Jack raised his eyebrows. "Is that a sarcastic note I hear in your voice?"
"Me? Sarcastic? Never." I walked over to the coffee machine and poured myself a cup of the horrid stuff. Beans had been packed and this was better than nothing. But only just, I thought, wincing as I took a sip. "I just think it's a little convenient. Either he's made the kill and is covering his ass so we won't arrest him when and if we find the body, or something else is going on."
"You don't think he's involved in these murders, do you?"
"Honestly? I have no idea. The fact that he's been so helpful suggests not - and we have absolutely no evidence pointing to the fact that he is - but he's a twisted sort of soul and he may be getting an inordinate amount of pleasure seeing just how close we get."
"The other man your ghost talked about wasn't a vampire, so it's possible that he could be a werewolf."
"But it's also possible he's a shifter of any other make and model." I took a sip and wondered why I was defending the man. It wasn't as if I actually wanted to help him out. But I didn't want to see a possibly innocent man accused either - even if he was as rotten as Kye. "So, what's next?"
He grimaced. "Kade talked to the woman whose car was stolen, but she didn't give us anything new. He's now downstairs now collecting the appropriate bugging gear for the club. We've arranged for an electrical outage to happen - " he glanced at his watch - "at twelve forty-five. We'll divert their call to ensure our people are the ones phoned and tell them we have people in the area. Lunch seems to be a busy time for them, so they won't be looking too closely at what the electricians are doing when they've got a room full of people to cope with."
I frowned. "Dante will more than likely be there at that time, and he doesn't miss much."
"I know. Which is why you're going to be there at twelve forty to interview the man."
Oh, great. "Boss - "
"Don't 'boss' me, Riley. You will go talk to him." Meaning the one thing I'd been trying to avoid was the one thing I was now being ordered to do. He continued, "We need those bugs in there - and this case solved - as soon as possible."
My frown deepened at the tension in his voice. "So why do I suspect there's more than the usual urgency behind that order?"
"Because the Melbourne council - what remains of them - is meeting tonight as usual - against our advice, I might add - and that just makes them a very juicy target."
"Why on earth would they do that? I thought they were all high-tailing it out of the state until the crisis was over."
His expression was grim. "They were ordered not to by the high council, who plans to use them as bait."
I blinked. "Talk about a blood thirsty method of getting your man!"
"And if they get the wrong man, things could get very nasty for all of us." He pointed his pen at me. "So you will wear something pretty to Dante's and distract the hell out of Starke."
I glanced at my watch. It was after eleven, so I really didn't have time to go home and clean up. "I'll need some fresh clothes if I'm going to distract Starke. And you need to let me know the minute Kade and his people have finished so I can get the hell out of there."
"We will. Now go. And don't expect the Directorate to cough up huge amounts of money for the outfit. Think budget sexy."
"I'll try." I gulped down the last of the horrendous coffee, then headed up the stairs and down the street to the Direct Factory Outlet center to find something suitable to wear.
It was just after twelve-thirty by the time I arrived at Dante's. I climbed out of the car then adjusted my skirt, smoothing the tight material over my hips. I'd been tempted to just wear jeans and a t-shirt, but Jack had ordered a complete distraction.
The tight black skirt with the teasing split that went high up my right thigh and the dark green, button-up top was almost - but not quite - see through, was certainly that. And there were just enough buttons undone to reveal the slight hint of breast. A tease, not a full on show.
Now I just had to survive the full force of his 'distraction' and try to avoid getting laid.
Of course, the outfit made the knife and its protective sheath sitting at the base of my spine somewhat obvious, but I wasn't going to go into that place without some sort of weapon at hand. In fact, I had several, because my purse held my laser as well as my keys - and in the right hands, those little bits of metal could be quite dangerous indeed.
Especially when they had the power of a dhampire behind them.
I glanced at my watch, saw that it was time, and strolled towards Dante's. The guard at the door was new - to my knowledge, at least - and he eyed me intently, his face giving little away.
"I need to talk to Dante Starke," I said, taking my badge from my purse and showing it to him. "Is he in at the moment ?"
His gaze swept the badge then he nodded. "One moment, and I'll see if he's available."
His gaze went a blank, meaning that, like the guard who'd worked here before him, he was a newer vampire. Maybe Starke couldn't afford more seasoned personnel.
"He said he'll meet you in his office shortly." He opened the door and I walked inside the gloom of the club. Once again, the smell assaulted my senses, making me pause. The riot of hunger and lust, all entwined with the scent of humanity, vampire, booze and blood, had my stomach turning. Yet once again, a tiny part of my soul was turned on by it.
I walked towards the bar. The same man was there, still chewing gum and looking superior.
"Hey, you're looking pretty special today," he said, gaze sweeping my body and lingering on the length of thigh. "The boss is a lucky man."
"This outfit is not for your boss's benefit, but rather for the man I have a hot date with after this interview. So if you could hurry your boss along, it would be most appreciated."
"If I had known such a delicious treat waited for me," Dante said, his voice sliding up from behind me and wrapping around me as seductively as a caress, "I would most certainly have been here to receive you."
I turned around. He was standing four feet away and I hadn't even heard him approach. His golden hair was tousled and his tight-fitting shirt was untucked and not fully buttoned, revealing teasing glimpses of tight golden curls. He was wearing black pants that were neatly creased and seemed to emphasize the sheer size of him, and his feet were bare.
He'd just come from his bed, I thought, and tried to shake the image from my mind.
"As I just said, the treat is not for you." I might be under orders to distract the man, but any sudden change of attitude was going to raise suspicions - especially if he was our man. "I just have a few quick questions, then I'll be gone again."
"I'm shattered," he said, his expression crestfallen but golden eyes twinkling. "Boris, a bottle of our finest."
