“No, he didn’t.” Jack gave Rhoan a somewhat severe look. “But he didn’t need to. I have, as I said, been aware of the situation for some time. And I’m sorry about Jak. That was . . . unfortunate.”
He’d been aware . . . and yet hadn’t done a damn thing. And because of that, Jak had died. I slapped a hand on the table and thrust to my feet. “And will Rhoan’s death be unfortunate?” I exploded again, waving a hand at him. “Will Aunt Riley’s? Where are you going to draw the line?”
“Ris, enough,” Rhoan warned softly. “Let the man explain.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then met Rhoan’s gaze and closed it again, suddenly aware of the fury building near the coffee machine. Jack might be able to control his emotions, but right now they were extremely close to erupting.
I sat down, wrapped my fingers around my coffee cup, and waited. After a moment, Jack walked across to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Every move was measured, considered. He sipped his coffee, saying nothing, and while that sense of fury didn’t ebb, the sensation of imminent danger eventually did.
“My sister,” he said, after a few minutes, “deserves the chance to step away—”
My gaze flashed to his. “What?”
“Ris,” Rhoan warned again.
I glared at him but shut up.
“She started the Directorate,” Jack said. “And she has spent centuries protecting this world and its people. I cannot and will not go up against her without giving that history the respect it is due.”
“Whatever good she’s done here and elsewhere in the past doesn’t give her a pass for unleashing known killers on innocent people,” I said. “That’s the premise the whole Directorate was built on, wasn’t it? Protecting humanity from supernatural predators?”
“I’m well aware of what the Directorate stands for.” Jack’s voice was mild, but there was a note in it that chilled. “My sister may have founded the Directorate, but I helped build it to what it is today. Never forget that.”
I wouldn’t, but I had to wonder if Hunter had. Had to wonder if, in the end, it came down to a choice, whether Jack would side with his sister or the organization he’d helped build.
His comments earlier suggested the latter, and I certainly hoped that was the case. I very much suspected Jack was, in his own way, as dangerous as Hunter. The two of them together might be nigh on unbeatable.
“Besides,” he continued, “there was no confirmation that the vampire who killed Jak was sent there by my sister. Rhoan interviewed him when he was first captured, but a formal interview never occurred and the suspect died while being transported here. I will not move on her, officially or otherwise, without definitive proof of wrongdoing.”
“Oh, how convenient,” I muttered, though I had to admit, the news did surprise me. I really had thought Hunter would use that vampire to lure Rhoan into doing something rash—like confronting her. Instead, he’d confronted me and had probably saved his life by doing so. Of course, once her plan was so obviously foiled, Hunter had simply erased the evidence by erasing the vampire.
I contemplated Jack for a moment, then slowly said, “I guess it’s fortunate that I taped his confession, then, isn’t it?”
“You did?” Rhoan said, expression annoyed. “And why didn’t you hand it over when I confronted you about Jak’s death?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Would you, given the situation? The woman who runs this place is your boss, and she has god knows how many people under her thumb. Even if you didn’t do as she wanted—confront her—I’m betting the taped confession would soon have disappeared.”
“I want you to hand over that confession to me,” Jack said. “That is evidence, and you should not—”
“I’ll send you a copy,” I cut in. “But I’m keeping the original as a security measure.”
Jack smiled, and there was something almost sad about it. “Do you think, for a second, that one vampire’s confession will be enough to curb my sister’s activities? If you do, then you have no real understanding of her.”
“I understand her plenty.” I met his gaze, judging him as he undoubtedly was judging me. Seeing not only the remaining embers of fury in his eyes, but the growing fires of resignation. He knew a war was coming; he knew the time had come to make a stand. “But she hasn’t got the key yet, and she hasn’t taken over the council yet, and the existence of that tape might well force her to at least place her plans on a temporary hold. And that might just give us the time we need to find the key and stop darkness being unleashed on the world.”
Whether that darkness was hell itself or Hunter didn’t really matter.
Jack drank some coffee as he contemplated me. Eventually he said, “She will know where the confession came from. That might well place you in a difficult situation.”
“It couldn’t be any more difficult.” My voice was grim. “She’s given me twenty-four hours—of which there are now just under twenty-two hours left—to find and hand over the next key; otherwise, she’ll start picking off people close to me.”
Jack closed his eyes. Rhoan swore and said, “Which is the reason you told Riley and Quinn to get the hell out of town.”
“And why I need you out.” I held out a hand to halt his almost instinctive refusal. “I know, I know. But you could at least get Liander somewhere safe. She may value you too much to actually kill you—no matter what she’s threatened otherwise—but Liander is another matter entirely.”
That hit home. Liander was, after all, his soul mate, and very few wolves could survive such a death. Riley had, but then, she’d also had Quinn. “Done,” he said, and jumped up. He moved across to the other side of the room and made the call.
I met Jack’s gaze again. “You said you were keeping some control over the situation—is there any way at all you can protect Rhoan?”