The Darkest Kiss (Riley Jenson Guardian 6)

"Well, did he say anything about disappearances or murders or anything like that?"

"No. I know the cops interviewed him, but they interviewed everyone in that grade after the disappearance of some kid. It shook him up - he was jumping at shadows for weeks."

"But he never said anything about it to you?"

"Nope."

"How soon after that did he start taking drugs?"

He puffed on the cigarette for several seconds. "I'm not really sure. I found him drunk a couple of times after the interview, but I couldn't give you a definitive time as to when he started on the drugs."

"Did he drink before then?"

"He was a teenager. We all drank. Part of the culture, isn't it?"

Well no, but that was beside the point. If Jake wasn't seriously drinking or taking drugs before Young's disappearance, then something must have happened for him to start afterward.

But what? That was the million-dollar question, and one probably only the investigator at the time would be able to answer. I glanced at my watch. But not now. Though it was barely ten-thirty, a retired police officer might get a little pissed off at being rung at this hour of the evening.

"Well, thanks again for your help, Mr. Cowden. I appreciate it."

"No problem," he said, and got back to his smoke.

I headed back out to my car. Now what? The charity event wouldn't be finished yet, but I doubted the bakeneko would appear back there. She wasn't that stupid. And I certainly didn't want to go back looking like a mess.

But I didn't want to go home alone, either.

Decision time, I thought, but knew the reality was that there was no real decision to be made. Because there was only ever one thing I could do. Only one thing I wanted to do.

I grabbed the phone and dialed Quinn's number. It rang for several seconds, then his warm voice said rather formally, "O'Conor speaking."

"Quinn? Riley.">"Thought I'd better be, just in case. I had a run-in with our bakeneko and managed to stab her, but she dove into the river and got away. If she's here, she could be hurting and extremely pissed off."

He frowned. "Cats traditionally don't like water."

"Yeah, but traditionally cats can't change into humans or vary the size of their animal, so I don't think the usual rules can be applied in this case." I waved a hand at the house. "I'll go in first and make sure it's safe."

"Try not to destroy too much of the scene," he said dryly.

I smiled. "I'll do my best."

"Good." He hesitated, and amusement briefly lifted the tiredness from his blue eyes. "And may I just say, that's a lovely lot of leg you're flashing there."

I glanced down, and realized that between my tussle with the bakeneko and my shapeshifting, I'd managed to tear my dress from the knee to the top of my thigh. Luckily for everyone, I'd actually worn panties tonight, otherwise all the goods would be on show. I gave him a grin and a curtsy. "Thank you for the rare compliment."

I walked past him and approached the wrought-iron gate. The house was dark and silent, and I couldn't smell anything more than human.

Once at the door, I grabbed the handle and twisted it. Locked. A quick thump with the shoulder soon fixed that. Obviously, the real Enna Free hadn't been too worried about security, because she didn't even have decent locks, let alone dead bolts.

I opened the door cautiously. The air that rushed out was filled with the richness of jasmine, but underneath it were notes of blood and death.

A clock ticked softly in one of the rooms to the left, but otherwise it was deathly quiet. Literally, in this case. I couldn't smell cat, couldn't sense cat, and didn't think she was here. Just to be sure, I switched to infrared and scanned the rooms for any sign of body heat - large or small.

Nothing.

The bakeneko wasn't here. Only death.

I flicked back to normal vision and walked inside. Moonlight shone through the skylights above, lending the hallway a muted, ghostly brightness. White must have been the color choice for all fashion-conscious Trollops, because the only splash of color in Enna's house was the occasional flare of primary color in the large paintings that dominated a good many walls.