He raised an eyebrow. 'That an offer, Miss? Because if it is, I'm on duty—' What was this fixation Dunleavy seemed to have about whores? Was there some weird reason he'd made all the women here hookers, or did it simply appeal to some sick sense of humor? 'It's just curiosity, nothing more.'
'Ah. Well, I'm staying at the Wheaten Hotel.'
'Don't you have a house here in Hartwell?'
'Yeah, but the Wheaten is closer to the…' He paused and frowned, as if trying to remember why he wasn't staying in his own home. Nikki wondered if Dunleavy needed them close to keep control. It would probably be hard to pull the strings of your puppets if they were spread far and wide.
'I have to stay close, what with the murders happening and stuff,' he finished eventually.
'And all the rangers are staying here?'
'All but Jimmy. Haven't seen him for a couple of days.'
Meaning Jimmy was probably dead. 'Which house is Jimmy's?'
'The yellow one at the junction of King and Prospect Streets.'
Which, if the map Seline had drawn was correct, was about where she'd seen the light coming from.
'So, where is your place?'
'Five houses down from Jimmy's.'
'And it's currently vacant?'
'Yeah.'
'If you're staying here, I don't suppose you'd mind renting me your house for a few days, then, would you?'
The big man blinked, for a moment looking lost. Dunleavy obviously hadn't considered her asking that question.
'I guess.' His voice was hesitant. 'It ain't much of a house, though.'
It'd have to be better than the place Kinnard had dumped her in. And if the rangers were living here over summer and autumn, it would surely have hot water and good heating.
'We don't need much,' she said, almost stumbling over her words in her hurry to get them out. Dunleavy might not have realized she'd ask this question, but he could still stop her if she wasn't fast enough. It just depended on what sort of spell he'd bound this man with—and how much of a link he had with his puppets. 'Is it okay if Michael stays there as well?'
'Michael?'
'The man upstairs.'
The ranger's bewilderment increased. 'I guess.'
'You don't mind Michael stepping over the threshold of your home any time he pleases?'
He frowned. 'No, I guess not. But like I said, it ain't much.'
Relief slithered through her. She wasn't sure if the invitation worked secondhand like this, but if it did work, it couldn't be recanted.
And if Dunleavy was holding everyone in this section of town to keep them close and accessible, that suggested having them stay at their own homes made them in accessible. Being a vampire, he couldn't cross a threshold uninvited, and even though he controlled their minds, he couldn't force that invitation, because it had to be freely given.
So possibly, they were safe from Dunleavy when they were in that house. Whether they'd be safe from Kinnard was another matter, yet instinct suggested they might be. Why, she wasn't sure. But right now, instinct was about the only thing she could depend on.
She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a couple of bills. 'Advance payment,' she said, handing them over.
The ranger visibly brightened. 'I was running low on drinking money. This will come in handy.'
'I thought you were on duty.'
'I am. But I'm off in another hour or so.'
She frowned. 'Will anyone take over your post here?'
'Don't think so. Won't be a need, will there?'
'What about the body?'
'It'll be taken care of.'
She raised an eyebrow. 'By whom?'
The ranger waved a hand. 'By people.'
'What people?'
'Undertakers, and the like.'
So, Dunleavy was intending to hide the evidence? Why would he bother when he had no intention of letting any of them out of here alive?
She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. 'When are you next on duty?'
'Tomorrow.'
'What about the other rangers?'
'Also tomorrow.'
'What time?'
'About noon.' He shrugged. 'Ain't nothing going to happen before then.'
Did that mean Dunleavy didn't intend to kill anyone before then, or was the information another red herring?
'And is Jimmy the only missing ranger?'
'Yeah.' He frowned. 'Haven't see Mike for a few days, though.'
Was Mike the man on the roof? Probably. She wondered how many other bodies they'd find in and around Hartwell before the new moon dawned. She rubbed her arms and glanced toward the stairs.
Michael was taking a long damn time.
As if he'd heard the thought, he appeared at the top of the stairs. The barely glowing candles lining the stairwell threw yellow light across his features, even as it allowed the rest of his body to get lost in the darkness. His face was expressionless, as were his dark eyes, but his fury hit her with the force of a cyclone, almost flattening her against the wall.
'I need you to come up here—if you think you can handle it again.' His voice was as flat as his expression.
She pushed away from the wall and slowly walked up the stairs.
'What?' she said, when she'd reached the top.
He merely pointed her into the room. She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and went inside. It was just as bad the second time. Worse perhaps, because all the white sheets only emphasized the utter mutilation that had occurred.
She stopped several paces inside the door, clenching her hands against the need to turn tail and run.
'What did you find?'
'Look at the window sill.'
She closed her eyes. 'I've seen what's sitting on the sill. I don't need to see it again.'
'Then do you remember what you said?'
What on earth was he going on about? 'Of course I remem—' She stopped, suddenly realizing what he meant.
She'd told him the head had been the image of her.
But she wasn't wearing her own face.
She was wearing Seline's.
Chapter Eight
Michael grabbed the witch's arm and spun her around. Her face was pale, her odd-colored eyes slightly panicked. Part of him wanted to do nothing more than wrap his arms around her and offer the comfort she so
