I parked several houses down from the suspect's, then climbed out and walked back. The curtains were all drawn in the front of the house, and even the glass near the front door was covered. Which was no surprise, given the owner was a vampire.

I walked through the carport and headed for the front steps. From inside the house came the sound of voices overlaid by music, meaning our vamp was up and watching the TV. I recognized the ad. I pressed the doorbell and resisted the urge to peer through the windows via the gap in the curtains. When there was no immediate response, I pressed it again, leaning on it a little longer this time.

There were no answering footsteps, but my skin crawled with awareness, and several seconds later, a wary voice said, "Yes?"

"Mr. Surrey?"

"Who wants to know?"

Was it my imagination, or had a whole heap of tension just crept into that quiet, wary voice?

"Riley Jenson, from the Director - "

I didn't even finish my sentence before he was running. I swore and spun, bolting for the backyard. I leapt the picket fence dividing the two yards one-handed and ran around the back of the house, looking for the rear door. I'm not entirely sure why he'd run this way, because if he was a vamp, then he wasn't coming out in this sunshine anytime soon without doing himself serious damage.

The back door was locked. I swore again and thrust a shoulder against it, smashing it open. As the door hit plaster, punching a hole in the wall, I ran through the laundry, following the thick scent of vampire.

It led me to a bedroom.

And to a bolt hole.

I swore yet again then knelt down beside it, peering cautiously into the hole. It was a tunnel, and little more than two feet in diameter, barely enough for a man of any decent size to navigate. It dropped about eight feet down through the concrete and into the earth, widening out just enough to turn, then it disappeared sideways into the earth. The hole barely looked big enough to crawl through.

It could be a trap. I could drop down into that hole and find myself staked or shot. But the sour smell of vampire was retreating, and really, anyone who'd bolted at the first mention of the Directorate didn't really seem the type who'd stand by ready to kill.

I took a deep breath, then gripped the rim of the bolt hole and dropped down into it. No stake surged out of the darkness. The vamp was on the run, not hanging about to get rid of unwanted visitors.

With the scent of rich earth thick in my nostrils, I squatted down and had a look at the side tunnel. It appeared even smaller from this angle than it had from up above, and I really didn't think my shoulders would fit through it all that well. Which meant that either he was smaller than I was, or he also had an alternate shape.

Like a rat, I thought. This certainly seemed the sort of standby escape a rat-shifter would have.

I shifted shape, then in wolf form squeezed into the hole, following the scent of vampire. But even as a wolf, my body was too large, and little rivulets of earth cascaded down every time I brushed the sides or the ceiling. I found myself fervently hoping the vamp had known what he was doing when he'd dug this bolt hole, because right now, it felt like the whole thing was going to collapse on top of me.

Of course, it would have been better if I'd chosen my seagull form over my wolf, but if something jumped out at me, my wolf had a better chance of fighting back. The seagull was useless for that sort of stuff.

The tunnel stretched on. My paws made little sound on the soft ground, but my panting seemed to echo loudly. I had no real sense of direction, since the darkness and the heavy feel of the earth seemed to blind my other senses.

Then my nose caught a change in the flow of air. It was sharper, cooler, smelling less of earth and more of oil and car exhaust. And those smells were accompanied by the sound of a car starting up.

The bastard had not only an escape tunnel but an escape vehicle.

Which didn't mean he was guilty of the crime I'd come here to question him about, because lots of vampires had either safe rooms or escape hatches built into their homes. But the fact that he'd used his certainly wasn't pleading his innocence.

The wolf couldn't move any faster without running the risk of making the tunnel collapse around me, which meant it was time to shift shape.

In seagull form, I exploded out of the tunnel, sweeping upward on silvery-gray wings. Only to find myself in a garage, staring at the back of a fast-disappearing van.

It was a white Ford transit - one of those big square vehicles with no side or rear windows, and tinted front windows. The perfect vehicle for vampires, in other words.

Surrey drove at breakneck pace onto the Nepean and headed back toward Frankston, weaving through the traffic like a madman and running most of the lights. He slowed down as he neared central Frankston, moving off the Nepean and onto a series of side streets, until he reached an industrial area. Finally the van slowed as it approached a line of basic, gray-painted warehouses. The heavy steel door of the warehouse in the middle began to roll up, and the van pulled inside. I swooped in after him and flew up into the ceiling, perching on one of the rafters as the van came to a halt and Surrey climbed out.

He looked like a man in a panic. Sweat beaded his face, and the scent of fear was so intense I was aware of it even in seagull form.

He paced the length of the van several times, running his hands through his thin hair and generally looking like a man possessed, then stopped and dug his phone out of his pocket.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, his voice crackling with anxiety.

Whoever he was calling didn't answer. "Fuck," he said, then spun, throwing the phone at the wall. It hit with force, smashing into a hundred different plastic and metal bits before it even hit the floor.

I wondered if Cole and his team would be able to pull information out of them. It probably depended on whether the main chip had survived the impact.

He swore again and stalked toward a small office tucked into the far corner. I leapt off my perch and flew down to the van, shifting shape as I neared the ground, landing lightly and silently at the rear of the vehicle.

Surrey remained in the office. He might have been a vampire, but he obviously was in such a state of panic that he hadn't yet registered my presence.

I crept forward and peered in through the driver's window. There were guns on the front seat, which meant Surrey himself was more than likely armed.

I wasn't. All my weapons were locked securely in my car.

I slid my fingers under the door handle and flicked it upward as carefully as I could. The resulting click was soft, but it still seemed to echo across the silence as sharply as a gunshot.

"Who's there?" Surrey demanded.

I reached in, grabbed one of the guns, then said, "Riley Jenson from the Directorate, Mr. Surrey. Put down any weapons you're holding and come out of the office with your hands up."

