"Serious trouble, yes, but there's been times when you've been hurt and in trouble, and I haven't felt a thing." He hesitated and looked sheepish. "I guess I just panicked."

"Whatever game Kye is playing, it doesn't involve hurting me physically." Not yet, at least. "And my com-link isn't turned off. Not completely, anyway. I could hear Jack. He just can't hear me."

Given what I'd been doing last night, that had been a very sensible option.

"Well, the Directorate is getting nothing from your comlink, just an odd sort of deadness. Hence the panic." His gaze swept me, as if reassuring himself that I really was okay, then rose again. He frowned. "When did you start wearing an earring?"

"I'm not."

He reached out and plucked something off my left ear. It was small and round, with a blue stone at its heart. "Now I can feel you."

I barely even heard what he was saying, thanks to the fact that the minute he removed the earring, Jack's voice began to rebound loudly inside my head.

"Jack, slow down, I can't understand a damn word you're saying," I said, then added quickly, before he had a chance to blast me. "It appears I picked up some sort of electronic device that was blocking the com-link and maybe even telepathy."

"There's no device out there capable of that." His voice was gruff and it wasn't all anger. Concern was there as well, and that warmed me.

"Then maybe we'd better check out the device Rhoan just took off my ear, because I only began hearing you once it was removed."

Had Kye planted it on me? I couldn't remember him actually doing it, but then, he'd played my body like a maestro last night and would have had any number of chances to stick something on my skin without me being aware. After all, I had done exactly that to him. But why would he bother? He surely had to know that me being incommunicado would bring the cavalry running, and that we'd find the bug or whatever it actually was sooner rather than later. Especially given how obvious it was.

Maybe he simply didn't realize the com-link was also a tracker. Or maybe he simply enjoyed the thought of creating a little chaos.

"There's several bits of good news to make up for the bad," I added. "I managed to place the tracer on Kye - "

"Excellent," Jack cut in. "Once research hones in on the signal, we'll be able to monitor the bastard's movements. And we'll know whether he's anywhere near if we have another murder."

True. And I really did hope he wasn't, because that would only create a bigger mess than there already was.

"I have a name for you to run, too." I glanced down at the papers Kye had left me. "Carlos Martez, born in Spain twenty nine years ago, immigrated to Australia when he was nine. I have several photos of him I can send through, but no license details."

Although why Kye hadn't retrieved that when he'd gotten the name is anyone's guess. Maybe he didn't want to make things easy for me.

As if things would ever be easy when it came to him and me.

"And why are we chasing this man?"

"Because I saw him coming out of Vinny's last night, and he's some sort of emo vamp." I hesitated, then decided not to mention the fact that I'd probably gotten several nocturnal visits from him. Jack would only get mad that I hadn't mentioned it before now - although given that, until last night, I hadn't actually suspected my sexy dreams were more than just dreams, I couldn't really be blamed for that. Besides, until I knew for sure who was doing it and why, it was better not to jump the gun. All I really knew for sure was that it wasn't Vinny; it didn't have her feel. "I actually think he's the one behind the murders of the two women. Interestingly, when I was tracking him last night, he disappeared into Dante's."

"That doesn't mean the two cases are definitely connected."

It didn't mean they weren't, either. "I know. And I have no evidence connecting him to the murders. But I think we need to talk to both him and Vinny."

"I'll get Benson straight onto the trace."

"Have you gotten anywhere with the council? Are any of them willing to talk to us?"

"Given that your attempt to talk to Leon Gordon resulted in him losing his head, the answer to that is a definite no."

"Even Dante?"

"Dante is many things, but a fool isn't one of them. He won't risk talking to you if the others have refused. It would reflect on him badly."

I'd bet a hundred bucks that he would talk to me if I asked - but the cost would be sex and I really didn't want to go down that path. "We need to know what the hell they did to get someone so pissed off at them."

"I realize that, Riley, and it is being dealt with."

Meaning his sister - who happened to be the head of the Directorate - was dealing with it. "Good. Let me know if you get anything."

"No, Riley, I'm going to keep the information all to myself."

I snorted softly. Sarcastic was better than angry. "Thanks, boss."

He grunted and signed off. I blew out a breath and glanced at my brother. "You feel like breakfast? My treat, seeing I caused you so much stress."

He grinned and turned around, offering me his arm. "You know I'll never refuse an offer like that."

"Good, because we need to talk."

"That sounds serious."

"It is." He led me down the steps. His car was on the street and double parked, blocking the traffic from either direction. There were a couple of cars waiting to get past and it was probably only the Directorate plates that were keeping them from expressing their displeasure.

Rhoan opened the passenger door for me, then scooted around to the driver's side and climbed in.

"So," he said, starting the car and then driving off. "What's the problem?"

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Kye."

Rhoan glanced at me, grey eyes considering. "That was his place, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"And you spent the night with him?"

"Yes."

"For fuck's sake, Riley, I thought you had more sense."

I smiled bitterly. "Tell me, Rhoan, how much success have you had keeping your paws off your soul mate?"

"That's different - "

"No, its not. Whether I like it or not, that man is a part of me, just like Liander is a part of you. I can't ignore him and I can't get away from him. I have to deal with him - and this whole situation - the best I can."

"And that best is sleeping with him?" He snorted softly. "That's not exactly dealing with the problem. That's giving into it."

"Yeah, it is. And it was done for a damn good reason, so don't you be looking down your nose at me, brother, or I'll damn well flatten it."

He grinned. "Them's fighting words, babe. Shame to waste them on me rather than him."

