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Darkness Unmasked (Dark Angels #5) - Page 13/52

“And he was in here last night?”

“Yes.”

“With anyone?”

“No.”

Obviously, she had every intention of answering what I asked and nothing more. “Then did he leave with anyone?”

“I can’t say. I don’t watch the movements of every single patron.”

“Then why have the large bank of security monitors in the room?”

She smiled. “They are not trained on individuals. I simply like to be aware of what is going on in that room at all times.”

A controlling bitch, in other words. Maybe I should have called Hunter instead of flexing a little Aedh muscle—the resulting fireworks might have been interesting.

“Then I want access to all the tapes from last night. Now.”

“And you can prove you are actually from the council? Because I am not inclined to show those to any random stray off the street.”

I ignored her jibe and tossed my badge onto her desk. She picked it up, briefly studied it, then handed it back. “Why do you wish to see the tapes?”

“Because Wolfgang Schmidt is dead. He was murdered last night after he left here.”

“That is sad news indeed.” It was hard to tell whether she actually meant it or not, because there was little emotion in either her voice or her expression. “You may view the tapes in the room opposite. I shall port them over to the screen there.”

“Just the ones for the times he was here, not the entire night.”

Another cool smile touched her lips. “Of course.”

I spun and walked over to the other room. The lights came on as we entered, revealing another sparse room. At least there were two chairs here—one behind the desk and the other in front. I sat behind the desk, found the ported tapes on the screen, and hit PLAY. The quality wasn’t top notch, but I guess it didn’t have to be if the only reason she had the cameras was to source out trouble before it really started.

There was no sound, but the woman spotlighted on the stage seemed to hold the audience under the same sort of spell as tonight’s woman. She had pale skin, black hair with an oddly jagged red streak in it, and coal-black eyes. She wasn’t playing the pan flute, however, but some sort of short-necked lute. I hit FAST FORWARD and rolled through about an hour’s worth of film before I spotted Wolfgang. He came in just after midnight, sat at one of the tables close to the stage, and watched the woman with the same sort of rapt attention as everyone else.

When the woman finished her set, she came down and sat with him. They chatted for another half hour or so; then the woman retreated—but not for long. She and Wolfgang left together.

We had a suspect.

I froze the screen on the woman’s image, sent both Hunter and myself a copy of it, then switched off the computer and went back to see bitch-face.

“You were successful?” she said, without looking up.

“Who was the entertainer you had on last night? Wolfgang left with her.”

“Her name was Di Shard. She wasn’t one of our regulars, just someone brought in at the last minute.”

“Have you got her contact details?”

“Yes.” She reached into her desk and handed me a business card. Classique Entertainers, it said. Specialist in art, chamber, and classical musicians. She added, “Anything else?”

I hesitated. “If there is, we’ll be back. Have a pleasant evening.”

Her smile was as insincere as my words. “Oh, you, too.”

I spun on my heel and got out of there. Once we were out in the cool air of the night, I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I hate dealing with vampires. I know the world at large doesn’t care about that, but I’m just putting it out there.”

“You are right,” a flat and all-too-familiar voice behind me said. “The world at large doesn’t care. Nor do I.”

I inwardly groaned, but somehow managed to fix a smile in place as I turned around. “And to what do I owe this pleasure? Or is it simply a matter of you not trusting me to do my job?”

Did Markel not warn you to be pleasant? Azriel commented. He was standing so close that Valdis’s energy streamed over me, little flashes of fire that spoke of their readiness for action.

I am. It’s not like I called her a bitch or anything.

Her dark eyes flashed. As usual, she’d caught the one thought I didn’t want her to catch. One of these days I was going to learn.

Maybe.

“I was told you were here. I was close by, and thought I might get a report firsthand.”

I grimaced. “There’s not a lot to tell. Wolfgang left with Di Shard, last night’s entertainment. I’ve already sent you her picture.”

“Yes, and we’re currently searching for all relevant details. Unfortunately, the entertainment agency that manages her maintains regular office hours, so we will be unable to talk to them until tomorrow.”

How inconsiderate of them. “At least you can put an APB out on a woman matching her description or something.”

