Deadly Desire (Riley Jenson Guardian 7)
Normally I would have argued, not only because I hated leaving crime scenes before I got a first impression from the cleanup team, but because I didn't like being stuck in the office doing paperwork. But the pain so obvious in Jack's green eyes suggested he wanted time alone to grieve for his friend.
I turned to leave, then hesitated. "Boss, there's an odd smell in both the bedroom and the study upstairs. You might want to call in the magi to investigate it."
He nodded and I left without another word.
The roads were still clogged with traffic, so it took longer than it should have to get back to the Directorate. I bought four coffees from Beans, the little coffee shop that had opened next to the Directorate building, then headed down to the level that held the guardian division's main office area and the cell we called a squad room. Sal was sitting at her desk in the main room, so I walked in and offered her a coffee. She took it with some trepidation, taking a sniff then saying, "Hazelnut?"
"Cures all hurts, if only temporarily," I said, and headed out.
I'd almost reached the door when she said, "Thanks, Riley."
I gave her a half-wave and continued on to the squad room. Both Kade and Iktar were there, the horse man squinting at the computer and the spirit lizard sitting in the corner, the outline of his body fading into the shadows. It was somewhat disconcerting to see, but given that Iktar preferred to study his case files that way, we'd almost become used to it.
Almost.
I handed them both a coffee, then plonked my butt down on the corner of Kade's desk. Of course, this bought me into close proximity to the heated scent of him. Kade might be out of bounds-thanks to both Jack's rules and my own desire to remain as true as possible to Quinn-but that didn't stop desire from stirring, especially when the moon was heating my blood.
"I think you'd better get your eyes checked. Your squinting is getting worse."
"It's not my eyes, it's lack of sleep," he said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand across eyes that were bloodshot and baggy. "It's the fucking babies. They won't sleep."
I grinned. "Well, you're the one who wouldn't keep his little swimmers to himself. I have no sympathy for you.">Not a place I'd want to live, but then, disorder and I were comfortable companions.
I walked through the gates and up to the white marble steps, my footsteps echoing harshly in the cavernous entrance. The tall metal doors were stippled, the surface so highly polished that I had to squint against the brightness of the sunshine bouncing off them. I pressed the button to the right of the massive doors, and somewhere deep inside the house a sound rang out, reminding me somewhat of an old church bell.
I waited for several seconds, listening to the silence within the house and wondering if I'd even hear the approach of the old vampire. They could move with ghostly silence when they wanted to, though most vampires never bothered. Stealthy vamps tended to spook most humans, and given that many humans still weren't overly fond of vampires and their current place in society, spooking them often led to violence. That was never a good thing-for both the human and the reputation of vamps in general.
No one seemed to be answering the door, so I rang the doorbell again. Still no answer.
I stepped back and looked up at the massive windows. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, because I certainly wouldn't see a vampire standing there looking down at me. Even one as old as Armel couldn't withstand the sunshine that would currently be streaming in through the glass. Quinn could, but then, he was over four hundred years older than Armel. Which wasn't a whole lot of years in vampire terms, but apparently those extra years made a huge difference when it came to sunshine-immunity.
I looked back at the door, then grabbed my vid-phone and rang Jack.
"Don't tell me you're going to be late," he said by way of greeting. "I will not be happy if you are."
"I'm not late-"
"Miracle of miracles."
"I'm at Armel's. He not answering the door."
Jack frowned. "He's expecting you, so he should be there."
"Maybe he is. Maybe he's gone to sleep early." I hesitated, pressing the doorbell for a third time, just in case he was sleeping. "What do you want me to do, boss?"
"Try opening the door."
I did so. The knob turned easily in my hand and the huge door pushed open with barely a whisper of sound. "What's his surname?"
"Lambert."
I moved the phone away from my mouth, and said, "Mr. Lambert? Riley Jenson here to see you."
"Any response?" Jack asked, voice terse.
"No." I stepped through the doorway and sucked in the air, letting the various flavors run across my tongue. I quickly discovered one that was all too familiar. "I can smell blood, Jack."
He swore softly. "Investigate. I'll be there in twenty minutes."