"How does it taste?" I asked.
"Not so good, but it's food," Tony said. I nodded my understanding.
"Hurry up, Anthony, I wish to question relatives of the missing," Gavin grumbled. I didn't think that was going to help us out in the least, but I didn't say anything.
We went to see the two women who'd lost their husband and son. "They just went surfing," one of the woman wept as Gavin questioned her. "They left right after lunch on Saturday and never came back. They were only supposed to be gone four or five hours." I handed her extra tissues; she wasn't in any shape to be answering questions like this.
"Did the police find anything—clothing or such?" Gavin asked.
"Their wetsuits were still in the car," the woman wiped away more tears. She looked to be in her early forties to me, and stress and loss had made her normally pretty face haggard. I knew that feeling, all right.
"Were the suits wet or dry?" Gavin asked. That was the question I had so we were on the same wavelength about that, anyway.
"Still dry—they never made it into the water." That told me they were taken in daylight. Gavin knew it, too. He thanked the woman for her time and we left quickly. Gavin was on some sort of communicator as soon as we were inside our rental; the communicator looked like a tiny cell phone and Charles was on the other end in seconds.
"Charles, inform the Honored One that this is not the work of a vampire," Gavin said. Charles asked how he knew that. "The last two incidents happened in daylight," Gavin said. Flavio's voice came on, then.
"You may return if you wish," Flavio said.
"I'm not coming back until I get to the bottom of this," I said. Flavio heard.
"Lissa may do as she pleases, we have no control over her," he said. Nice of him to realize that.
"I will be coming back," Gavin growled, terminating the call.
"You must find your own lodging," Gavin informed me as he and Tony packed to return to London. They could get a pod out that evening, so they were going.
"Be happy to," I snapped. It was one thing to be indifferent, another to be a total dickhead. I went to my bedroom and threw what little I'd unpacked into my bag, including my toiletries in the bathroom.
He can be a bit grumpy, Tony sent.
You don't have to make excuses for him, I returned, slamming my bags in the floor next to the upper floor steps. I'm well acquainted with Gavin, inside and out. I lifted my bags and misted the hell out of there. I didn't even bother to say goodbye.
Hotel rooms were plentiful, due to the disappearances. I splurged and booked a luxury suite near the water, with a great view of Morro Rock. I might have wept at Gavin's treatment, but I was out of tears at the moment. I misted to the roof of the hotel instead, draping my arms around my knees as I stared out at the ocean. Waves slapped against a jetty in the water—the rock structure was placed there to keep the waters calm near the shore. There were sailboats and other watercraft moored there; they bobbed gently upon dark waters that rippled and glinted in the lamplight from the shore.
"I don't know when she'll be back; Lissa said she was staying until she got to the bottom of this," Charles accepted a warm brownie from Devin when he folded into the villa's kitchen. Drake and Drew were questioning Charles over Lissa's disappearance two nights before. Charles realized quickly they weren't happy.
"It might be different, Charles, if we could locate her by Looking. We can't. And the Larentii are tighter lipped than clams over this. We know they placed a tracking device." Drake almost growled at his fellow Spawn Hunter. He and Drew were angry and out of sorts after Lissa's abrupt departure; neither she nor Charles had informed anyone that she'd left the villa.
"They did place a tracking device, but Ren says that's only for emergencies, and Lissa doesn't know. This isn't an emergency. Is there any milk?" Charles asked. Brownies were best with a tall glass of cold milk. Devin poured a glass of milk and handed it to Charles.
"Charles, are you trying to stand in our way?" Drew snapped. "We want her, and you take her away at the first opportunity."
Charles's hand stopped halfway to his mouth, the brownie poised in midair. Slowly he lowered it to the plate. "Is that what you think? Damn. No, that wasn't my intention," Charles admitted. "I knew Lissa was upset over Gavin, and I was just trying to get him to loosen up toward her. You don't know how much he loved her before. Now he's like an iceberg. Of course it didn't help any that this investigation turned out like it did—I don't think I've ever seen a time when I hoped so hard that the perpetrators were vampires instead of something else."
"Where is she? Tell us." Drake crossed well-muscled arms over his chest and glared at Charles. "You said Gavin and Tony were coming back without her."
"Morro Bay," Charles went back to his brownie. "Don't go tonight, she'll be upset."