“Hardly. She is mine to find and mine to kill.”

There was death in her eyes. It might not be aimed specifically at me, but it would take only the slightest nudge and I’d be in her sights.

I had no intention of nudging.

“Then what do you want me to do? Until we talk to the agency or she kills again, the investigation has basically stalled.”

“As I said, I have ordered a thorough search through both Directorate and council resources. We will uncover everything there is to uncover about this woman. In the meantime, you are to keep looking, as well.”

“Of course.” I said it politely, without inflection, yet still that darkness flashed. Sweat began to trickle down my spine, and my heart began to race. Never a good thing when standing in front of a vampire on the edge.

But all she said was, “Keep in touch.”

I nodded. She shadowed, disappearing from my sight but not my senses. Only when the trail of her scent told me she had truly gone did I release my breath and turn around. “Will Hunter ever cross the line and become fodder for Valdis?”

“Hunter has crossed the line more than once, but Valdis will not taste her flesh unless she attempts to harm you.”

“Damn. I was hoping you could bend that particular reaper ruling.” It would be nice not to have to worry about the bitch, in any way, shape, or form.

A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “Trust me, I am most aggrieved by that particular ruling myself. Do you head home now?”

“Yeah. I’d better get some rest before I fall down dead or something.” I rose on my toes and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. My own tingled in response, and it took a huge amount of willpower to step back. “I’ll see you there.”

He nodded and disappeared, though the heat lingering in the air told me he hadn’t gone far. I walked back to my bike and rode through the almost empty streets, half wishing I could just keep following the road out into the darkness and the countryside, away from all the madness that had become part of my life of late. But that, unfortunately, wasn’t an option.

Home was a square, two-story brick building situated in the heart of Richmond, and its somewhat bland gray exterior belied the beauty of its internal space. Ilianna, Tao, and I had purchased the old warehouse fresh from college and had renovated every inch of it—and were still regularly updating it with the latest and greatest technology.

After parking in the garage, I ran up the stairs to the thick alloy door that was both fire- and bulletproof and looked into the little security scanner beside it. Red light swept across my eyes, and a second later the locks tumbled and the door slid silently open.

The huge industrial fans that dominated the vaulted ceiling whirled lazily, gently stirring the aromatic air. The place was silent, and though the electrochromic windows weren’t on blackout, there was little light coming in from the street.

“Lights on low,” I said as I strode toward the kitchen. Soft mellow light flared through the darkness, gleaming off the exposed metal struts and lending the brick walls additional warmth. Tao had left the remains of last night’s roast in the fridge, so I made myself a sandwich and a coffee and worked my way through both as I sorted through the stack of mail sitting on the kitchen table.

With that done, I had a quick shower, then headed for bed. I woke hours later with the sensation that something was wrong. For several minutes, I did nothing more than lie there, listening to the silence and wondering what the hell it was that I’d sensed. The apartment was silent, and there was little in the air to suggest that I was anything other than alone.

And yet the wrongness remained, scratching along the outer edges of my consciousness.

Frowning, I groped for my phone. No messages. Not that I’d really expected any. Tao would have finished his shift several hours ago and was no doubt chasing tail at one of the clubs, and Ilianna was with Mirri. If I rang either—especially given it was barely eight in the morning—I would not be popular.

“Perhaps it is nothing more than a premonition,” Azriel said.

I twisted around. He stood at the window, his hands behind his back, his stance that of soldier on guard. Valdis was silent, but her hilt, touched by a glimmer of sunlight, gleamed like a star.

“I can do without premonitions like that, thank you very much.” I rose and padded across to where he stood. Tension rolled briefly across his shoulders, but he didn’t otherwise acknowledge me. “Especially when they’re that fucking vague.”

My gaze dropped from the broadness of his shoulders to the stylized tattoos decorating his well-defined back. While the biggest of these was the Dušan, there were others. Some were recognizable—like a rose, or an eye with a comet’s tail—while others appeared to be little more than random swirls. He’d told me once they were his tribal signature, although I had no idea what that really meant.

I raised a hand and ran my fingertips along the length of one of the swirls. The tattoo pulsed with dark fire, and tension rippled down the muscular length of his back.



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