Deadly Desire (Riley Jenson Guardian 7)

So had I, but that never made it any easier. "Same method of disposal as the first killing?"

"Seems to be. Mel's inside if you want a fuller report. You'll find her upstairs."

"Thanks." I stepped past her carefully and headed for the stairs. The air inside was alive with the flavors of the house-the delicate aroma of rose mixed with the deeper resonance of vampire. Underneath that, the metallic tang of blood. I couldn't smell the wrongness that had been in Armel's. Not on this floor, anyway. I climbed the stairs.

Mel poked her head out of a doorway, brown hair shining in the sunlight streaming in through the windows at the far end. "You want to check the bedroom on the right for me? There's a scent in there I can't define, and I'm wondering if it's the same as the one you found in Armel's."

I nodded and headed in. The interior of Garrison's matched the exterior, and his bedroom reflected this. The white walls held little in the way of adornment and the bed-with its deep red comforter and matching pillows-was the only splash of color in the room. Even the carpet was white-a bad color for a vampire to have in a place where he fed, I would have thought. Even the smallest of splashes would have been noticeable. The red bed, at least, made sense.

I studied the scents of the room, searching for the one I'd found in Armel's. That powerful sense of wrongness was there, but fading fast. Another hour or two, and there'd be nothing more unusual in this room than the scent of sex and the musty aroma that spoke of vampire. A vampire who washed, I thought, thinking of the kid's comment with amusement.

I walked up into the other room. This was a library rather than a study, as Armel's had been, but it still had a safe. Mel was dusting it for prints.

My gaze fell on a chrome and glass side table and I noticed the dust gathered there. And it wasn't the powder Mel was using-this stuff was coarser, and reminded me of the dust I'd blown off Armel's wallet. I glanced back at Mel. "You taken a sample of this?"

She looked across to see what I was pointing at, then nodded. "Don't know what it is, though I don't think it's regular house dust."

"It looks similar to some dust I saw at Armel's."

"Then we'll add it to the priority list."

"Thanks."

I finally let my gaze move to the body. Garrison, or what remained of him, sat in a plush leather chair next to the side table, a book slumped across his chest and the remains of a glass underneath the fingers of his right hand. Wine stained the carpet, its color almost as rich as the bloody pool that had formed under what remained of his legs.

"Where's his head and the end of his legs?" I asked, suddenly realizing what was missing.

"Your guess is as good as mine at this point," she said, catlike green eyes bright in the semishadows. "But there's a couple of rather large Dobermans in the backyard, and the window behind you is open."

I looked at the window, then back at her. "You haven't checked whether the missing bits are out there?"

She smiled grimly. "We have two bird shifters and a cat shifter on this team. Sorry, tackling dogs is off all of our to-do lists. But you could always try."

I could, but if those dogs were out there were guarding the remains of their master, I wasn't going to interrupt them. The only reason a vamp would have a couple of Dobermans would be for protection, and I rather suspected these two would be trained to tackle most nonhumans. I also doubted that one lone werewolf would faze them, even if that werewolf had alpha tendencies and could back down most canines.>"Three," he said.

I hesitated. Jack wouldn't approve an expense report, so this money was coming out of my own pocket. In the scheme of things it wasn't much, but I had a brother who liked to overspend and it was often me who picked up the slack to ensure we had food in the cupboard and coffee on the table. "Two-fifty."

"You guardians are well paid. You can afford more than that."

"Did I mention I have a serious coffee habit?"

He grinned. "Two seventy-five."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"Totally." He held out his hand. "We got a deal?"

"Deal." I clasped and shook it. The kid had a good grip for a scrawny human. "If you can you get Joe here this afternoon."

He grinned. "I'll get him here by five."

Meaning Joe probably wasn't working the streets, but hiding out nearby. This kid was a shark. "You got a name?"

He hesitated. "Mike."

I lightly linked to his mind, quickly skimming the surface. I saw no lie in his thoughts, about either his name or anything else he'd said.

"Well, Mike, I'll be back at five, then."