Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian 9)

There were two more bodies in the waiting area, one woman and one man. Both had taken a shot to the head at close range. I moved through into the next room, and found Cole squatting beside yet another woman.

"Gunshot to the chest," he said unnecessarily. He glanced up, his expression as angry as I'd ever seen it. "It's times like this I'm glad the Directorate has kill orders. The bastards who did this deserve death."

But only after Jack had extracted the information he needed. "How many dead?"

"Seven. The guard by the door, two in the front room, this poor lass, and three others who were running for the back door."

Meaning T.J. and the women I'd told to stay hidden had survived. That was something. "Did you round up the brothel owner? He was here, as well, and he's the one they were after."

"He's scampered, but we'll track him down easily enough."

If we didn't, then the organization behind all this would. If T.J. had any sense, he'd come to that same conclusion and turn himself in. Even so, I reached into my pocket and drew out the scrap of paper Cass had given me earlier. "Here is his address. You might as well add it to your report, because I need to rest before I write up mine."

He nodded and slipped the piece of paper into an evidence bag. I glanced around at the sound of footsteps, and watched another two ambulance officers walk a stretcher past. This time, the person on it was in a bag. I hadn't saved them all. I couldn't have saved them all, and yet some small part of me regretted that. Quinn slipped his hand into mine, gently entwining our fingers and squeezing lightly. Comforting without saying a word.

My gaze returned to Cole. "Have you seen a woman named Cass?"

"Yeah. She went to the hospital with one of the women. Why?"

"Because she saved my life and I just wanted to thank her again."

"Then she's someone I need to thank, as well," Quinn said. "She saved me from having to bring back the dead."

Cole raised an eyebrow, expression suggesting he was unsure whether Quinn was joking or not. I didn't bother enlightening him but simply said, "Did Jack tell you about the top floor? It's bristling with security equipment guarding a phone and God knows what else."

He nodded. "Dusty's up there now, hacking into the system. It shouldn't take him long to get in. Do you want to be advised when we do?"

I hesitated, then shook my head. "I'll just read the report. I really need to go home, grab a shower, then rest."

His gaze swept me, and his voice was wry as he said, "Oh, I don't know. Bloodstained blue silk looks quite fetching on you."

And if I didn't watch it, that would be all my life contained. Bloodstains. On my skin, in my soul. I forced a smiled then walked away, Quinn by my side.

I raised a hand to cut the glare of the sun as we walked out of the building, pausing on the front step as I looked down the street. My car was still parked where I'd left it.

I squinted down to the other end of the street but couldn't see Quinn's car. "Where's your car parked?"

"A few streets over. I abandoned it when I felt you slipping too fast." He bent to kiss me, his lips still cool on mine. "I'll be right behind you within a minute."

"It's not like I'm going to pass out while I'm driving," I said. "I'm really not that weak."

He smiled, and lightly touched my nose. "You lie, Riley Jenson, but I appreciate the effort."

With that, he turned and walked away. I watched him for several seconds, enjoying the lithe, economical way he moved, then turned and headed for my car.

Within minutes I'd joined the steady flow of traffic heading for the city. Quinn's black Porsche was three cars behind me.

We were on Queens Road, cruising past Albert Park, when I saw the truck. It was on the other side of the road and driving way too fast, its movements erratic, swiping the cars that were trying to get out of its way and sending them spinning into others.

I edged over into the other lane, hoping that would keep me out of harm's way. After surviving a silver bullet, the last thing I wanted was to be mown down by a goddamn truck.

I couldn't see any cops behind the truck, but they surely couldn't be too far away. The driver was obviously high on either drugs or alcohol, and someone would have reported him by now.

He drew closer, but the sheer height of the cab and the darkened windows made it almost impossible to see the driver. He was little more than a dark shadow, and for some reason, the small hairs on the back of my neck rose.

Which was ridiculous.

He was just another idiot in the grip of some form of substance abuse or this was his idea of fun driving. I'd seen plenty like him before, and I had no doubt I'd see plenty in the future.