He didn't reply, but the tension and fear riding the air seemed to ramp up several degrees. I glanced down to check whether the gun was loaded, then flicked off the safety and wrapped a finger around the trigger.

I didn't want to shoot him, but I didn't want to take any chances, either.

"Come out of the office," I repeated, when there was no sign of movement from within the small room.

"What do you want with me?" His voice was edged with panic.

I'd dealt with many vampires over my years as a liaison and a guardian, and I'd never come across one who was so afraid. Which suggested he at least had some involvement with the murder.

"I just need to talk to you," I said.

"What about?"

"About a murder that happened in Melton." As I spoke, I reached out telepathically, feeling for his thoughts. If I could break through his shields and get to his mind, I could not only freeze him but find out once and for all whether he was actually guilty of this morning's murder.

Only what I hit wasn't the buzz of shield but rather blankness. This vamp was mind-blind, just like my brother. Which meant no one, no matter how powerful, could read or control him telepathically.

I cursed silently. So much for trying to do it the easy way.

"I don't know anything about no murder." And yet the anxiety staining the air ramped up several more notches, belying his words.

"Then you've got nothing to worry about." I scanned the warehouse quickly. There was a whole lot of space between me and the office, and while there were no windows looking out in this direction, he didn't really need them. He was a vamp. Not only did he have infrared vision at his disposal, but he'd hear my heartbeat and feel the rush of blood through my veins. "Just come out and talk to me, Mr. Surrey."

He didn't answer. I blinked and switched to infrared myself. Vampires tended not to have a lot of body heat, although they were far from cold - especially the older ones, like Quinn. Surrey was a deep, dark-red blur huddled in the corner of the office.

What the hell did he think he was doing? There was no escape from that room - and if he'd had another bolt hole, he would have used it by now. So why was huddled there like a cornered rat?

Was he waiting for someone?

It was certainly possible. He'd had ample time to phone for reinforcements while driving.

I swept my gaze through the shadows again. There was a door at the rear of the building, but even from here I could see the padlock. Meaning the only way in or out was the still-open roller door. I backed around the van, keeping my eyes on the office and my senses attuned to the open door behind me. When I reached the driver's side, I reached in and pressed the remote. The door began to rattle closed.

"What are you doing?" Surrey all but yelled. "Why are you closing the door?"

"I'm just making sure no one can sneak up on me, Mr. Surrey." I edged around the car door and made my way to the van's snub nose. My gun was still aimed at the office, but I doubted he was coming out. More than likely, I'd have to go in and get him. "There's no reason to panic."

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" His voice was becoming shriller. "That's why you closed the door, isn't it?"

My gaze switched from the deep-red blur that was Surrey to the office door. It would only take me a heartbeat to get there, but once there, I was a sitting duck. Surrey might be panicking, but he was still a vamp and still had reflexes as fast as mine. Was I willing to bet my life on the fact that his panic would make his aim less perfect?

The answer to that was a categorical no. "Mr. Surrey, I just want to talk to you. If you have nothing at all to do with the crime, you won't get into any trouble."

"You're lying. I can taste it!"

"Mr. Surrey, please calm down. I promise - "

I didn't get the rest of the sentence out. Surrey finally moved, launching himself through the doorway and firing his weapon in one swift, deft movement.

Chapter 4

The shot reverberated through the emptiness. I threw myself sideways, felt the sting of metal past my cheek, and fired my own gun. I hit the concrete with enough force to bruise, but ignored the shock reverberating through my muscles and rolled into a kneeling position, the gun held at the ready.

I needn't have bothered.

My shot had flown true, hitting Surrey in the middle of his forehead. Not even a vampire can survive having his brains splattered out of the back of his head.

Nausea rose. I closed my eyes and fought back the bitter taste of bile in my throat. Justified or not, I'd let instinct take over and had fired to kill rather than wound.

I don't want to do this anymore. The thought came thick and fast, its force so strong it made me shake.

But the truth was, I would. Time and time again. I would do what I had to do, until the killer took me over.

Because I had no other choice, no other option.

Kye had offered an option, some stupid, silly part of me whispered. It might have even been a way out.

But it was a way out that would have involved more killing. He'd been a hunter, just like me, only he'd enjoyed it. He wouldn't have changed even if I'd asked.

But I hadn't asked. I'd killed him instead.

Tears stung my eyes, but I savagely blinked them away. Feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to help.

I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath, swiped a hand at the blood dribbling down my cheek, then flicked the safety back on the weapon and pushed to my feet.

Surrey might be dead, but I could still get my answers - if his soul was a little more cooperative than his flesh had been, that was.

I walked across to the office doorway and squatted beside his body. In death, he looked small and harmless, his body so thin it was almost wasted. His face was gaunt, his nose and cheeks sharp and prominent, and his skin had that pale, translucent look of a vampire who wasn't feeding enough. The thick scent of the blood and brains that were leaking from his head made my nose twitch, but it was the smells riding underneath that caught my interest. Because underneath the reek of vampire was the tantalizing, nebulous aroma of werewolf.

Sometime in the last few hours, he'd been in close contact with one of us. And if Surrey had been in the van Johnson's soul had mentioned, then he'd just given us our first clue as to who his partner in crime was.

I rested my arms on my knees and waited. For some odd reason, humans seemed to believe that vampires had no souls. Maybe because, for most vampires, the turning process did involve the death of their human forms as their bodies evolved into vampire - and for humans, death generally meant the soul moved on. But whatever the reason, it wasn't true. Although right now, it seemed Surrey's soul was a little afraid to come out and speak to me.

I shuffled back a fraction, hoping that by giving him a little more space, he'd feel a little less jumpy.

I'd never met a soul that was scared of me before. Confused and frightened by what had happened to them, yes, but not actually afraid.