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“To what aim, do you know?”
“According to my source, it’s the muertes’ role to enforce the council’s edicts and punish those who break the rules.”
Enforce being a more pleasant word for kill. “I wonder if that also includes rogue draman towns?”
“From what I understand, the muerte don’t leave evidence. If they had destroyed any of those towns, we wouldn’t even know about them.”
It didn’t mean the council hadn’t destroyed the towns, just that there was no evidence of it. And yet, if the council was behind the cleansings, why would Damon now be investigating them? Then I frowned, remembering the words of the oddly familiar-sounding stranger who’d talked to Angus in the van. He’d said something about Damon’s presence not being the result of direct council orders, meaning that this was either a private investigation or something else entirely was going on.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, my source said don’t fuck with them. If the man you call Death is one of them, you might be wise to get the hell away while you can.”
“Leith, he’s investigating the cleansings just like I am. Right now, I need him. Or at least I need the information he’s holding.”
“And are you sure it’s worth the risk? We already know these bastards will do whatever it takes to get the job done, no matter what—or who—gets in the way. I’d hate to see you follow the same path as Rainey.”
I’d hate to see me going the way of Rainey, too, but it wasn’t like I could walk away. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t do eve
rything I could to save her soul. And if that meant endangering my own life, then so be it. I owed her that, and more, for all the years she’d protected me from the worst of our clique’s ravages.
“But with the muerte by my side, there’s less chance of me ending up like that, isn’t there?”
“Being with him didn’t stop your apartment—or your brother’s—from being torched.”
“At least I wasn’t in them, Leith.”
“But you could have been.”
A point I couldn’t argue, so I simply said, “Did you uncover anything on Seth Knightly?”
“I’ve found several people who swear he died in a car accident, but there’s nothing official. I don’t suppose you know where the accident happened? It might make hunting the death certificate easier.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you there. I was too busy dancing in celebration to actually listen to details.” I glanced across the road, just to check whether Damon had reappeared yet, and found myself staring into the blue-eyed gaze of the stranger who’d chased me from the Ritz not three hours before.
My heart leaped to the vicinity of my throat, and it took every ounce of control to keep meeting his gaze, and to not react to his presence. To trust that the subtle changes Damon had made would make the difference between that man recognizing me and not.
“Leith, I have to go.”
There must have been a touch of panic in my voice, because he said, very quickly, “Problem?”
“I’ve just spotted someone I need to talk to.” The man was still staring, and sweat was beginning to trickle down my spine. So much for the chill in the air. “I’ll ring you back later.”
“Make sure you do, or we’re coming after you.”
I hung up then crossed my legs. The miniskirt rode up my thigh even farther and the guard’s gaze slipped downward. A smile touched his thin lips and, for one panicked moment, I thought he was going to cross the street to talk to me.
But he turned away and moved to the bus stop near the Fifth Street intersection, leaning against the outside wall of the shelter and taking a newspaper from his coat pocket. He’d positioned himself in such a way that he could see both the building entrance and me.
It might not mean he suspected my identity, but it sure as hell made things awkward. I dialed my phone’s twin and listened to it ring.
“Hello?” The urbane voice that answered was Damon’s and yet not. Like his looks, it could easily have belonged to someone older. In the background, I could hear Robyn talking and other phones ringing. Our office was never quiet, even on slow news days. With the recent spate of fires, today wouldn’t have been one of them.
“Our Ritz watcher has just turned up. He’s standing at the bus stop near the entrance, reading a paper.”
“Has he spotted you?”
“He saw me before he moved to the bus stop. He hasn’t made a move toward me, so he may not have recognized me.”
