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“I’m actually surprised someone hasn’t taken his head. It’d make more sense than focusing on those who work for

him.”
“So he really is a blood vampire?”
“Yes.” Jack paused. “Why?”
“Because he has some mighty powerful vamp mojo happening. Enough that I wondered if he was

another emo vamp.”
Jack snorted. “He’s not an emo, but he’s gifted with what we call a sexual glamor. Combine it

with his looks, and he could seduce a brick wall if he put his mind to it.” He paused. “He didn’t

succeed with you, did he?”
“No, but someone could have had the decency to warn me.”
“Sorry. It didn’t even cross my mind that you’d have problems.”
“Jack, I’m a werewolf. Sex is like food to us.” And he was just lucky that Quinn was keeping me

well fed.
“Anyway, according to Starke, Gateway claimed to have stumbled upon a beheaded vamp two days ago,

but the sun destroyed any possible evidence before anyone could get there to confirm

it.”
“He should have notified us.”
I didn’t bother replying. What should have happened and what did happen were often two very

different things. Especially when dealing with vampires.
“Three beheadings in as many days,” Jack continued. “This is not good.”
“No.” We had trouble enough with the vampire population. We didn’t need them getting antsy about

some crackpot running around lopping heads off. “You don’t think we’ve got a new anti-vampire

gang on the loose, do you?”
“It’s entirely possible,” Jack said, voice weary. “But there’s been no rumor of such a gang in

action.”
“There soon will be if they keep up at this rate.”
“If they keep up at this rate, we’ll have more than a gang to worry about.”
Yeah, like vampires forming vigilante gangs of their own. It had happened once before—thankfully

well before my time at the Directorate—but I’d heard the whispers about it and had seen the

photographs of the resulting riots. It had damn near erupted into a race war, and from what I’d

heard, it was only luck—and a whole lot of tough talking from Director Hunter—that had stopped a

bloodbath.
“Has Cole gotten back to headquarters?”
“No. He’s still en route. I’ll redirect him.”
“You want me to wait?”
He hesitated. “No. Finish your investigation, then go catch some sleep. I want the report on my

desk by five, though.”
Meaning I’d better do it before I went to sleep, because unless there was another death, I fully

intended to sleep well past five. “Do you think someone is trying to get back at Starke through

his employees?”
“I certainly hope so, because the other option is not one I want to contemplate.”
Especially given the unrest already out there in the vampire community. “Then Cole’s

fast-tracking his report on this one?”
“Yes. It’ll be ready by eight tonight.”
So much for Cole heading back to his warm bed and his waiting lover. “I’ll be in at eight,

then.”
I hung up, then scooped up the still-whining terrier and stepped back into the hallway. My nose

wrinkled as the scent of rotting flesh wrapped around me, but I didn’t bother trying to breathe

through my mouth. I needed to explore the scents in this place. Besides, past experience told me

it wouldn’t help anyway. I stepped past his body and investigated the other rooms. Other than the

dust that littered the basin and shelf, there were dirty clothes on the bathroom floor and a

dogeared toothbrush sitting on the sink, complete with a shiny strip of blue toothpaste. He’d

obviously been about to brush his teeth when he’d been interrupted. I sucked in the flavorsome

air, sorting through the undercurrents, finding the dankness of mold and something else.

Something that was too nebulous to define, and yet oddly seemed out of place.
Frowning, I spun around and headed for the room opposite. It was a living room, and though

sparsely furnished, it was obviously