fine for the moment, but when Kade, Iktar, and whoever else Jack had hauled into the squad finally got through training, it was going to be a might snug. Not that I minded getting snug with Kade, but Iktar? I shuddered. The featureless spirit lizard was not my idea of a good time.
So why the delay? The night division had more space than they needed - and decent coffee dispensers to boot - while we made do with one room, and a coffeemaker that had to be constantly refilled.
Of course, the fact that the night division was basically filled with leashed psychos might have had something to do with it. Wouldn't want the inmates getting restless, and all.
Jack wasn't in sight when I strode in, but down the hall, in the liaison's room, the cow was doing her sultry voice routine, so it was a fair bet Jack was down there.
Rhoan sat at one of the desks that had been squeezed into our so-called operations room. He glanced up as I entered, and said, "How are you feeling after your brush with the mad trucker yesterday?"
"Other than a healing cut or two, I'm fine. Any word about the driver?"
"Broken arm and a few lacerations is about the extent of his war wounds. The truck was stolen, by the way. Jack said it was found abandoned an hour later."
"Don't suppose anyone saw the driver?"
"Not a soul."
"Typical." I poured us both a coffee, slopped in some milk, then plonked my butt down on the edge of Rhoan's desk and handed him a cup. "I don't suppose you managed to look into Adrienne's movements, did you?"
He wrapped his fingers around the mug and leaned back in his chair. "Did you know she was a reporter?"
"I guessed it was a possibility. She was apparently asking all sorts of questions up on the island."
"Well if she was working on a story, then she was doing it on her own. According to her boss, she was supposed to be on holidays."
"So she didn't contact him about anything?"
"Nope. Last story she did for him was an entertainment piece on a new nightclub."
"There's a new wolf club? Why didn't anyone tell me?"
He grinned. "If you read the newspapers more, you might have known about it. But it's not strictly a wolf club." He picked up a matchbook off his desk and flicked it toward me. "It's the first mixed-race club allowed in Victoria."
I caught the matchbook one-handed. It was black, with "Mirror Image" written on the front flap in a white, basic font. Underneath this was a phone number and address, and nothing else. I flipped open the lid, and inside sat two neat little rows of matches, their tips black instead of the usual red. There was nothing on the back of the matchbook.
I looked back at my brother. "Mixed-race? As in, open to humans and nonhumans?"
"Yep. It operates in the exact same fashion as regular clubs."
I raised an eyebrow. "What happens when the moon is rising?"
"Nothing. They're open all year around."
"Really? Have the laws changed or are the owners just crazy?"
The old rules gave clubs the right to exclude human entry entirely - and this was a good thing, because were loving could sometimes get extremely rough, especially during the full moon phase. The fact of the matter was, humans just were physically unable to handle it. And I didn't mean sexually. We could shift shape to heal any wounds received during intercourse. They could not. What might be a deep but easily healed wound for a were could be fatal for a human. And the outcry after such a death would be huge, even if the act was consensual.
Of course, the idiots in parliament had been trying to legislate a change for ages, but the Australia-wide protests from both the supernatural community and the saner section of humanity had so far managed to stall them. Or so I'd thought.
"They haven't changed," Rhoan said. "They've just been... ignored. This club is operating under a trial license for a year. If every thing goes well, the current law forbidding human entry into wolf clubs will be overturned."
"That's just stupid."
"Humans have always wanted what they can't have. It's the whole forbidden fruit effect."
That was an effect not restricted to humans, but in this case, the laws were there for a very good reason - the protection of humans.
"This club would have to have a hell of an insurance bill." I looked at the matchbook, flipping it over and