“Shame we didn’t actually wreck the truck,” Evin murmured. “The bastard certainly deserves it.”
I smiled. Evin might not be blood kin, but he certainly thought like us. “How do you contact Tyson?”
“He phones me.”
“Home or cell?”
“Cell. Every night at ten.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Even tonight?”
“Yeah. He was furious when I told him that Denny had snatched Evin and was holding him hostage against your appearance.”
“So you also went out there because he ordered you to?”
Anger flashed through his expression. “As I said, I went out there because I’m a cop and it’s my duty to stop him. No one told me to do anything.”
But the fact that his duty and Tyson’s orders coincided wouldn’t have hurt.
“Is Tyson the only contact you’ve had?”
“Yes.”
“What number does he phone from?”
“I don’t know. The number is always blocked.”
I gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re a cop, and you’re trying to tell me that didn’t bother you? When this man is your friend?”
He smiled thinly and reeled off a number. “It’s a Northern Territory number. Tyson’s pack is in Queensland.”
I glanced at Evin, who shook his head. “The number I phone is a Melbourne one.”
“So we have Tyson in the Northern Territory and the people holding your mate hostage in Melbourne. Meaning Tyson’s not alone in this.”
“We all knew that from the beginning,” Quinn commented. “Just as we all know who is behind this.”
I glanced at him. “We can’t move until we’ve rescued Evin’s mate. And a little concrete proof would be nice, too.” Certainly it’ll make it easier for Jack to issue a retribution order.
Or a death order.
Something within me shivered. I really didn’t want Blake dead, no matter what he’d done, but I might not have that choice anymore. I’d given him one chance already, and he’d thrown it back in my face.
And I had no doubt he’d keep at me until he achieved his aim: my death, and maybe even Rhoan’s.
We had a pack of our own to consider—we had a child on the way. It went beyond my and Rhoan’s safety now.
“We have two choices, then.” Quinn’s face was still impassive, but the sense of menace brewed like a storm around him. “We go after Tyson, or we hunt down those who have Evin’s mate.”
“If we go after Tyson, the game is up. Besides, such a move would only endanger Lyndal—Evin’s mate,” I said.
“Then we do a trace on the number Evin calls, and hit them before tomorrow night.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Jack wants us to solve the other case first.”
“You’re not the only guardian he has, Riley. Blake—and whoever else is behind this—needs to be stopped immediately. Otherwise, next time they might just settle for an assassin’s bullet.”
And as he’d already said, Jack didn’t want me dead.
I glanced at West. “Do you know if Tyson has any other spies in this town?”
West shook his head. “Not that I know of. Besides, it’d be overkill.”
If it meant their plans for my eventual end ran smoothly, I had no doubt that both Tyson and Blake would employ as much overkill as they thought necessary.
“Then you need to keep playing the game. Report on time, and don’t give anything away.”
West didn’t look happy, but I was betting he was smart enough to know he had little choice in the matter. “And if I do?”
“Then maybe you get to keep your job.”
As I spoke, a sliver of energy spun through the air. West blinked and his eyes went briefly lifeless—although if you weren’t watching him carefully, you wouldn’t even have noticed it.
What did you do? I asked, without looking at Quinn.
Just applied a little insurance. He won’t be able to warn Tyson even if he wanted to.
Good. I glanced at Harris. “I need to use your computer.”
He nodded and rose, walking across to a desk in the far corner of the room. I followed him across, watching as he typed in his ID and had his iris scanned.
“Okay,” he said, stepping back. “You’re ready to go.”
“Thanks.” I sat in the chair and scooted forward. A few key taps, several passwords, and an iris scan later, I was into the Directorate’s database. “What was that number again, Evin?”
He repeated it. I typed it in then hit SEARCH. As I waited for the results, I glanced up at Quinn. “How soon can your plane be ready to leave?”
“Turnaround is usually an hour.” He glanced at his watch. “We could be gone in twenty-five minutes, if need be.”
“Want to warn them, then?”
He smiled. “Already have. The pilot is telepathic.”
“Handy.” I glanced down as the search results flickered up on the screen. The number was listed as belonging to a house in Mickleham, which was an outlying area of Melbourne rather than one of the recognized suburbs, and made up of small farming subdivisions rather than high-density housing estates. It also wasn’t that far away from Essendon Airport, where Quinn usually landed his planes.
I rose. “Evin, you’ll need to stay here—”
“No.” He thrust to his feet, his expression belligerent. “I’m coming with you. I need to help—”
“The best way you can help,” Quinn said gently, “is by continuing the scam here. If they get the slightest idea that something has gone awry, then your mate’s life will be even more at risk. These men are dangerous, and they will do whatever they think is necessary to protect themselves.”
“This is what we do,” I added softly. “And we’re damn good at it. We will get her back safely.”
Which was a stupid thing to promise, given we had no idea what her situation was, but I couldn’t help it. I liked Evin—stepbrother or not—and I didn’t want to see him face the pain of losing a soul mate like I had.
One loss in the family was more than enough.
Evin glanced from Quinn to me then back again. His shoulders slumped. “Okay. But let me know the minute you’ve found her.”
“We will.” I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “And now to tell Jack.”
Quinn stepped forward. “I can—”
I held up a hand. “No. This is my battle.”
I spun around and walked into the cell area. The vamp’s door was open and Rhoan leaned casually against the door frame. He glanced at me. “Find out anything interesting?”
“His contact was Tyson.” I stopped and peered into the cell. Jack was sitting on a chair, and the vamp was upright on the concrete bed. They looked for all the world like they were in the middle of a staring contest, but the sweat beading the younger vamp’s forehead was evidence enough that something else was happening.
And that he was losing the battle.
“Meaning Blake definitely is behind it. Tyson wouldn’t spit without his big brother’s approval.”
“Tyson’s usurped the London pack in Cona Creek and made it his own.”
Rhoan’s expression was contemptuous. “He always was a lazy bastard. Should have guessed he’d steal a pack rather than make one of his own. We going after him?”
“‘We’ are not going anywhere,” Jack said, without taking his gaze from the other vamp. “Not until we finish here, anyway.”
I glanced at him. “Boss, I tracked down the number Evin phoned his reports into, and it’s a Melbourne number. We need to hit the address and rescue Evin’s mate as soon as possible.”
“Riley, the murders we’re investigating occur during the day, which means we’re limited in our guardian usage.”
Specifically, it meant there was Iktar, Rhoan, and myself. But there wasn’t anything I could do that Iktar and Rhoan couldn’t—other than talk to souls, and the reality was, we weren’t really getting that much information from said souls. These people were far too clever.
“What about a deal, then? Let Quinn and me go after Evin’s mate tonight, and then we’ll concentrate on solving the murders.”