Keri Arthur - Full Moon Rising

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE:

Linda, for teaching me so much

Miriam, for taking me that final step

The Sock Monkeys and the Lulusgreat writers one and all

The night was quiet.

Almost too quiet

Though it was after midnight, it was a Friday night, and Friday nights were usually party nightsat least for those of us who were single and not working night shift. This section of Melbourne wasnt exactly excitement city, but it did possess a nightclub that catered to both human and nonhumans. And while it wasnt a club I frequented often, I loved the music they played. Loved dancing along the street to it as I made my way home

But tonight, there was no music. No laughter. Not even drunken revelry. The only sound on the whispering wind was the clatter of the train leaving the station and the rumble of traffic from the nearby freeway

Of course, the club was a well-known haunt for pushers and their prey, and as such it was regularly raidedand closedby the cops. Maybe it had been hit again

So why was there no movement on the street? No disgruntled partygoers heading to other clubs in other areas?

And why did the wind hold the fragrance of blood?

I hitched my bag to a more comfortable position on my shoulder, then stepped from the stations half-lit platform and ran up the stairs leading to Sunshine Avenue. The lights close to the platforms exit were out and the shadows closed in the minute I stepped onto the street

Normally, darkness didnt worry me. I am a creature of the moon and the night, after all, and well used to roaming the streets at ungodly hours. That night, though the moon rode toward fullness, its silvery light failed to pierce the thick cover of clouds. But the power of it shimmered through my veinsa heat that would only get worse in the coming nights

Yet it wasnt the closeness of the full moon that had me jumpy. Nor was it the lack of life coming from the normally raucous club. It was something else, something I couldnt quite put a finger on. The night felt wrong, and I had no idea why

But it was something I couldnt ignore

I turned away from the street that led to the apartment I shared with my twin brother and headed for the nightclub. Maybe I was imagining the scent of blood, or the wrongness in the night. Maybe the clubs silence had nothing to do with either sensation. But one thing was certainI had to find out. It would keep me awake, otherwise

Of course, curiosity not only killed cats, but it often took out inquisitive werewolves, too. Or, in my case, half weres. And my nose for trouble had caused me more grief over the years than I wanted to remember. Generally, my brother had been right by my side, either fighting with me or pulling me out of harms way. But Rhoan wasnt home, and he couldnt be contacted. He worked as a guardian for the Directorate of Other Raceswhich was a government body that sat somewhere between the cops and the military. Most humans thought the Directorate was little more than a police force specializing in capture of nonhuman criminals, and in some respects, they were right. But the Directorate, both in Australia and overseas, was also a researcher of all things nonhuman, and its guardians didnt only capture, they had the power to be judge, jury, and executioner

I also worked for the Directorate, but not as a guardian. I was nowhere near ruthless enough to join their ranks as anything other than a general dogsbodythough, like most of the people who worked for the Directorate in any capacity, I had certainly been tested. I was pretty damn happy to have failedespecially given that eighty percent of a guardians work involved assassination. I might be part wolf, but I wasnt a killer. Rhoan was the only one in our small family unit whod inherited those particular instincts. If I had a talent I could claim, it would be as a finder of trouble

Which is undoubtedly what Id find by sticking my nose where it had no right to be. But would I let the thought of trouble stop me? Not a snowflakes chance in hell

Grinning slightly, I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and quickened my pace. My four-inch heels clacked against the concrete, and the sound seemed to echo along the silent street. A dead giveaway if there were problems ahead. I stepped onto the strip of half-dead grass that separated the road from the pavement and tried not to get the heels stuck in the dirt as I continued on

The street curved around to the left, and the run-down houses that lined either side of the road gave way to run-down factories and warehouses. Vinnies nightclub sat about halfway along the street, and even from a distance, it was obvious the place was closed. The gaudy red-and-green flashing signs were off, and no patrons milled around the front of the building

But the scent of blood and the sense of wrongness were stronger than ever

I stopped near the trunk of a gum tree and raised my nose, tasting the slight breeze, searching for odors that might give a hint as to what was happening up ahead

Beneath the richness of blood came three other scentsexcrement, sweat, and fear. For those last two to be evident from that distance, something major had to be happening

I bit my lip and half considered calling the Directorate. I wasnt a foolnot totally, anywayand whatever was happening in that club smelled big. But what would I report? That the scent of blood and shit rode the wind? That a nightclub that was usually open on a Friday night was suddenly closed? They werent likely to send out troops for that. I needed to get closer, see what was really happening

But the nearer I got, the more unease turned my stomachand the more certain I became that something was very wrong inside the club. I stopped in the shadowed doorway of a warehouse almost opposite Vinnies and studied the building. No lights shone inside, and no windows were broken. The metal front doors were closed, and thick grates protected the black-painted windows. The side gate was padlocked. For all intents and purposes, the building looked secure. Empty

Yet something was inside. Something that walked quieter than a cat. Something that smelled of death. Or rather, undeath

A vampire

And if the thick smell of blood and sweaty humanity that accompanied his sickly scent was anything to go by, he wasnt alone. That I could report. I swung my handbag around so I could grab my cell phone, but at that moment, awareness surged, prickling like fire across my skin. I no longer stood alone on the street. And the noxious scent of unwashed flesh that followed the awareness told me exactly who it was

I turned, my gaze pinpointing the darkness crowding the middle of the road. I know youre out there, Gautier. Show yourself.

His chuckle ran across the night, a low sound that set my teeth on edge. He walked free of the shadows and strolled toward me. Gautier was a long, mean stick of vampire who hated werewolves almost as much as he hated the humans he was paid to protect. But he was one of the Directorates most successful guardians, and the word Id heard was that he was headed straight for the top job

If he did get there, I would be leaving. The man was a bastard with a capital B

And just what are you doing here, Riley Jenson? His voice, like his dark hair, was smooth and oily. Hed apparently been a salesman before hed been turned. It showed, even in death

I live near here. Whats your excuse?

His sudden grin revealed bloodstained canines. Hed fed, and very recently. My gaze went to the nightclub. Surely not even he could be that depraved. That out of control