"You know I can't drink it." I crossed my arms, forcing my breasts a little closer together and making it totally obvious that I wasn't wearing a bra.
"Of course you can't," he agreed, his gaze barely flickering to my chest, yet the heat of him seeming to leap substantially - flaring white hot then just as quickly disappearing, as if he was controlling it tightly. "With two glasses, please."
Boris grinned and wandered off to where ever they stashed the good stuff. Starke waved a hand toward the office. "After you, sweet thing."
I snorted softly and led the way, trying but not entirely succeeding in keeping the distance between us.
"That knife is an interesting addition to your outfit," Starke commented, his voice low and gently seductive. "And it does put an interesting twist on what you consider a hot date."
"That knife is for you." I wrapped my hand around the handle of the office door and pushed it open. "And if you get too touchy-feely, I will use it."
He laughed. The sound rumbled pleasantly across my senses. "I shall consider myself warned."
But not frightened off, obviously.
The office was no less sparsely furnished than before, although there was one additional item that had been added more recently. As well as the two plush velvet armchairs, there was now also a huge chaise lounge.
Its message was obvious.
I thrust the images of golden skin and hard bodies delightfully entwined away irritably, and forced my feet firmly in the direction of the chair. I sat down, crossing my legs and ensuring the skirt's split revealed plenty. Including, if he looked hard enough, the fact I was wearing lacy black panties. I glanced at my watch and saw it was now twelve-forty five. The power should be failing at any minute.
"I just have a few questions to ask," I said briskly, entwining my fingers and resting them on my lap. His gaze followed the movement and lingered on the skin being revealed. "It shouldn't take that long."
"Please, take all the time you want." He pulled the other chair closer and sat down, the action grace itself. "I am quite enjoying the view."
I made a slight attempt to adjust the skirt. "I would prefer it if you didn't."
"And I'd prefer it if you were naked and putty in my arms, but we can't all get what we want now, can we?"
"Thankfully, in this case, no."
He smiled and touched a toe to my calf. Delight shimmered up my leg, heating me in ways I couldn't even begin to describe.
I shifted so that his touch fell away. His amusement grew stronger, twitching his lips.
"Do you know a man called Kye Murphy?"
He frowned, pretending to consider the question as his deep-lidded glaze slithered up to my breasts then down to my legs again. "Should I?"
"We know he's been to this club."
He arched a pale eyebrow. "And how would you know that? I do hope you haven't bugged the place. That would be most inconsiderate, considering I've gone out of my way to help you. "
"It's the Directorate's business to be inconsiderate - especially when we're chasing a killer." I paused, and allowed a small smile to touch my lips. "However, we haven't bugged you. I saw him when I was viewing the security camera tapes."
"Ah, of course." He laced his fingers and dropped them on his lap - drawing my gaze to the bulge that was his crotch. I have to say, it seemed even more impressive now than it had before. But then, if this guy was a flesh shifting wraith who could alter his body any way he wished, he wouldn't exactly be gifting himself with small bits, would he?
The lights chose that moment to go out, plunging us into darkness. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. At least things were going to plan.
So far, at least.
A few seconds later, the lights flickered and came on again, but this time their glow was much dimmer. A backup generator was powering the emergency lighting, obviously.
There was a knock at the door, and when Starke said "Enter," Boris opened the door, a tray of Bollinger and two glasses in hand. "The power has just crapped out, boss," he said, placing the tray on the little table beside Starke's chair.
"Then deal with it," Starke said, "and ensure I'm not disturbed for as long as Ms. Jenson is here."
"Which won't be long at all," I assured them both.
The barkeeper smirked. Starke merely looked amused. Once Boris had left and the door was once again closed, he said, "So why is this Murphy fellow of interest to you?"
"Because he's a hired hitman, and we don't believe his reasons for being in town."
Starke's toe was somehow caressing my leg again, and desire began to unfurl inside of me. But I didn't shift my leg, if only because it was already hard up against the arm of the chair.
"So you suspect that he's behind these beheadings?" Starke poured two glasses of Bollinger and handed one to me, his fingers lingering briefly against mine.
I pulled my hand away and placed the glass on the floor. He tut-tutted. "Come now, Ms. Jenson, you know the rules. I cannot answer questions if you're going to waste the nectar of life."
"I thought blood was the nectar of life for you vampires?"
"Only to those who do not have the good taste or the fortune to afford life's true necessities."
"Which blood is to a vampire."
"Only to some. For me, the only thing sweeter than Bollinger is the taste of a woman dripping with desire."
His gaze met mine, and caused all sorts of havoc to my breathing. I reached down, picked up the glass, and tried to get my breathing under control. Slowly in, slowly out. It was simple, really.
Only my mind fastened on the words and suddenly began imagining other things going slowly in and slowly out. And that caused still more chaos.
I took a sip of the deliciously cool liquid, but it didn't do a lot to stamp out the sparks threatening to become a bonfire.
God, if this man wasn't the wraith, then he was something just as dangerous. Hell, the use of werewolf auras were restricted by law and this damn well should be too.
I cleared my throat and said, "So, Kye Murphy."
He shrugged. It was an elegant movement. "He could have come here. I don't know everyone who visits my establishment. But perhaps a description would help?"
"He's several inches taller than me, with dark red hair, golden eyes and strong build."
"And a werewolf, like you?"
"Yes." I took another sip of champagne.
"Then I doubt it." His sudden smile was wicked. "We don't really cater to their addiction."
"We like sex, but it's not an addiction." It might be a necessity during the full moon, but that was different. I glanced surreptitiously at my watch. Little more than ten minutes had passed. Time had obviously decided to slow to a crawl. I hoped Kade and his crew weren't intending to do the same.