"This is quite amusing." Prince Cridel of the Bright Elemaiya held the gate with his Dark counterpart, Martis. The Ra'Ak had merely asked them to hold gates open on select worlds so the transports might be accomplished with none the wiser. Cridel hadn't seen what was coming through; none of them had. As long as it caused problems and ultimately brought the Ka'Mirai to them, he had no difficulty with it. The Ra'Ak materialized at the edge of the gate after making his brief delivery. The Ra'Ak was in humanoid form; otherwise, Cridel might have worried. Friesianna instructed him to flee through the gate if he saw the Ra'Ak in any other guise. Even she knew not to trust them, although she'd been more than willing to make the alliance with them and their Dark Elemaiya cousins.
I was staring listlessly at my breakfast at the hotel restaurant the next morning when a jacket was tossed onto the booth opposite mine. I raised my eyes to see that Joshua, the Werewolf FBI agent had found me.
"If you'd bothered to tell me where you were staying, I could have gotten here sooner," he said, sliding into the red leatherette booth. It was retro—1950s retro. The tabletop was plastic, made to look like a black and white checkered cloth.
"I only moved here last night," I said, dipping into my scrambled eggs, which were now cold.
"I went to the ranch yesterday afternoon," Joshua said. "Talked to the owner who said he'd talked to you. He took me to the same spot. Thanks for leaving the evidence there; I collected it and we've got people working on it now."
"I didn't want to disturb it in case you guys did think to look into it," I muttered. My toast was the only salvageable thing on my plate now; the rest was too cold and tasteless. The waitress came to take Joshua's order—ham and eggs, with extra ham. Werewolves were the same, no matter where or when you were. They could still eat more than two normal people. Joshua snacked on my cold bacon while he waited for his food. I pushed my plate toward him and he ate the cold hash browns, too.
I drank my coffee; the waitress had given me a fresh cup that was nice and hot. Joshua didn't even comment on the fact that I was eating toast and drinking coffee. His food came and he ate quickly and efficiently. "How long in your job?" I asked. I knew he was seventy or so.
"Thirty years," he stopped eating for a moment and grinned.
"Who is Grand Master, now?" I asked softly.
"Jason Harper," he said.
"Is he related to Weldon and Daryl Harper?"
"Daryl Harper's great-great-great-grandson. I guess that makes him Weldon Harper's great-great-great-great-grandson. I was born long after Daryl's stint as Grand Master. His son, Daryl Harper Jr. was taken down pretty quick and there was another two not so good ones in between, but Jason came along about twenty years ago and took care of that problem."
"I knew Weldon and Daryl. Daryl's wife was pregnant with Daryl Jr. when I saw him last." I wondered how werewolf history had been affected when I'd been removed from the records of that era.
"Want to come to the newest site when I finish breakfast?" Joshua asked.
"Sure, if you don't mind," I said.
"It's the least I can do since you led me to the only evidence we've been able to collect so far," he said. "And you can call me Josh, when nobody's looking. Otherwise it's Agent Billings."
"Sure thing, Agent Billings."
"What can I call you? That was a hint, you know."
"Lissa," I said. "Just Lissa."
"I can track you through your registration at the hotel."
"Then do it," I shrugged.
"You don't seem worried that I can find out all about you," he sipped his coffee.
"Agent Billings, if you threatened me at all, I'd let you know," I muttered.
"You're that confident?" He watched me over the top of his coffee cup.
"No. It's just that I've been dead before. Should still be dead, actually. I don't think you could do any worse to me than what has already been done. How's that for an answer?"
We walked out of the restaurant later and I climbed into Agent Billings' vehicle, flying north with him toward San Luis Obispo. There was another army of police and FBI agents covering an empty stretch of beach when we set down.
"Who's this?" An agent walked up to Josh and me as we made our way toward the biggest knot of investigators on the beach.
"Special consultant," Josh sounded snarly. The other agent backed off. We continued toward the site as the other agents moved aside to let us through. The only things left at this site were a large beach blanket, a cooler, suntan lotion and a few toys. Fuck.
"Their vehicle is located on the parking area off the road," someone told Josh as I stood, staring in horror at the toys scattered across the blanket. "It's registered to a Michael Thomas. Married. Wife and six-year-old daughter." I wanted to kneel on the sand and scream.