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I ordered a cup to go, then climbed into the car and drove across town to the next murder scene. Whoever was behind these didn't seem to be overly choosy about their location. First Fitzroy, then Coolaroo, now the green-living, artist-friendly hub known as Eltham.
I parked the car behind the other Directorate vehicles, then walked across the grass. This kid had been murdered in the trees near the railway lines and, like before, her neck had been slashed.
I stopped several feet away from her body. The metallic tang of blood mingled with the dying warmth of raw meat, but layered in between was a scent that reminded me of solvents.
"She had a gun?" I said, my gaze on Cole rather than on the bloody, broken body he was squatting beside.
"Yes." He didn't look up as he spoke. "And it may lead to an early capture of this particular zombie. She shot off one of the creature's fingers before it got her."
"Damn shame she didn't aim for the zombie's head. That might have done them more good."
He glanced up at me. "Not everyone is as efficient at killing as you guardians."
"And some of us guardians wish we weren't as efficient, either."
He snorted softly. "Jack would have a fit if he heard you say that. You are his protegee, after all."
"It's not a job I particularly liked or wanted, Cole, but I'm stuck with the damn thing and have to make the best of it."
He raised his eyebrows. "Even guardians can quit."
"Not this guardian. It's either this or military for me."
"Why?" he asked, frowning. "It's just a job. It's not a life commitment."
"Maybe not for the rest of you." I might have accepted my guardian role, and some part of me might even enjoy the hunting aspects of it. But I didn't want to be doing this for the rest of my life, and yet I could see no way out. The drug introduced into my system so long ago was still wreaking havoc, and until we knew what the full scope of those changes were, the Directorate was the safest place to be. They could at least monitor what was going on. "Buy me a drink sometime, and you just might tempt me to tell you the whole sorry tale."
His grin crinkled the corners of his eyes, and made his whole face light up. "And I suppose you're hoping a drink would lead to sex?"
"Werewolves aren't that easy. I'll have you know it'd take two or three drinks, at least."
He laughed. "Good to see your standards have risen."
I grinned. "Sorry to see yours haven't. You don't know what you're missing, Cole."
"I'll survive."
I was sure he would. "Did you get enough of the finger to get a print off it?"
He nodded. "I sent an image through to headquarters. They're doing a search."
"Finding the zombie probably won't help us find the master."
"You don't know that."
Yeah, I did. The woman behind these things was not only powerful, but clever. I very much doubted she'd be keeping barely animated carcasses close at hand for someone to see and report.
"Did you find out anything about the last zombie?"
"Not much." He shrugged. "But there doesn't seem to be any connection between him and the people he killed."
"No, but remember it isn't the zombie who's going after these people. It's the person who's raising them who'd have the connection."
"Well, there's no obvious link between the first two victims, and I doubt we'll find one here."
"There has to be something. We just aren't seeing it yet."
"Undoubtedly." He paused a minute to pick something black off one of the woman's remains and shove it in a plastic bag. "We found some feathers at the old warehouse. They're currently at the lab undergoing DNA testing. Interestingly, there were no prints of any kind on the gantry where the crow was resting."
