“Nice drink,” Liander said, by way of greeting
I looked down at the fluffy thing. “I have no idea what it is. I asked for something sweet and got this.”
“A warning never to ask for something sweet at an old rock and roll bar.”
He leaned back, and sunlight danced across his sculptured cheekbones, making them shine a deep, rich gold. Which matched the highlights in his silver hair. I couldn’t help smiling. Last week, he’d been blue. It was just as well he was one of the top special effects artists in the country, because he’d never be able to afford his ever-changing looks otherwise
And it always made me wonder how the hell he’d survived the military’s strict rules for ten years. It wasn’t a place that appreciated individualism, and I just couldn’t imagine Liander bowing to conformity. I’d asked him about it many times, but he’d merely shrugged and changed the subject. As far as I was aware, not even Rhoan knew the exact details about his years in the military
Which was all very mysterious. And if he continued to be a prominent feature in my brother’s life, I’d start digging. Not just because I was nosy—though I was—but because Rhoan was my twin and my pack. If there was something in Liander’s background that could end up hurting Rhoan, I wanted to know about it
“What can I do for you, Riley?”
“Have you seen Rhoan lately?”
He frowned. “Why? Is something wrong?”
I hesitated, mainly because I knew Liander actually loved my brother—even if my brother didn’t feel the same way. Liander deserved the truth—or at least some semblance of it. But with Misha sitting beside me, I had to go with the same story. “I just need to get hold of him. You got any idea where he might be?”
“I thought he was on a mission.”
“Davern told me he was investigating Evensong Air.”
Liander grimaced. “That lush. He wouldn’t know one end of a dog from the other these days.”
I grinned. “Meaning?”
“Meaning Rhoan was investigating the owner, Quinn O’Conor, not Evensong Air itself.”
My stomach sank. Just as well I’d listened to my instincts rather than my hormones. “I was under the impression the two of them were friends.”
“They are, which was why Rhoan was so pissed at having to go undercover and investigate.”
At least Quinn hadn’t lied about that part of it. “Any idea what he was investigating?”
Liander shook his head. “You know he never gives away stuff like that.”
I sighed and leaned back. “Then you haven’t any idea where he might have gone?”
“I know he was checking out the street directory before he left.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t suppose you know what address?”
“No. But I was sitting beside him and know the page number was sixty-nine.”
I grinned. “No wonder you remembered it. Bit of wishful thinking there, huh?”
Amusement touched the corners of his silvery eyes. “In the end, there was nothing wishful about it.”
“Lucky you.”
“Indeed.”
“There’s a street directory at my place,” Misha said. “If you want to check out what’s on that page number.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek again. “Thank you.”
He smiled into my eyes. “I can think of better ways to thank me.”
The slow burn of passion ignited again. It wasn’t the fierceness I’d felt earlier, but it was certainly a warning that this moon phase would be a bad one. And for the first time, I wondered if Talon and Misha were going to be enough to keep me satisfied
I said good-bye to Liander and let Misha escort me downstairs to reclaim my bag and coat. Once outside the club, he pressed me back against the wall and kissed me. It was a slow, sweet possession that was so very different from the fierceness that Talon offered but just as arousing in its own way. Which was why I liked being with them both. In the two, I had my ideal man
“I’ll go get my car,” he said, after a while
“I’ll wait.”
He grinned, and walked off whistling. Five minutes later, we were roaring into the city at warp speed in his shiny red Ferrari—which he lovingly called his “bound to get a shag” wagon. Though why a werewolf, armed with an aura that could sweep all objections aside with little effort, needed a “shag wagon” was beyond any sort of reasoning
Misha lived in the penthouse suite of a tower apartment building he’d recently purchased. It stood next to the Casino and the South Bank entertainment complex, and from what he’d recently said, the rent was making him huge gobs of money. His apartment, like him, was silver, but the coldness of it was offset by the brilliant views offered by the floor-to-ceiling windows and the splashes of vibrant colors tucked into odd corners. I never went too near the windows. Though I loved the view, I had a weird fear of heights that kicked in around twenty stories high. Fifteen was close enough to twenty to be cautious
I dumped my bag and coat on the nearest chair and looked around. “Where’s the street directory?”
“In the kitchen.”
I raised my eyebrows as I headed that way. “Strange place to keep a street directory.”
He gave me a grin as he walked around the bench and grabbed a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “Not when you have a business meeting to attend and are studying where the hell it is over breakfast.”
I opened the directory and flicked to page sixty-nine. It didn’t provide any immediate revelations
“Do you know if there’s anything of interest around here?” I slid the book across the bench toward him
“The Moneisha Research Center is there.” He indicated a spot surrounded by green
I frowned. “Why does that name ring a bell?”
A smile tugged his lips. “It’s only been in the news for the last week.”
It wasn’t that. I’d seen that name somewhere else, somewhere recently, but I’d be damned if I could remember where. I waved a hand. “You know I never read the headlines.”
“Ah well, you’ve missed out on some interesting times.” He pressed the button on the espresso machine, filling both mugs, then slid one across to me and sat down opposite. “Moneisha is apparently involved in gene research.”
“So? Half the labs around the world are involved in gene research.”
“Yeah, but Moneisha has
I frowned. “Succeeded in what?”
“Pinpointing the cluster of genes that make a vampire a vampire. Word is they want to try and splice vampire DNA into the eggs of other races.”
I stared at him. “You’re kidding?”
He shook his head. “Hence the protests outside the labs for the last week and Moneisha’s being in the news more than they would want.”
“But… ?” Words failed me. I just shook my head and sipped at my coffee
“Why would anyone want to do something like that?” he finished for me. “Imagine the supersoldier you could build if you could have all of a vamp’s abilities and none of the restrictions, such as bloodlust and the inability to move around in daylight.”
“I don’t think I
“No. It’s privately owned.”
“Who by?”
He shrugged. “Last I heard it was owned by some company by the name of Konane.”
Another name that sounded familiar. “And they are?”
“A research company. I can try and find out a bit more about it if you’d like.”
“I would like.”
I pulled the directory toward me and studied it for a few minutes. I had no idea if Moneisha was connected in any way to Rhoan, or if he was even headed that way. But there was nothing else on this map that seemed in any
