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"We did manage to have a nice little chat with the creep." I rubbed my arms as I spoke. It was becoming so damn cold in the warehouse that I might as well have been standing there naked. "He said he knows The Cleaver."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "And he offered you the information?"
"No," Rhoan said, as he walked up and stopped beside me. "He offered us a contest."
"What sort of contest?"
"We play a game - the first one to track down and kill the serial killer wins."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Gautier does realize he's no longer a guardian, doesn't he?"
"Oh yeah," I muttered dryly. "And I think you'll discover he's relishing the fact if you take a little look in those back rooms."
"Then why would he make a deal like this? Especially when it benefits the Directorate rather than himself?"
"Maybe all he wants is the satisfaction of knowing he is better than us." I shrugged. "He said you used to rave about how good Rhoan is, and how good I could be. He wants to prove to himself and to us that this is not true."
"Yeah, right." Jack snorted softly and glanced at Rhoan. "Are you buying that?"
"Not in the least. He may well know the identity of our killer, but I fear there's a darker reason behind the offering of this contest. Gautier's a killer, and he's long believed in his own superiority. He doesn't need a contest to prove it He never has."
"Exactly. Which means we need to kill him before whatever plan he has comes to fruition."
Like we hadn't been trying to do that for the last few months? Gautier was the best guardian the Directorate had ever produced - expecting second-raters and the barely trained to hunt him down and kill him softly was nothing short of irrational.
"Gautier's not a fool," I commented "He knows there's an execution order out on him. He's not going to provide us with an easy target."
"No But if either of you do get the chance, I want you to take it." He looked at both of us, green eyes bleak. "Regardless of who or what gets in the way."
Rhoan nodded. I didn't react. On a scale of things I could handle in my life as a guardian, killing an out-of-control baby vamp was stomach-turning but survivable. Ending the life of someone who got between me and Gautier was a totally different thing. I'd killed, there was no denying that, but each time it was in either self-defense or defense of my pack - which, in my case, was Rhoan.
I guess some would argue that blowing Davern's brains out was a cold-blooded action, but then, he'd not only tortured my brother, he was the brains and the brawn behind the whole cloning and crossbreeding venture that had been responsible for so many deaths. Not to mention the reason behind the ARC1-23 drug being injected into my system.
Play with fire and you'll end up getting burned, my mom used to say. Well, Davern had played with me and Rhoan just a little too often, and he'd finally gotten his comeuppance.
"Riley? Did you hear me?"
I looked at him. "I heard."
"And?"
"I won't kill in cold blood for you, Jack."
"Even if it's Gautier?"
"Gautier I'll kill the minute I get the chance. But I won't jeopardize the lives of others to get him."
"Still fighting the inevitable to the very end?"
"And I'm so glad it's still amusing you."
He chuckled softly. "Why don't you two go home and warm up? Report in at nine, and we'll see where we go from here."
Rhoan spun and headed toward the door, but I walked over to check the little girl first. There was still very little color in her cheeks and a lot of frantic activity on the part of the medics. Chill fingers of dread ran down my spine. Death seemed to hover far too close, and deep inside I knew that if I reached out psychically, I would feel her fate. Feel the death that was waiting out there in the shadows.
I shivered and turned away. There was hope yet. I had to believe that, if nothing else.
One of the medics looked up as I moved, and tossed me the coats and sweater. "Get the bastard who did this."
