Full Moon Rising

“You have an office close by?”

He pointed to the white building that dominated the skyline a block away. “My office is on the top floor.”

I looked up… and up. “And you don’t get height sickness?”

I certainly did, but it didn’t have anything to do with my dual heritage. It was an end result of being thrown off a mountain when I was a pup. Why the fear manifested in buildings, I have no idea, especially when I could still climb mountains and be fine as long as I didn’t go near any cliffs

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Then perhaps we shall keep to one of the lower floors.”

“Unless you want me puking over your undoubtedly nice carpets, that could be a good idea.”

He nodded. We reached the restaurant and he bought me a burger, fries, and Coke, refusing to let me pay for it. I sipped the drink as we moved on to his building. Security let him in after an eye scan, and we took the lift to the tenth floor. Another eye scan later, and we were in a section that consisted of endless rows of desks. He led me through them and into an office at the far end

“Chip?”

I was tempted to hand him one of the French fries, but didn’t think he’d see the humor in it right then. So I handed him the microchip and sat on the edge of the desk, one leg swinging as I munched my food. The screen popped into existence after security confirmed his identity yet again. He slipped the chip into a slot and it disappeared into the depths of the desk. A second later, floor plans appeared

“Where did you feel Rhoan?”

I pointed a greasy finger at the appropriate wall and the screen shimmered slightly. “There’s about six feet between the walls and the roof, but there’s a camera close by and I would imagine it’s infrared.”

“There’s another entrance here.” He pointed to a spot just past where I’d found Rhoan. “And a small guardhouse.”

“That might be a good point of entry, if we could distract the guards.”

He nodded. “They have laser sensors here and here.” He indicated the two spots. “And it looks as if they also have sensor beams set one foot above the outer wall.”

“Fuck.”

“Crude, but appropriate.” Amusement flirted with his lips again as he leaned back in the chair and studied the plans. “Though one foot leaves enough room to get under if you are aware of its presence. If Rhoan is still in there, it’s going to take some planning to get him out.”

“What do you mean, ‘if’?”

“They’ve got cameras. They would have seen you walking around the perimeter.”

“So? They wouldn’t know me from a bar of soap.”

“If Moneisha is involved in making either the crossbreeds or the clones, that may not be true.” He studied me for a moment, dark eyes flat and somehow chilling. He reached into the pocket of his jeans. “I found this on that werewolf who shot you.”

He dropped the small button into my palm. I looked at it, not sure what to make of it. My confusion must have shown, because he added, “It’s a camera. A very powerful, very experimental, camera.”

“They watched me being shot?” I couldn’t believe anyone would be so… I stopped the thought. I worked with guardians, so yes, it was certainly possible to believe someone would be bloodthirsty enough to enjoy something like that

“He never intended to shoot you in the heart. He wanted to maim, not kill.”

I took a quick swig of my Coke and regretted it the minute it hit my already churning stomach. “They couldn’t have known you were there, and if you hadn’t have been, I would have died.”

“True. But he also had a small medical kit on him, meaning he could have been intending to retrieve the bullet himself.”

“So why shoot me, then patch me up? What was the point?”

“Maybe they wanted to watch your reactions.”

I went cold. “But that would mean—”

“If they’re holding Rhoan for what he is,” he said gently, “then they undoubtedly suspect what you are, too.”

“But no one—” I broke the words off. If Jack had guessed, maybe others had too. “There’s nothing on our birth certificates, and we’ve told no one.” I fixed my gaze on him. “I can’t believe Rhoan told you.”

“He didn’t. I guessed. Werewolves generally do not make good guardians because they cannot sense the dead. Yet he has senses as keen as my own.” He paused. “And you blurred in an effort to avoid that bullet. Something else werewolves cannot do.”

I slipped off the desk and began to pace. “What I don’t get is the why? They’re creating their own freaks. Why would they need me or Rhoan?”

He caught my hand as I passed him, stopping me in my tracks. “You are not a freak.”

There was anger in his voice, in his eyes, as if the mere idea I could think such a thing offended him greatly. I found myself smiling. “Easy for you to say. You’re just a common old vampire.”

“And you are a miracle of existence. Never think otherwise.”

My smile grew. “You know, I could really get to like you.”

His sudden grin was devilish. “Does that mean I get to dance with you sometime soon?”

“It just might.” Once I’d gotten Rhoan out. Once I knew for sure Quinn was playing it straight

“Good.” His gaze went back to the floor plans. “I can think of two reasons why they might want you and Rhoan. First because you both appear to have integrated your dual heritage very well.”

I went back to pacing. It was better than sitting still. Or sitting close to a treat I wasn’t able to sample just yet. “And the second?”

He looked at me. “Your almost identical looks.”

That stopped me. “What?”

“All the clones so far have been the image of the guardian known as Henri Gautier.”

“Apparently so.”

“Meaning they come from the one source.”

“The friend you thought was dead.”

He nodded. “Well, the dhampire found in my plane looked nothing like Gautier, meaning he came from a totally different source material altogether.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So what if they don’t know, or believe, that dhampires can be born naturally? What if they think you and Rhoan are lab creations? Successful lab creations that they didn’t create?”

I stared at him as the implications sank in

If that were true, my brother and I were in deep shit

Chapter 6

“That really makes as much sense as them choosing to clone the same butt-ugly image over and over again.” I paused, remembering as soon as I’d opened my big mouth that the butt-ugly image had apparently originally belonged to his friend. Presuming, that is, his dead friend was the source of the clones and not another clone himself. To cover my gaffe, I quickly added, “And surely if the people who attacked me already had Rhoan, I’d feel a greater sense of danger where he was concerned.”

“Not necessarily. Not if Moneisha is merely a collecting point. Maybe the people behind that lab are merely getting samples and don’t know yet what they really have.”

I eyed him for a moment. “So you knew Rhoan was in St. Kilda investigating the disappearances of the pros?”

He nodded. “I was with him most of the night.”