Darkness Hunts (DA 4) (23 page)

And the bitch had known about the connection well before I’d gotten involved—she was just more intent on protecting the secrecy of the fucking club than in protecting its patrons.

“Have any of them killed while they were feeding?” If they had, it might explain our killer’s insistence that they needed to be destroyed. It was a view I could almost agree with—although his time and attention would have been better spent chasing down those responsible for the clubs’ existence than attacking the addicted who attended them—whether by choice or not.

“No.” Hunter hesitated again. “The Dove is not like Dark Earth. It caters to those who are more lightly addicted.”

I snorted softly. Addiction was addiction, and unless something was done about it, it would always get worse. But the vampire council seemed content to cater to the situation rather than cure it.

Damn it, these women
weren’t
like the men and women I’d seen in Dark Earth. They weren’t so far down the abyss of addiction that they couldn’t function normally. Hell, they held down jobs, something the deeply addicted could rarely manage. They
could
have been helped, if they’d wanted it, and if that help had been available. So why these woman rather than those who drank from and sometimes killed blood whores in clubs like Dark Earth?

“The killer called them Kudlak,” I said. “Is that another name for blood-whore-addicted vampires?”

“No. Kudlaks are something else entirely.” She turned around, giving me a brief glimpse of stark white walls and a view out over the bay through ceiling-to-floor windows. She wasn’t at her Directorate office. Maybe she was home—she was certainly old enough that even windows that large wouldn’t be much of a threat sun-wise. “Kudlaks originate from Croatia and some parts of Slovenia. They are a form of vampire who are, at their core, evil.”

“Define ‘form of vampire.’”

“Both the Croatians and the Slovenians believed them to be a form of energy vampire—someone who feeds off the emotions of others, and who does evil when alive, but who becomes an
actual
vampire at death.”

I frowned. “But you have to undergo a blood ceremony to become a vampire. You don’t just become one willy-nilly.”

She smiled, though it did little to lift the darkness in her eyes. “You and I know that, but truths often get lost in the beliefs and myths handed down through time.”

“So why would this man believe his victims are Kudlaks rather than plain old vampires? And why the hell would he think it’s his birthright to kill them?”

“If he believes his victims are Kudlak, it is possible he also believes himself to be Kresnik.”

Meaning we weren’t dealing with an ordinary, everyday nutter after all, but something far worse. I rubbed my eyes wearily. “What’s a Kresnik?”

“Ah, that’s where this gets interesting. According to the myths, a person born with a caul—an embryonic membrane still attached to the head—is destined to become either a Kudlak or a Kresnik. It is said a person born with a red or dark caul becomes a Kudlak, but a person born with a white or clear caul becomes a Kresnik.”

“And it’s the destiny of Kresniks to go after Kudlaks?”

“Yes.”

“So what else do these myths say about them? Do they have any special powers?”

“I have never come across either personally, but it is believed Kresniks can leave their bodies to attack their foe, and are also capable of magic.”

Which explained our killer’s ability to harm someone both astrally and physically, as well as the hint of magic Azriel had sensed when we’d found Dorothy’s body.

“Are Kresniks also vampires?”

She hesitated. “Some legends suggest they are enhanced by the goodwill of the community, and that in itself suggests energy vampirism rather than blood.”

Which meant it was more than possible he could move around in daylight, since energy vampires often didn’t have the same restrictions as blood vamps. The thought had trepidation shivering through me. “What kills them?”

“Kudlaks are killed by impaling them with a hawthorn stake, then slashing their tendons below the knees and letting them bleed out.” Amusement touched her lips. “Of course, such actions would kill anyone, human or not.”

Except, I suspected, her. Not because she was immune to such things, but because no one who knew her—or knew
of
her—would ever be stupid enough to attempt such a thing. “Is Dani Belmore still at the Dove?”

It wasn’t likely, given that the man behind this madness had said she’d only an hour left to live, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“No. She hasn’t been there for several days, apparently.”

So why had Vonda believed that she was? Or was that simply a belief our killer had implanted? “Did you get the club’s management to check the security tapes, on the off chance she met someone near the club?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “She would not be foolish enough to meet anyone outside the club.”

I snorted softly. “She has an addiction, and she’d just come away from feeding it. I seriously doubt she would have been too worried about what she should and shouldn’t be doing as she left the place.”

Amusement touched her lips again. “You would have made a good guardian, Risa, if you’d chosen such a path.”

It sure as hell would have been an easier path than working for
her
. “Does that mean she
did
meet someone?”

“She caught a cab in Glass Street.” I didn’t ask how they knew this, because I knew she wouldn’t tell me. She continued. “I will send you the details of the company and driver.”

Hunter paused and gave me
that
face. The one that said I’d better do what I was told. And yet her face didn’t even twitch—it was more a darkness that crept into her eyes. “Do not inform Rhoan where you got the information.”

Or you’ll both die.

The unspoken words seemed to hang in the air, despite the fact that the conversation was over a phone, not in person. But then, this wasn’t the first time I’d heard that warning or seen that look.

“I know the drill,” I said. “What about Dani herself? Could the manager tell me anything about her?”

“He did not know her personally—he had to look up her membership form to remember who she was. I will send you the relevant details.”

“Thanks.”

“Remember to check in when you uncover any new information regarding the keys.” And with that, she hung up.

I sighed in relief, then glanced at my phone as it indicated an incoming message. Hunter was fast, I’ll give her that. But then, she had been warned about the situation by Markel and had undoubtedly been waiting for my call.

There wasn’t really much information about Dani—nothing more than her address and banking details, which suggested that at the Dove, members paid for the privilege of easing their addiction. But maybe they did that at all the clubs—if they were a moneymaking venture, it would certainly explain the council’s reluctance to address the problem.

