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"Yeah, like they're something I can just haul out of my ass and hand around willy-nilly."
I grinned. "I was under the impression you could do anything."
"You, my dear guardian, are testing even my limits." There was an undercurrent of amusement in his voice, which meant he wasn't as grouchy as his words made out. A quick look down at the screen confirmed the fact. There was a decided twinkle in his eyes. Maybe he'd found himself a nice little blood donor last night. "So tell me why you need to lose a perfectly good phone number."
"Because it seems our emo vampire has acquired it. She rang me just now to tell me we've another dead body."
"You kissed her, didn't you?"
"Well, yeah, because it was the only way to get the information I wanted."
"Emo vamps siphon information through intimate contact."
"I figured as much when she called me. But it got me the name, so I can't say I wouldn't do it again."
I could almost feel his sudden grin. "Darlin', you've come such a long way since we first dragged you kicking and screaming into this job."
There wasn't much I could say about the truth in that statement, so I got back to business. "The accountant that was attacked last night was killed this morning, apparently. Vinny rang to give me the killer's address. I'm heading over there now."
"Did the vamp who attacked him last night feel very old?"
"I didn't get a whole lot of time to sniff him out, but I'd have to guess no."
"Then it can't be the same killer. It's after nine."
And young vamps fried at the slightest touch of sunlight. "Then either he has an accomplice, or he's older than he seems."
"Just be aware of both possibilities when you go in there."
"Boss, I have been doing this for a little while now. You don't need to tell me the basics anymore."
He harrumphed. "You may know the basics, my dear, but you have a frightening tendency to ignore them."
"But that's what makes me a good guardian, isn't it?" I said, then hung up before he could comment further.
It didn't take all that long to get across to Glenroy. It was one of Melbourne's older suburbs, and had originally been the haunt of the working class. These days, it had become a wasteland of run-down and grimy-looking houses - and run-down and grimy-looking people. Which was odd really, considering the closeness to the city.
Using the nav-computer, I found Havard Street and parked several houses up from my target. Number four was a red-brick affair with a sagging roof and smashed front windows. It didn't look as if anyone was living there, but maybe that was the whole point.
I got my gun out of the secure box under the seat, then climbed out, locked the car, and walked down. The scent of decay bloomed in the air, heavily enriched with the smell of humanity. The house beside my quarry's looked to be in a similar state of disrepair, but there were clean-looking floral curtains adorning the windows, and a shiny new car sitting in the driveway. Not hard to guess where all the money had gone in that household.
With the heavy scents that already rode the air, it was hard to catch Young's. Even when I walked through the broken front gate, the wrongness that I'd come to associate with him failed to materialize. I frowned and stopped just short of the steps. Neither of the front rooms had glass, let alone curtains, so I very much doubted Young would be in either of them. Even if he was older than I'd been presuming, he still wouldn't be able to stand the amount of sunlight that was streaming in through those windows.
I flexed my fingers, then gripped the laser a little tighter and made my way around to the side of the house. A ramshackle wooden fence divided the rear yard from the front. I jumped it easily enough, then kept to the side of the house as I crept forward. The ground here was barren, and little puffs of dirt rose with each step, making my nose twitch with the need to sneeze.
I ducked past a window and approached the back of the house. There were fewer windows here, but again, none of them were curtained or boarded - which was extremely unusual for the haunt of a newer vampire.
Dirt and cobwebs caked the back door, but the old metal handle gleamed in the sunlight. The dirt around the handle was smudged - as if fingers had brushed it when opening the door.
So obviously, someone had been through here recently. I just had to hope it was a vampire, and not some poor hobo looking for shelter for the night. Because if it was the latter, he was about to get a very big fright.
I walked up the steps and wrapped my fingers around the handle. Nothing seemed to be moving inside, and the smell of vampire remained annoyingly absent.
Hoping Vinny hadn't sent me on a wild-goose chase, I twisted the handle and carefully opened the door. Cold air rushed out at me, filled with the aromas of rot and age. But wrapped within those scents was the slightest hint of vampire.
It wasn't exactly a fresh smell, but he'd at least been here. He might still be, for all I knew.
I edged inside, my back to the wall and finger on the trigger of my gun. This back room was small, and filled with cobwebs and yellowed newspapers. I flared my nostrils, seeking the scents beyond what was in this room. Still nothing strong. I crept past the stacks of paper and into what had once been a kitchen. What remained of the counters showed recent use. A newish kettle sat on a stove, and a jar of coffee and a cracked mug sat nearby.
