"Are you going to interrogate the vamp?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Meaning you don't want to?"
"Well, considering I shot him twice to stop him from hitting me telepathically, I very much doubt he's going to cooperate with me."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you just telepathically hit him back? The vamp in the cell isn't an old one - I can tell that from here - so you'd have the mind strength to restrain him at least."
"I had a silver bullet in my leg. It was breaking my concentration and draining my strength."
"Hence all the blood," Rhoan murmured, briefly putting his hand over the phone receiver. "I did wonder."
"We got it out quickly, so there's no lasting damage." The area around the wound might still be numb, but at least the numbness that had stretched the length of my leg had faded a little.
"But that's not the reason why you don't want to interrogate the vamp, is it?" Jack said. "Give, Riley."
I hesitated. He'd already said he wanted to concentrate on solving these murders first, but I wasn't about to let a possible clue slip through my fingers. Right now there was very little chance of West knowing we suspected him. We needed to grab him - and question him - before he could warn anyone the jig was up.
"We have a possible connection to my kidnapping, but I need to talk to him tonight, before he realizes I've got a whole chunk of memory back."
"If you're talking about West," Harris said, voice flat, "then you're not doing anything without me present. I'm sorry, but I owe the man that much."
I waved a hand. "Fine."
"There is one problem," Evin said. "Like me, West probably has to report in every night. Once you talk to him, then he's going to jump straight on the phone and tell them what is going on."
"Only if he remembers it," Quinn said, amusement in his gaze as he glanced at me. "And considering the memory issues you've been having, maybe I should be the one who tackles his memory adjustment."
"It's not that I can't do it," I said mildly. "It's just that I couldn't remember that I could do it."
"But that still doesn't solve the overall problem," Evin said. "When you disappear, he's going to report it."
"That, too, can be fixed."
"West is a good cop," Harris said adamantly. "I can't - won't - believe he's aware of the true gravity of the situation. At least give him a chance to make amends before you start messing with his mind."
"That we can do," I said, and returned my gaze to Jack.
"Okay," he said heavily. "Do it. Rhoan, you can stay with me. We'll interview the vamp."
Rhoan didn't look happy, but he didn't argue, either. As the two men disappeared into the cell area, I said to Harris, "It's probably best if we confront West here. Are you able to call him in?"
"That very much depends on whether he's decided to answer his cell phone or not."
But he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it away from his ear slightly so we could all hear it. After several rings, West answered. His gruff tones were clear over the speakers.
"Where the fuck have you been, Mike? There's been a second murder and all hell has broken loose. I want you back at headquarters ASAP."
"I'm on my way."
"From where?"
"Just passed the Old Well Road."
>"A truckload of shit is what's been happening," I replied. "But the first thing you need to know is the fact that there's whole chunks of my memories missing. I know who you all are, but I can't for the life of me remember your names. In fact, until a moment ago, I couldn't even remember my own name."
"What?" my brother said.
"It's all part of the plot," Evin said. He was sitting on the edge of the desk, his stance suggesting he was ready to fight. He wasn't about to trust the three men in my life - and I couldn't entirely blame him. Not with the dark and dangerous look my brother was flinging his way.