Moon Sworn

“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.

It took a few minutes, but gradually the chill of death began to infuse the air. Wispy strands of smoke began to rise from his body, the tendrils gathering several feet above his flesh until they’d formed a ghostly, almost humanlike figure that had no features. He didn’t swirl as so many other souls did, but I felt the sharp tug of him sucking at my energy.

You lied, he said, his voice far clearer, stronger, than was usual for the dead. But maybe that was merely a result of the freshness of his demise. Usually I didn’t arrive on the scene until at least an hour afterward.

“Anyone who shoots at a guardian needs to be prepared. We don’t often miss.” Although I could have, if I’d just taken a moment to think rather than react. It would have been better to interrogate his live body rather than his dead one.