“Don’t even.”
I laughed when he stepped towards me, planting a fast kiss to my lips, and then backed out of his room quickly.
“You’ve got ten minutes. You can have your coffee on the way.”
“Fine,” I mumbled, equally as impressed as I was frustrated that he was a stickler at getting his job done.
Fifteen minutes later, much to my amusement at Thatch’s grumbling, I was inhaling my black coffee on the way to headquarters.
“I’d best get you up to speed.” He cast me a glance before saying, “Kent came round a couple of hours ago so we could talk without ears.”
Surprise flittered through me. “How did I not hear that?”
A quirked brow followed by “Your snores were loud” was my answer.
“I would say I don’t snore, but you’d only call bullshit.” But damn, I must have been really out of it to miss all that. I took a closer look at Thatch, wondering how he coped with what I assumed were just a couple of hours sleep. “How do you look so hot still, even with bags under your eyes?” My jest wrapped in truth.
“Hot comes naturally to me,” he threw back, making me snort. “And obviously I have great genes.”
I grinned, still taken by surprise when he joked around like this. It was also rare for him to talk about his family, however loosely. Aware it was a sensitive topic, I didn’t bite. “So what’d Kent have to say?”
“She’s organised a reconnaissance team to head to Blackheath territory. They should be there by midday. She’s also managed to set up a drone to follow Brent’s movements and planted bugs in his home office and car.”
I wasn’t even going to question how she managed that or whether or not they were secure. I’d learned not to doubt Kent’s skill set. She didn’t do half-arsed, period.
“All off the books?”
He nodded the affirmative. “I had a few favours I could pull.”
“To be clear,” I said, “are we expecting the link between Blackheath, Brent, and this Lentwood guy to be related to our investigation?” A ball of dread bounced in my gut as I waited for his confirmation.
“Yes.”
I looked over at him, relieved when I didn’t see pity aimed my way. “Thought so. I just don’t understand the connection. Why would Brent get into bed with Blackheath? Not only does the arsehole hate shifters, but my old pack is hardly incognito.” It was true. The pack had a reputation for violence and abuse of its pack members. They were also into arms dealing. It was that reputation that had made my life hell, not only when growing up in the pack, but when I’d joined the SICB. It took years for anyone to trust me. Except for Mathew Lucas.
“Blackheath was caught up in trafficking about three years ago, but nothing would stick.”
“What?” I shook my head, this information being news to me.
“It was a sealed investigation.”
I sighed. “So if we’re thinking Brent is tied up with the missing shifters, the experiments, the blood farms, and what, the drugs as well, he’s using Blackheath to kidnap more shifters?” The tangled mess of connecting cases threatened to blow my mind. “Where does Lentwood fit in?”
“Kent’s working on leads based on what Lucas provided.” He indicated to pull into our building. “We’re collecting Kent and will be heading to Lucas’s warehouse to work.”
“What about the rest of the team?”
Thatch shook his head, his face turning hard. “I need them to continue running point on the intel Doc Evil provided. It’s enough that the three of us are going to be AWOL. I can’t have everyone in at this point. Not with Brent already trying to access data.” He pulled up, engine still running when he said, “They’ll know we’re working on something I can’t let them in on.”
“And they’ll be okay with that?”
Thatch turned to me, his dark brows raised high, a smirk aimed at me. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
“Wisearse.”
Seriousness filled his voice, belying the small smirk. “My team trust me to have their back and do what needs to be done.”
I nodded, aware he spoke the truth. I just hoped he’d never have to be in a position to hold back from me. I got that it was his job, but withholding truths was shit. I supposed I’d have to cross that bridge if and when I came to it.
“I’M A GENIUS!” Kent raised both hands high, a look of complete self-appreciation on her face. Her fingers moved quickly over her keyboard and she indicated towards one of the screens on the wall. “Xavier Lentwood, vampire, ex-militant originally from Michigan, USA. Suspected age over two hundred years. Last known residence Edinburgh, Scotland. Has lived under multiple aliases.”
I took in the multiple images Kent had been able to locate. Lentwood looked to be in his early thirties. His eyes were a dark grey that no doubt turned almost black when feeding.
“What else?” Thatch asked, knowing as much as I did that she’d have more on him.
“The last image we have of him is via CCTV footage in Melbourne eight days ago.”
“And links to LIXER or the blood farms?” Thatch asked, taking a seat at the large table Kent and I occupied.
Lucas cleared his throat, a completely unnecessary action for a vampire that always amused me. But Lucas had been like that since I’d known him—portraying humanlike characteristics that were part of the training, used specifically to help humans feel more at ease.
We all looked in his direction when he said, “Seventy years ago, he had charges dropped that linked him to a vampire leisure drug called…” He glanced at the screen in his hand before continuing. “Bloodwhizz.”
I snorted, loud and hard. “For real. Bloodwhizz? Holy shit.” My laugh escaped, and I received a disapproving shake of the head from Thatch. I shrugged. “How can you not think that is ridiculously funny?”
Kent ignored me, saying, “I remember that. It was used as a relaxant and intended to enhance pleasure when feeding.”
