Moon Sworn

days’ worth of newspapers. The top paper was a racing form for Belmont Park in Western Australia, and several screwed-up tickets were sitting nearby. Landsbury obviously liked to bet. There was little else of interest in the room, so I moved into the bedroom. His bed was unmade, but the sheets looked clean and the room was tidy. I’m not entirely sure why I expected Landsbury to be untidy or dirty—maybe it was just the foulness of his crime.

A small beside table sat to the left of the bed, so I walked around and, using the tea towel once again, opened the drawers. The first drawer held nothing but underwear and socks, but in the second I found gold—a notebook.

I lifted it out and carefully began to flick through. My stomach turned as I read—each page was headed by the name of a girl and various details about her: approximate age, description, habits.

Landsbury had been building up to another crime spree, if this was anything to go by.

Which meant the bastard had certainly gotten what he deserved.

There were ten girls in all, and it made me wonder if the one of their fathers had uncovered Landsbury’s unhealthy little obsession. It would certainly explain the method of his murder.

Yet that didn’t explain the whole red-horned devil. That wasn’t a coincidence, and I doubted it was a copycat. Besides the fact that it didn’t feel right, if Harris hadn’t known about the other murders, why would anyone else?

I flicked through the remainder of the notebook, but there was nothing else in it. I put it back, slid the drawer closed, and stood up.

As I swung around to head out, I heard the footstep. It was whisper soft, barely stirring the air, but it was there. I flared my nostrils, trying to smell who it was, but the air was rich with the scent of decay and it overrode everything else.

I moved quickly but quietly to the side of the dresser, squeezing in between it and the wall and squatting down in an effort to be less noticeable. Even though the bedroom curtains were open, the moon hadn’t risen fully yet and the darkness lay fairly thick in the room. I had to hope it would be enough to conceal me.

There were no more footsteps, but the hairs on the back of my neck rose with the awareness of another. I still couldn’t smell him—or her—but he was close.

A shadow appeared in the doorway and I recognized his outline immediately. Harris.

The damn man was a bloodhound. For an instant, he looked straight at me, but there was no sign of recognition, no indication he actually realized I was there, and I frowned. Maybe the darkness and shadows were deeper than I figured.

I stayed where I was, watching him, hoping against hope he’d continue to not see me, not smell me, and would just give up and walk away.

I really should have known fate had other plans.

“I know you’re here somewhere, Hanna. Come out.”

I didn’t move. He could have been bluffing.

“Come out, and we’ll discuss your reasons for being here. If you don’t, I will throw your ass in jail and bury the key.”

If it had been Mike making that offer, I would have stayed where I was. But it was Harris and, for some reason, I trusted him.

I rose to my feet and stepped out of the shadows. His gaze swung around and I saw the barest flicker of surprise.

“How the fuck did you do that?”

I frowned. “Do what?”

“You weren’t there. There was nothing but shadow in that corner.” He stared at me. “Only vampires do stuff like that.”

“I’m not a vampire.” But again that ripple of doubt ran through me. I might not be a vampire, but did that blood run through me?

Yes, that inner voice said. Yes.

It was coming back. Slowly but surely, it was coming back.

“I know that.” There was a sharpness in his voice that suggested annoyance, even if it didn’t show in his expression. “And yet you obviously just shadowed.”

“Look, I’ve been nothing but honest with you. I don’t know who and what I am. I don’t know what I can and can’t do. I’m trying to uncover all that and, the minute I do, I’ll let you in on the secret.” I paused, my gaze searching his and once again seeing little. “How come you keep tracking me down? Have you got some sort of weird ability to sense trouble before it starts?”

“Something like that,” he said, voice short. “So tell me, just how is breaking into a crime scene going to help you recover your memories?”

I gave him a thin smile. “As I’ve repeatedly said, Landsbury’s murder reminds me of another. If I uncover his killer, maybe I’ll shake loose some more clues as to how and why I was involved in investigating that other murder. And that, in turn, just might lead to a revelation about identity.”

He stared at me for a minute, then said, “Did you find anything?”

I hesitated but decided I’d better be honest. If he did have some sort of psychic gift, lying would only get me in deeper trouble. And right now, I needed someone on my side.

An odd thought, given that Evin was supposedly my brother.

“There’s a notebook in the bottom drawer that lists some rather chilling details about ten local girls.”

The only reaction Harris had was a slight flaring of the nostrils. Yet I could feel his anger—a rush of heat that briefly seared the air.

“You placed it back exactly as you found it.”

“Of course, but why—” I stopped, studying him. “You’re using it as bait.”

“Yes. We don’t know whether his partner is in town under an alias, but if he is, then it’s possible he’ll know about the notebook and attempt to recover it.”

“Good plan, except that I doubt the partner had anything to do with Landsbury’s murder.”

“No, but if we can flush him out, we can get him out of harm’s way.”

Meaning Harris did think it was a revenge killing. “So you think someone in this town might have realized what Landsbury was up to?”

His expression was noncommittal. “If someone had, they would have gone to Remy.”

I frowned. “Why not you? You’re the cop, not the pack leader.”

“I’m here for the benefit of the tourists. State law dictates we have fully trained police officers in charge when a pack town is open to humans.”

“Then you have no control over the wolf population? How does that work?”

“In town, I have the say and the power to control pack members when necessary. Beyond town, it falls to pack rule.”

Which was the basic setup of most packs. “But this murder happened in Dunedan itself, so why would they go to Remy rather than you?”

His smile was slightly bitter. “Because I am not well liked in this town.”

I raised my eyebrows. “But they respect you. I saw that in the pub the other night.”

He snorted softly. “They respect my previous achievements. They respect my fairness. They do not respect me.”

“Because you’re not a full-blood West-pack wolf.”

“Yes. Packs tend to be very insular, and outsiders are not welcomed easily.”

“That must have made your mother’s life hell.”

“It did. But my father was pack second, so no one said anything openly. My peers, however, showed no such restraint.”

“Then why did you come back here?”

“Because I could no longer stay in Sydney.”

“Why not?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you always this up front?”

“I think so. And if people refuse to answer, I find out other ways.”