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Which didn't mean he was guilty of the crime I'd come here to question him about, because lots of vampires had either safe rooms or escape hatches built into their homes. But the fact that he'd used his certainly wasn't pleading his innocence.
The wolf couldn't move any faster without running the risk of making the tunnel collapse around me, which meant it was time to shift shape.
In seagull form, I exploded out of the tunnel, sweeping upward on silvery-gray wings. Only to find myself in a garage, staring at the back of a fast-disappearing van.
It was a white Ford transit - one of those big square vehicles with no side or rear windows, and tinted front windows. The perfect vehicle for vampires, in other words.
Surrey drove at breakneck pace onto the Nepean and headed back toward Frankston, weaving through the traffic like a madman and running most of the lights. He slowed down as he neared central Frankston, moving off the Nepean and onto a series of side streets, until he reached an industrial area. Finally the van slowed as it approached a line of basic, gray-painted warehouses. The heavy steel door of the warehouse in the middle began to roll up, and the van pulled inside. I swooped in after him and flew up into the ceiling, perching on one of the rafters as the van came to a halt and Surrey climbed out.
He looked like a man in a panic. Sweat beaded his face, and the scent of fear was so intense I was aware of it even in seagull form.
He paced the length of the van several times, running his hands through his thin hair and generally looking like a man possessed, then stopped and dug his phone out of his pocket.
"Come on, come on," he muttered, his voice crackling with anxiety.
Whoever he was calling didn't answer. "Fuck," he said, then spun, throwing the phone at the wall. It hit with force, smashing into a hundred different plastic and metal bits before it even hit the floor.
I wondered if Cole and his team would be able to pull information out of them. It probably depended on whether the main chip had survived the impact.
He swore again and stalked toward a small office tucked into the far corner. I leapt off my perch and flew down to the van, shifting shape as I neared the ground, landing lightly and silently at the rear of the vehicle.
Surrey remained in the office. He might have been a vampire, but he obviously was in such a state of panic that he hadn't yet registered my presence.
I crept forward and peered in through the driver's window. There were guns on the front seat, which meant Surrey himself was more than likely armed.
I wasn't. All my weapons were locked securely in my car.
I slid my fingers under the door handle and flicked it upward as carefully as I could. The resulting click was soft, but it still seemed to echo across the silence as sharply as a gunshot.
"Who's there?" Surrey demanded.
I reached in, grabbed one of the guns, then said, "Riley Jenson from the Directorate, Mr. Surrey. Put down any weapons you're holding and come out of the office with your hands up."
He didn't reply, but the tension and fear riding the air seemed to ramp up several degrees. I glanced down to check whether the gun was loaded, then flicked off the safety and wrapped a finger around the trigger.
I didn't want to shoot him, but I didn't want to take any chances, either.
"Come out of the office," I repeated, when there was no sign of movement from within the small room.
"What do you want with me?" His voice was edged with panic.
I'd dealt with many vampires over my years as a liaison and a guardian, and I'd never come across one who was so afraid. Which suggested he at least had some involvement with the murder.
"I just need to talk to you," I said.
"What about?"
"About a murder that happened in Melton." As I spoke, I reached out telepathically, feeling for his thoughts. If I could break through his shields and get to his mind, I could not only freeze him but find out once and for all whether he was actually guilty of this morning's murder.
Only what I hit wasn't the buzz of shield but rather blankness. This vamp was mind-blind, just like my brother. Which meant no one, no matter how powerful, could read or control him telepathically.
I cursed silently. So much for trying to do it the easy way.
"I don't know anything about no murder." And yet the anxiety staining the air ramped up several more notches, belying his words.
"Then you've got nothing to worry about." I scanned the warehouse quickly. There was a whole lot of space between me and the office, and while there were no windows looking out in this direction, he didn't really need them. He was a vamp. Not only did he have infrared vision at his disposal, but he'd hear my heartbeat and feel the rush of blood through my veins. "Just come out and talk to me, Mr. Surrey."
He didn't answer. I blinked and switched to infrared myself. Vampires tended not to have a lot of body heat, although they were far from cold - especially the older ones, like Quinn. Surrey was a deep, dark-red blur huddled in the corner of the office.
