Azriel glanced up at me. “Yes.”
I frowned. “So why would our face-shifter order them killed if he was ditching his Nadler identity anyway?”
“That is a question I cannot answer.”
“I know—I’m just venting.” Damn it, this didn’t make sense.
He studied me for a second—no doubt noting the way I leaned against the sofa and knowing full well why—then said, “There is one possible reason.”
“What?”
He swept aside Nadler’s dark hair to reveal his left temple. “There’s no scar here.”
“And the version Logan knew had a scar,” I said, suddenly understanding.
“Yes,” Azriel said. “And no doubt the one his secretary knew, as well. With them dead, there would be few left who dealt with him regularly and therefore few who could mention differences between the shape-shifter they knew as Nadler and this one, who is the real Nadler, given what Jacinta told us.”
That made sense—and it said a lot about my overall state that he was the one making these observations, not me. I mean, I’d been around guardians all my life and over the years had learned a fair bit about the inner goings-on of the Directorate and the law. “Then why kill Blake? He certainly couldn’t have identified the recent version of Nadler.”
Azriel shrugged. “Humanity often suffers from illogical patterns of thinking.”
It was a somewhat harsh observation, but sadly, more true than not. I scrubbed a hand through my hair, then glanced out the windows as the wail of sirens suddenly seemed to sharpen. “We’d better get out of here. Can you take me back to Stane’s?”
Surprise flitted briefly across his features, but once again I found myself in the cocoon of his arms as he shifted us. I have to say, it was a nice place to be.
“Well, fuck,” Stane said, as we appeared next to his bridge. “You guys could at least give a little warning before you do that—it’s enough to give someone a heart attack!”
“You are not destined to die via a heart attack,” Azriel said, his voice mild. “So I would not be concerned.”
Stane gave him a somewhat uncertain look. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried by that statement.”
Azriel offered nothing further, which only sharpened Stane’s uncertainty. I smiled and walked into the kitchen to help myself to coffee.
“Our hunt for Nadler hit a dead end. Literally.”
“He’s dead?” Stane’s voice was incredulous.
“The real Nadler is, yes. The fake has scarpered, it seems.” I took a sip of coffee, blanched a little at its bitter taste, and threw several extra heaping teaspoons of sugar into it. It didn’t help much, but I drank it anyway. I needed something to keep me upright.
“Well, that puts a fucking spanner in the works.”
“Maybe.” I walked back and sat down on the spare chair near his bridge.
Stane raised his eyebrows. “You have thoughts?”
“Decidedly muddled ones at the moment.” I half grinned. “But it occurred to me that whoever has been impersonating Nadler for the last ten years or so wouldn’t have killed him off without a backup identity in place. He went to a whole lot of trouble to buy the buildings in this area, and I doubt he’d relinquish control that easily. So there’s either a fourth member of the consortium in place that we haven’t yet uncovered, or Nadler’s last wishes will ensure that our face-shifter still has control of all the land around here.”
Stane frowned. “If there was a fourth member of the consortium, I would have uncovered him by now.”
“Then our only other hope is digging up the will to see who was the main beneficiary.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I can do a search through the trustees office and see what I can find.”
The public trustees office was a government department that offered professional help when it came to wills, asset management, and estate management services. I sipped my coffee and thought about Nadler’s body. “We do have another option. Maybe.”
“And that is?” Stane asked, when I didn’t immediately go on.
“Well, when we saw Nadler’s body, two things became obvious. One, he’d been held in captivity for a while. He had an almost ghostly tone to his skin—it was almost as if he hadn’t seen any sun for a very long time. And two, I think he was frozen.”