The taxi driver who’d picked Dani up was Charlie Tan, and the depot was in Tullamarine, which was only about ten minutes away.

“You wish to go there now?” Azriel asked.

“No, I don’t,” I all but snapped. “But it’s not like I have much of a choice, is it?”

He raised his eyebrows at me. I sighed again, and waved a hand. “Sorry. The anger isn’t aimed at you.”

“
This
time.”

I half smiled. “Yeah. No guarantee about the next time, though.”

Amusement touched his lips, and warmed places deep inside me. “Something would have to be very wrong for you not to be angry with me at least a couple of times a day.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad—”

“Oh, but it is.” The smile still tugged at his lips, and took away some of the sting of the words. “But then, you are not alone in feeling frustrated by the situation we find ourselves in, Risa.”

I guess that was true. He just seemed to control it better than me. I double-pressed the ear stud and said, “Rhoan, I need to disappear for a few minutes. Give me a call if you find anything.”

“I won’t ask where you’re going, because I have a suspicion you won’t tell me,” he replied. “But if you find anything and
don’t
tell me, there will be hell to pay.”

“I’m just going to check in with a hacker friend. He might be able to help find either this club or what the hell Hartwell is.”

Rhoan grunted. Whether he believed me or not was anyone’s guess. I turned off the earpiece again and glanced at Azriel. “Let’s go.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and zapped us through the gray fields. We reappeared in the middle of an industrial estate. The place across the road was some sort of auction building, and the parking lot to one side of it was filled with cars of all makes and models. I spun around, spotted the cab company, and headed for the office. Azriel fell in step beside me, then opened the door and ushered me inside. The receptionist gave us a warm smile, but I couldn’t help noticing it was mostly aimed at the man who stood beside me. Which niggled, but also made me wonder what the hell she was seeing. If the intensity of her gaze was any indication, there might well have been nakedness.

No
. There was amusement in Azriel’s mental tone.
Although that can be arranged if you so wish
.

If you get naked for her before you get naked for me, I’ll be more than a little annoyed.

I have already been naked with you.

Not nearly enough, I’m afraid
.

“How can I help you?” the receptionist said.

“I need to speak to Charlie Tan,” I said, a touch more tartly than I probably should have. “We’re trying to trace the location of a woman who was recently a passenger in his cab.”

She frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t—”

Azriel made a small movement with his hand. “It is vital we find her.”

“Oh,” she said. “Okay. Hang on a sec.”

She spun away and picked up the phone. I glanced at Azriel.
And just what happened there?

I made her believe we were police.

I didn’t think you reapers were supposed to intervene in the thoughts of others.

We aren’t. But I am Mijai, and we do whatever must be done
.

Something ominous crawled down my spine at the emphasis he placed on “whatever.” I shivered but refrained from saying anything as the woman turned back toward us.

“If you just go through the door to your left, Francis will be able to help you.”

Azriel gave her a high-wattage smile. “We appreciate your help.”

She blinked and all but stammered, “My pleasure.”

He turned and walked toward the indicated door. I followed, torn between amusement and annoyance.
You handled that a little too well. Done it before, have you?

As I said, I do what must be done. In this case, it’s getting the information we need quickly so we can solve this and move back to our real quest.

Then why not just pluck the information from her mind? Why flirt? And why flirt with a damn stranger and not with me?

Because she does not know where the cabdriver is, nor can she connect us to him
.

He opened the door and ushered me inside again, one hand pressed against my back. The light contact chased away the ominous sense of trepidation that still lingered, but did little to ease the niggling annoyance.

A woman—Francis, I gathered—glanced up from a com-screen as we entered, and gave us a pleasant smile. And once again, it was mostly aimed at Azriel.

“Sue says you need to speak to Charlie urgently.” Her gaze swept him, and interest sparked deep in her brown eyes.

I felt a sudden urge to grind my teeth. The only reason I didn’t was because it wouldn’t have done any good.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, yes,” Azriel replied, his voice warm enough to melt ice.

If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,
I grouched silently.
Good grief
.

Azriel glanced at me, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.
And you were accusing me of jealousy?

I crossed my arms and regarded him steadily.
It’s not.

In the same way as mine is not?

This is different.

I do not believe it is.

You’d believe the sky was green if it suited you.

That is an incongruous statement.

But true.

His smile increased, but he returned his attention to Francis as she pressed several buttons, then swished a finger across the screen. The face of a man appeared. He was bald and chubby, with red cheeks and merry blue eyes.

“What can I do for you, officer?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Azriel beat me to it. Perhaps he thought politeness wasn’t in my current repertoire given my sudden bout of grouchiness. And to be honest, he might have been right.

“We believe you picked up a woman in Gable Street a day or so ago. Can you remember where you took her?”

He frowned. “Listen, I get a lot of passengers—”

“This woman was regal-looking, with silver hair, a thin face, and a hooked nose,” I interrupted. “She might have appeared high on something.”

He grunted. “Yeah, I remember that one. She smelled funny—like old paper. I dropped her at some abandoned industrial building in Brooklyn. I did ask her if she had the right address, being a woman and alone and all, because it wasn’t a nice-looking place.” He looked suddenly worried. “Has something happened to her?”

“No,” Azriel said, in a reassuring voice. “We simply need to talk to her. Can you give us the address where you left her?”

“It was Cawley Road. I don’t know the actual number, but the place had a stack of old shipping containers on the premises. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you very much for your assistance, Mr. Tan.”

“My pleasure,” he said, and then the screen went blank.

Francis swiveled in her chair and gave Azriel a somewhat sultry look. “Anything else I can do for you, officer?”