The Darkest Kiss (Riley Jenson Guardian 6)

"Thanks."

She nodded and disappeared from my view. I took a deep breath, then dashed inside and unlocked the front door. Then I ran back out, did a one-handed leap over the balcony, and dropped back down to the concrete.

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 scanned it quickly, gleaning as much information as I could without reading the full thing. It seemed they ran a number of functions over the year, with their major beneficiaries being the Royal Children's Hospital and the Peter MacCallum Cancer Foundation. Last year they raised nearly half a million for the two organizations.

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 planning to use for publicity purposes - one of Gerard with a striking blonde at his side.

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 anniversary and I need to wear it tonight."

I frowned. "I thought he gave you a watch for your anniversary?"

"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?"