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That wasn’t unusual when it came to any sort of addiction, but we weren’t talking about an inanimate substance here; we were talking about human life. I couldn’t help asking, “But surely there comes a time when such an addiction becomes too dangerous for both the abuser and the vampire population in general?”

“It does,” Hunter said, her expression impassive yet cold. “And when that happens, it is dealt with appropriately.”

Meaning good-bye addictive. I rubbed my arms. “So what time did they all stop using these rooms?”

“All four were stopped from using the facilities just after one a.m.”

And the hour between midnight and one was witching hour—the hour when all things dark and dangerous came out to play.

“That,” Azriel said softly, “is a possible link.”>Was it a trap? It couldn’t be. Hunter wanted to use me; she didn’t want me dead.

But Hunter wasn’t the council. She didn’t control it. Not yet.

I licked my lips and reluctantly trailed after her.

“Going to that room isn’t a good idea.” In more ways than one. And yet I couldn’t retreat, couldn’t run. Hunter might be striding purposefully toward the feeding room, but there was a coiled readiness in every moment. She would react—fast and brutally—if I ran. “The fact that they’re ghosts doesn’t mean they’re incapable of understanding everything that goes on in that room. If we discuss anything there, they might just pass the information on to whatever is causing this.”

She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I know.”

I blinked. That wasn’t exactly the answer I’d been expecting. “Maybe I’m a little slow, but wouldn’t the ghosts passing on the information mean the killer may run?”

“If it is a Rakshasa, as your reaper suspects, then I doubt it. They are creatures drawn to the dark energies of death, despair, and revenge, and there are few places in Melbourne that hold those in great abundance. It will continue to be drawn here while it is in its feeding stage, regardless of the threat we pose.”

I studied her curiously as we stopped near the doors to the bigger feeding room and the three people who waited inside. “You’ve come across them before?”

She looked down her nose at me—no mean feat when she was actually shorter than me. “I have lived a very long time, and I’ve hunted far greater nightmares than a Rakshasa.”

And she’d be right at the top of any sane person’s nightmare list, I thought grimly, and saw her green eyes flash dangerously. With the way my luck had been running of late, it was no surprise she caught that particular thought.

Marshall opened the door for us. The room was the same sterile, ghost-filled place it had been before, only this time the smell of antiseptic wasn’t as strong. Marshall had stopped the use of this room.

But this time the ghosts were not the only beings in the room.

All three were long, thin strips of humanity. There were two men and one woman, different in looks and nationalities, but all sharing two common traits—a fierce, cold-blooded glow in their eyes and a cruel twist to their mouths.

I’d thought Hunter was the most dangerous person on earth. Seemed I was wrong.

“Marshall, close the door, please,” Hunter commanded. As he obeyed, she joined the three in the center of the room, then swung around to face me. If she sensed the ghosts, she had no reaction to them.

“I have the list of those who have died in this room,” she said without preamble. “But the Cazadors will chase that avenue. What else do you want to know?”

She made no effort to introduce her companions, and they remained silent, studying me with cold intent. Chills raced up and down my spine, and Amaya hissed in useless fury. I flexed my fingers, and tried to concentrate on the business at hand. I had a bad feeling that I would find out what was going on soon enough.

“In other words, you have no intention of telling me how many died in this room.” I took one step closer to her and the ghosts, then stopped. The bitter, bloody anger that surged around me struck as sharply as any whip. My flesh shuddered under the impact of it, and I half wondered if my already battered body would gain yet another rainbow of bruises to add to its collection.

“That is not something you need to know.”

My gaze flicked to the vampires on either side of her. The energy that poured off them felt dark and coiled. I licked my lips and said, “What about the autopsy reports? Can I see them?”

“There is nothing in those reports that disagrees with what you already know. All five victims were torn apart and half consumed, and the poison used could not be identified.”

Frustration and fear swirled through me. “I wanted to see the reports so I can read them myself. If I’d simply needed questions answered, I would have asked them.”

Step warily, Risa, Azriel warned. I do not think it wise to be too antagonistic toward Hunter in front of her peers.

Once again my gaze flicked across the three, and I had the sudden sensation of snakes about to strike. I shivered.

“There are no files, Risa. Every report comes to me verbally. As I’ve said, I will not risk this investigation—or these clubs—becoming a matter of public knowledge.”

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