Moon Sworn

I turned around and trudged back toward Harris and the shattered helicopter. It might not have been far, but by the time I arrived, I was hot, sweaty, and tired. The vamp wasn’t big, but that didn’t mean he was light.

Surprisingly, there was no one else there yet. Harris obviously hadn’t called in help. The helicopter rested on its side like some forgotten child’s toy and the pilot lay beside it, trussed securely with wire that had obviously been ripped out of the copter. He was bloody and bruised, and looked rather the worse for wear. He was also unconscious.

Harris was leaning into the fallen helicopter, pulling out bits of papers and sca

“How come you haven’t called for assistance?” I asked.

“Because,” he said, swinging around to face me, “I tried ringing Mike but he’s not answering his phone. And if you’re right about there being a plot surrounding you, then I don’t think it’s wise to let too many other people know that you helped me bring down a vamp.”

I frowned. “The young officer saw me ru

“Did the vamp actually see you?”

I frowned. “No. Why?”

“Because you were shadowing when we were racing up here. Be

I’d had no idea that I was shadowing. Obviously, whatever had been done to my mind had somehow switched my “other” skills from conscious to automatic. “The vamp never bothered looking around to see who was chasing him, and I never gave him the opportunity once I brought him down.”

“Good,” Harris said. “Then leave, and make sure no one sees you. Loop back the long way if you have to. I’ll take care of these two.”

“Will the cells at the station be strong enough to hold the vamp?”

He smiled. “They’re strong enough to hold werewolves. They’ll hold a vamp.”

I wasn’t so sure, and maybe my expression said as much because Harris added, “But we have several pairs of titanium handcuffs. We’ll use those on the bugger, just to be sure.”

I nodded. “The Directorate will want to interview him.”

“That’s only if the Perth office considers our problem interesting enough to come down here. We still haven’t had any communication from them.”

“You might not. They might just show up on your doorstep tomorrow.” I hesitated. “There’s also the problem of the vamp’s telepathy—”

“We have nanowires,” he cut in. “This place may be in the middle of nowhere, but I’ve ensured we’re equipped to deal with anyone and anything.”

“And I’m betting all the fancy equipment came out of pack funds, not government.” State governments Australia-wide were still struggling to supply the bulk of their city forces with nanowires, so it was doubtful they’d be wasting them on places like Dunedan, where vamps were likely to be few and far between.

Harris’s gaze narrowed a little. “You know altogether too much about the workings of the police and the Directorate. If you’re one or the other, and have gone missing, it’s a wonder there’s not an all-state alert out.”

I shrugged. “Maybe there is. Driver’s licenses can be faked, you know.”

“Yours is in the system.”

“That doesn’t make it any more real.”

“True, but the picture is of you, and that alone should have raised interest.” He glanced at his watch. “You’d better leave, or I’ll be dealing with questions as to why I waited so long to call this in.”

“Then consider me gone.”

I spun on my heel and loped away, taking the long way back to our villa. The place was dark and the TV was off. I frowned. It seemed unlikely that Evin would still be at the pub, or that he’d gone to bed. It was far too early. I unlocked the sliding door and slid it open.

“Evin?” I said without actually stepping inside.

No answer came, but an odd, tingly awareness ran across my skin.

Something felt wrong.

I flared my nostrils, drawing in the air, searching for scents that didn’t belong. There were two—pine and smoke, combined within the musk of male. The scent of a stranger.

Someone had been here.

I blinked, switching to infrared as my gaze swept the darkness. There was no hint of body heat within the villa. Whoever had been here was long gone. I reached across to the light and switched it on—not the brightest thing in the world to do given I was still in infrared mode. I blinked away tears and returned to normal vision.

Nothing seemed to have been touched. The room wasn’t destroyed and everything was sitting where we’d left it. I stepped inside, locked the door behind me, then walked into Evin’s bedroom. Again, nothing appeared to have been moved, although he didn’t seem to have much in the way of personal items. Not even a picture of the woman he was sworn to.

I walked out of his room and into my own. Again, nothing appeared to have been disturbed.

I frowned and wondered if the scent simply belonged to a cleaner. Except—why would they come at night?

Didn’t hotel cleaners usually work during the day, when most guests were out and about?

No, there had to be another reason for that scent being here.

I spun around and walked back out to the kitchen. And that’s when I saw the note stuck to the fridge.

I tore it free of the magnet and opened it. The writing was strong and dark, the words ugly.

You owe me, it said. Meet me at the Whale Station ruins by eleven, or you won’t see your brother alive again. And don’t bother calling the cops—he’ll be shark food long before anyone gets there.

Anger surged, but I wasn’t entirely sure who I was more angry at—them for doing this, or myself for not realizing they might pull a stunt like this.

But then, despite Harris’s warning—or maybe because of it—I’d expected De

Meaning he wouldn’t be waiting for me alone. He’d have friends to back him up. His sort always did.

I was tempted to crumple the note up and toss it in the bin, but I resisted the temptation. The note was evidence, and I had a feeling I’d need that—especially given that De

So I went through the kitchen cupboards until I found some plastic wrap, then covered the note with it, trying to touch the paper as little as possible so there’d be less chance of smudging whatever prints might be on it. Then I shoved it inside my jeans pocket. I wasn’t about to leave it here. They’d already proven locked doors didn’t stop them, and I wouldn’t put it past them to have someone waiting for me to leave so they could come back in and grab the note.

So where the hell was the old whaling station?

Frowning, I walked around the kitchen counter and grabbed the information booklet that was sitting near the phone. After flicking through several pages, I found it. It was, according to the map, at least a two-and-a-halfhour drive. I glanced over my shoulder to the clock. It was almost nine—I’d never make it if I drove. But then, I had other options—options De

So why would they bother giving me a time limit they knew I couldn’t make? Unless the whole point was to panic me so that I’d simply rush there without thought or aid?

After all, if they did have someone watching the house, they’d know when I left and could estimate my arrival. Which meant I’d have to at least make a show of being panicked, just in case.