Free Deadly Desire by Keri Arthur

as far as we know, but we've contacted his partners and told them to check.”
    “Why would anyone want to rob an accountant?”
    “Because he's been a record keeper for three hundred years, and has amassed quite a fortune.”
    God, he had to have loved his job to have done it for that damn long.
    “I'll send you the address,” Jack continued. “Mel and her team are already there.”
    “Has Cole's report for Armel's murder come through yet?”
    “He's still working on it, but he believes there were magical influences.”
    I raised my eyebrows. “In the robbery or the murder?”
    “Hard to say. Head over to Bovel's straight away. We need to nip this in the bud quick, before the vamp community gets antsy.”
    And
that
wouldn't be good for anyone. “Will do.”
    “Trouble?” Liander asked as I hung up.
    “Another dead vamp. Tell Rhoan I probably won't be home for dinner.”
    “Will do.”
    I grabbed my bag and headed back out. The address had come through on the car's onboard computer and I drove over to Brighton in record time. The beachsidesuburb was the local “it” spot for all those who were more than mere millionaires and, because of this, had its fair share of older vamps. After all, any vamp over a certain age had time enough to amass more money than most humans.
    Which didn't mean they were good targets. Most vamps protected their fortunes fiercely, and the wise robber went elsewhere. Especially if he didn't love the thought of becoming a vampire's next meal.
    I pulled into the victim's driveway. The house was another of those modern ones that always looked like a big white concrete box—and it still surprised me that vampires chose to live in these places. I would have thought something dark and gothic would be more their style. But then, vampires these days were all about breaking expectations.
    A dark van with Directorate plates sat in the tree-lined parking lot and the front door was open. A sticklike figure hovered near it, dusting for prints. It had to be Janny. Mel's other team member—Marshall—was a portly soul.
    I grabbed my ID as I walked up the grandly arched steps and showed it to the mobile recording unit that had been set up in the doorway to record all movement in and out of the house. There'd be others inside.
    “Afternoon, Riley,” Janny said without looking up. Her voice was surprisingly mellow and rich, though I don't know why I always expected it to be otherwise. Something to do with her insectlike looks, I think.
    I stopped and studied the doorknob she was dusting. No obvious prints. “How bad is it, Janny?”
    She shrugged. “I've seen worse.”
    So had I, but that never made it any easier. “Same method of disposal as the first killing?”
    “Seems to be. Mel's inside if you want a fuller report. You'll find her upstairs.”
    “Thanks.” I stepped past her carefully and headed for the stairs. The air inside was alive with the flavors of the house—the delicate aroma of rose mixed with the deeper resonance of vampire. Underneath that, the metallic tang of blood. I couldn't smell the wrongness that had been in Armel's. Not on this floor, anyway. I climbed the stairs.
    Mel poked her head out of a doorway, brown hair shining in the sunlight streaming in through the windows at the far end. “You want to check the bedroom on the right for me? There's a scent in there I can't define, and I'm wondering if it's the same as the one you found in Armel's.”
    I nodded and headed in. The interior of Garrison's matched the exterior, and his bedroom reflected this. The white walls held little in the way of adornment and the bed—with its deep red comforter and matching pillows—was the only splash of color in the room. Even the carpet was white—a bad color for a vampire to have in a place where he fed, I would have thought. Even the smallest of splashes would have been noticeable. The red bed, at least, made sense.
    I studied the scents of the room, searching for the one I'd