Midnight's Kiss (Elder Races #8)(17)

Graydon said quietly, “Shane’s a good man. You did all the right things. If Soren will take me, I can start investigating immediately.”

She looked at the Djinn. “Would you do that?”

“Absolutely,” Soren said. Julian noted the conspicuous lack of bargaining in the exchange. Djinn were notorious for striking bargains for an exchange of favors – which was their currency of choice – but clearly Soren had some affection for Tatiana, and perhaps even for Melly as well. “I also want to talk to the guard who was on duty at the gate yesterday evening. Did he notice anything unusual?”

Tatiana rubbed her forehead. “When Shane questioned him, the guard said it had been a perfectly normal evening. Shane said he was telling the truth.”

Julian shook his head. “You said the community is gated, yet Melly still disappeared. I know captain Shane is an experienced magic user, but I would examine the guard a lot more closely if I were you. Eyewitnesses are unreliable at the best of times, and memories can be tampered with. He could have been glamored or coerced. A strong Vampyre could do it, or a Powerful witch – even Dragos, so I’m told.”

A silence fell, as everyone in the room considered him.

Soren said, “I’ll be sure to examine him, myself.”

Graydon pointed out, “There are also other ways a gated community can be breached. I could do it easily, and so could Soren.”

“Shane said he hasn’t sensed any residual magic,” Tatiana said. “But he hasn’t had time to comb the whole area.”

Soren looked at Tatiana. “We have a lot to do, and we need to move fast, so we’d better leave now.”

“Thank you so much.”

Soren put his hand on Graydon’s shoulder. In a whirlwind of Power, the two men disappeared.

As soon as they had left, Tatiana turned to Julian. With a restraint made painful by the amount of emotion behind her words, she said, “It was good of you to come.”

It was the most genuine warmth Tatiana had shown him since he had cut things off with Melly.

Briefly, he considered mentioning his suspicions about Justine. However, he was under no illusions about his relationship with Tatiana either. She had reached out to him out of desperation, not from any newfound sense of affection or friendship. She wouldn’t believe a word he said about Justine, not without proof, and he didn’t have any. The only thing he had was a train of thought based on what could very well be a coincidence.

Gesturing with one hand, he said, “Of course.”

“I was hoping you might help with increased patrols at the Nightkind border.” She paused, rubbing her forehead. “I know your resources must be strained at present.”

That was her way of referencing the trouble in his own demesne. “Yes,” he told her. “But I can still put out increased border patrols. I’ll also issue a confidential demesne-wide alert for the Nightkind police to keep an eye out for any sign of Melly.”

Her raw gaze dampened. “Thank you. Could you also make a list of places you think should be searched? Bailey and I have been writing down every place we can think of – if you could just take a look at the list and let us know if there’s any place else you think we should add to it.”

“Of course,” he said again.

Bailey approached him, holding the notebook in one outstretched hand. From her rigid features, and tight mouth, he was willing to bet she hadn’t agreed with her mother’s decision to call him for help.

Ignoring her hostility, he took the pad of paper and turned away again as he scanned the places they had jotted down. It looked comprehensive to him. In fact, there were several places on the list he wouldn’t have known to suggest, but then he and Melly hadn’t been together in twenty years.

Had she taken lovers to these places? How many lovers had she had since Ferion? His mouth tightened at the thought, and the old resentful anger tried to resurface.

His skin prickled as a whirlwind of Power swept into the room again. A moment later, Soren reappeared. While the Djinn and the two women began to talk about search strategies, Julian jotted two places down on the paper.

One was a cabin at Lake Tahoe, where he and Melly had spent some time together. The winter that year had been so cold, the lake had turned into a sheet of ice, and he and Melly had made love over and over again in front of a roaring fire.

The other was a winery in Napa Valley. It had been a spur-of-the-moment trip.

That time had been much like the trip to Lake Tahoe. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Her curves had felt like heated silk, and he had lost himself in voluptuous sensuality, drunk on the wine in her blood and a desire that burned away everything and left him feeling burnished and new again.

His lip curled at the memories. He shoved them aside. If he could burn them out of his head, he would.

Both places were so far-fetched as possibilities, he couldn’t imagine they might still be relevant. But until they had a search strategy defined, they had no idea what might be relevant or not.

His phone buzzed. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checked the display.

It was a text message.

From Justine.

The old general in him roused, readying for battle. The waiting and strategizing was over. It was time to engage. He thumbed open the message.

If you want to see Melly alive again, meet me in one hour outside the de Young Museum in the Golden Gate Park. Say nothing to anyone. Come alone.