"Oh, trust me, I wasted a few of them on him, too." For all the good it did. "What's Liander involved with at the moment ?"

He didn't answer immediately, but the tension in the car suddenly ramped up several degrees. "He threatened Liander?"

"Yes."

"And you believe he'd do it?"

"He's the one who shot you - just to prove the point."

He didn't actually look surprised. But by the same token, the chill in his eyes suggested Kye wouldn't want to meet him on the street anytime soon. Which was the exact reason I hadn't told him earlier. "Bastard."

"Yup."

He blew out a breath and flexed his fingers against the steering wheel. "So we have to get him out of Melbourne. Immediately."

I knew he meant Liander rather than Kye, although I would have loved for him to get Kye out of Melbourne, too. "You have to get him out. I have to stay here and not only catch two killers, but deal with said bastard."

He swung into a McDonald's drive-through and ordered breakfast for us both. Once I'd paid and we'd collected our food, we headed for Vinny's. "Liander's not going to be happy."

"Tell him he can't be a daddy if he's dead."

He glanced at me sharply, hope flaring in his eyes. "Does that mean you'll agree to the surrogacy?"

"I can't agree to anything until we make sure everyone survives the current threat. Let's concentrate on that first." I took a bite of my egg and bacon McMuffin. "According to Kye, he has a tail twenty-four seven, so you'll have to make sure you're not followed."

"They wouldn't want to try." His voice was flat, deadly, and a shiver ran down my spine. He might be my brother, and we might both be little more than leashed killers, but sometimes he scared me. He had a switch that I didn't. He could so easily become everything I was fighting - a cold blooded, unfeeling killer.

Kye, in another form.

I gulped down some coffee, but didn't feel any warmer. Maybe because I knew that, one day, that switch would be mine. It was inevitable if I remained a guardian - and it wasn't as if I had any other option, when it came to that.

"It might be worth warning Quinn, too," Rhoan added. "Although that could be chancy. He tends to get a little annoyed with people who threaten him. And in this case, that wouldn't be good."

Not when he'd already threatened to beat Kye to a pulp. I finished my McMuffin, then started in on the hash browns. "If you don't eat faster, I'm going to finish the lot."

He grabbed one from the container and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. I shook my head in disgust then jumped as my phone rang. I dragged it out of my pocket and saw it was Jack. And he didn't look happy.

My stomach curled. There'd obviously been another murder. I pressed the receive button and said, "Who's dead this time?"

"I'm hoping no one." His voice was grim. "Sal just hit the emergency button. You and Rhoan get over to her house ASAP."

"You've tried contacting her via the comlink?"

"Yep. She's not answering." His voice was grim. "Drive fast."

We did.

* * *

Sal lived in a little two-story brown brick terrace near the heart of Brunswick Street's human hot spot. Meaning there were more night clubs here than there were in any other part of the city. Most supernaturals tended to avoid the area, simply because of the intense human population, but vamps seemed to love it. I guess being close to your food source did have its advantages. Interestingly enough, there weren't any clubs catering to blood whores here. Maybe it was too trendy and not out-of-the-way enough for them.

Rhoan parked several houses down from Sal's, then opened the trunk and tossed me a laser. He pocketed one himself then gripped a rifle. In my brother's estimation, you could never have enough fire power.

"Front and back?" .

I shook my head. "These are terrace houses. You'd have to run right around the block to get into the back lane."

If they had a back lane, that was. Some of these areas didn't. "Let's just hit the front together."

He nodded and walked forward, the rifle held at the ready by his side. A hunter ready to hunt. I turned on the laser and followed. The soft whine of the weapon powering up was a whole lot louder than either of our steps.

The pale yellow picket fence that divided Sal's little front garden from the street came into view. Bright red hollyhocks spilled over the pickets, contrasting sharply to the blue spikes of the monkshood. Names I knew simply because our mom had loved the cottage garden look when we were kids.

The door - a heavy wooden thing with metal straps running around its length - seemed untouched, as did the front windows. My gaze rose. One of the first floor windows was open. A lace curtain hung out, fluttering softly in the breeze.

Rhoan opened the front gate and ran lightly to the door. He tested the handle, then shook his head and side-stepped to the window, quickly and carefully peering around the frame.

Again, he shook his head then pointed to the upstairs window. I pressed on the laser's safety, shoved it into my pocket, then shifted shape. In seagull form, I flew up to the window and into the house.

The minute I landed, I shifted to human form, but remained kneeling, the thick brown carpet soft on my knees. The house was quiet and smelled ever so faintly of dog and vampire. There was no hint of blood riding the air, no hint of death. And in this room at least, no sign of violence.

I rose, grabbed a blanket from the bed, and dangled one end out the window. Rhoan grabbed the end and swiftly climbed up.

We moved to the door. After a three-two-one count on his fingers, we moved out - him high, me low. There was no one in the hall. And no one in either the two remaining bedrooms or the bathroom.

Which left the lower part of the house. I flicked to infrared and scanned the area immediately below the stairs. There was no sign of blood heat, no sign of life. Relief slithered through me. While it didn't mean there wasn't unlife, it did mean that Kye wasn't here.

Although Jack would surely have mentioned if he was. But I guessed that depended on whether they'd caught the tracking signal yet.

I glanced at Rhoan. "Anything?" I murmured.

He shook his head. "The house is empty as far as I can tell."

Which supported my own findings. I took a step down. The stair creaked softly and I paused, listening. The stillness remained, nothing moved, and yet... I suddenly wasn't so sure we were alone.

I padded down more stairs, my gun held at the ready and my muscles jumping with tension. The house remained still and free of any unusual scent or sound.