think Jack was hoping to keep it that way. “What can you tell me about them?”

She wrinkled her nose. “They’re actually not very nice people.”

“Not nice how?”

“It’s their attitude. Not only do they treat men as dumb playthings, but they go into relationships simply to see how much they can get out of it. It’s become something of a game between them.”

I smiled a thanks at the waitress as she brought over three plates of thick banana cake, then said, “I take it you mean gifts and money?”

“But also position. They try to outdo each other when it comes to bed partners.”

“So a politician would be prized more than a shoe store owner?”

“Depends on who the politician and the shoe store owner are, but yes.” She paused, looking at me steadily for a moment. “So the murder of Gerard James was not political, as the press have been saying?”

“Nope. Bad choice of a bed partner, we think.”

She picked up a spoon and scooped up a piece of banana cake, munching on it for several seconds before saying, “I know both Cherry Barnes and Alana Burns were going out with him. Can’t say I’d be sorry to see either of them dead and gone.”

I raised my eyebrows. “And here I was thinking you got along with everybody.”

She snorted softly. “In my line of work, I have to try. Doesn’t mean I always succeed. Though if Alana has been murdered, it’s odd that I didn’t see her death coming.”

“So she was a client?”

Dia nodded. “So was Cherry. Neither of them were pleasant customers, so I was thankful the others stayed away.”

“What do they come to you for?”

She shrugged. “Usual shit. Am I going to find wealth and happiness in my life, that sort of stuff.”

The waitress brought over our coffees and a small glass of Coke. A squeal of happiness erupted from the play area, and a white-headed blur was suddenly scrambling over her mother to get to the soda.

“See what you’ve done?” Dia said, shaking her head in amusement. “She’ll be hyper for hours now.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I gri

“It is when I have several clients to look after this afternoon.” She shook her head. “I saw Alana two weeks ago. She seemed her normal, aggravating self then.”

I hadn’t yet read the cleanup team report, but the state of decay suggested Alana had been dead for at least a week—meaning Dia had probably seen her just before she’d died. “So you didn’t sense anything odd about her?”

“No.” She frowned. “Though with Alana, it was difficult to tell. The self-centered are often hard to read.”

“Do you know of anyone who might want to kill her?”

She smiled. “She was certainly never on Cherry’s Christmas list.”

Dia’s tone was dry, and I raised my eyebrows. “So the two of them didn’t get along?”

“Cherry was more a wa