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I held my hand over the phone, and mouthed her name to Ben. Seriousness suddenly overtook the light amusement that had been lingering in his eyes. "Trouble?" he said softly.
I nodded.
"He was decapitated," Vinny said.
Decapitation was the one way to prevent someone who'd taken the blood ceremony from ever rising again. Hell, it was one of the few good ways to stop a regular vampire, too. It didn't kill them outright, but with a broken neck they couldn't move and couldn't feed, and death was usually the end result.
"Did the sensation of his death tell you anything else?"
"I didn't see his murderer, if that's what you're asking," Vinny said. "But then, I do not have to. This death came via Aron Young."
After his slice-and-dice efforts on Ivan yesterday, Young was the immediate pick for prime suspect. That didn't make him guilty, of course, and neither did the certainty in Vinny's voice.
"If you didn't see it, how can you be so sure?"
"Because I tasted the need for vengeance on his lips."
Which suggested her kiss was a whole lot more than just a meeting of lips - which is what I had feared all along. God, what had she tasted on mine? Part of me wanted to ask, but maybe it was better to just ignore the whole situation.
"You tasted that, and yet still let him see Ivan?"
"His money was good," Vinny said. "And I thought I could control the situation."
And her overconfidence had now cost Ivan not only his life but his afterlife, too.
"You had the chance last night to tell me what you knew about Aron Young. This death is on your conscience, Vinny."
If she had a conscience, that is. Personally, I figured her conscience would only come into play when it suited her.
"I realize that," she snapped. "Which is why I've rung. Aron Young lives at 4 Havard Street, Glenroy. Kill him for me."
"The Directorate isn't your personal assassination squad," I snapped back, then hung up and flung the phone back into my purse. After a deep, calming breath, I met Ben's gaze. "Ivan's dead."
"I gathered that." He crossed his arms, his expression grim. "How?"
"Decapitated."
Understanding ran through his bright eyes. "So, no rebirth, then."
"No." I hesitated, then added, "I'm sorry you lost another friend."
He smiled and reached across the table, taking my hand in his and squeezing my fingers lightly. "Catch this bastard for me."
"I will." I glanced down, suddenly wishing the hands that clasped mine with such warm strength could caress the rest of me and bring me back to aching, fierce life. I wanted that. Wanted it bad.
I just wasn't sure that I was ready for it.
Besides, I had a bad guy to catch, and as much I had never wanted to be a guardian, I had grown to enjoy many parts of the job. I couldn't now shirk responsibility to pursue pleasure.
I rose. "I'll ring you later. We'll finish this another time."
"I certainly hope so."
He released my hand, and my hormones let out a collective sigh of frustration. I ignored them and headed out.
Once I was in my car and back on the road, I switched on the onboard and contacted the Directorate. Jack answered.
"I need another cell phone number, boss."
