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He hesitated. “Earlier this week we were having problems contacting her, but she called yesterday and said her phone had been on the blink.” He grimaced. “Obviously, it still is.”

Either that, or the shape-shifting spirit behind these kills had decided to abandon the Summer identity. And that, in turn, meant we were dealing with a spirit with more intelligence than I’d thought them capable of. Although why I’d thought them incapable of logical thought, I couldn’t say. Maybe I’d just figured dark spirits were all about the need to kill and little else.

“What about Di Shard?”

He blinked. “What about her?”

“Well, have you had a similar problem with her recently?”

“She was out of contact for a couple of days, but it wasn’t a problem because we didn’t actually have her booked for anything.” He shrugged.

“Have you been in contact with her recently?”

“She called this morning to ask if there were any bookings.”

“And were there?”

“Nothing last moment. But I did have to remind her about her regular midnight booking at the Falcon Club, which was a little odd.”

Meaning if our dark spirit had taken over the identities of both Summer and Shard, the Falcon Club was most likely her next hunting ground. “Have you got a picture of the two women?”

“Sure.”

He rifled through the paperwork on his desk and handed me two photos. Both women were tall, with thin features and dark hair. Other than the fact one had pale skin, the other dark, they could have been mistaken for sisters.

I glanced up at Parred. “Until recently, how reliable were they?”

“Very.” He grimaced. “Reliability and quality performances are necessary assets in this business. Without it, you don’t survive that long.”

“I don’t suppose you could give me their addresses?”

He frowned. “No, I’m sorry, but information like that is private. I couldn’t hand it over without a warrant.”

“What about a cell phone number? It’s urgent that I speak with both women.”

His frown deepened. “I’m not sure—”

“It’s only a cell phone number,” I said, using my most persuasive voice. “It’s not like I can use it to track down their addresses or anything.”

He snorted. “The Directorate could.”

“The Directorate could have just pulled their driver’s license details and gotten the information from there.”

I could have, too—or rather, Stane could have. But I needed to take all the right steps to satisfy Hunter, and that had to include talking to the people who employed the two women.

He studied me for several seconds, then half shrugged. “I guess it won’t hurt.”

He leaned forward, pulled an old wireless keyboard out from under his desk, and began typing. I glanced at Azriel. Don’t suppose you could take a sneaky look over his shoulder without him noticing?

I could. His tone was amused.

I smiled. Then would you?

Of course.

He appeared behind Parred. Shard lives in flat one, ten Martin Street, St. Kilda, and—he hesitated, waiting as Parred did some more typing—Sands lives in flat eleven, one twenty Newman Street, Kensington.

He reappeared on the seat beside me just as Parred grabbed a piece of paper and scrawled two phone numbers onto it. “Here,” he said, sliding the paper across to me. “The first is for Shard, the second for Sands. Hope you have better luck contacting them than I have of late.”

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