My cell phone beeped almost immediately. I picked it up and glanced at the message. Hunter's friend—who went by the very German-sounding name of Wolfgang Schmidt—lived in Brighton, a very upmarket suburb near the beach. No surprise there, I guess—I certainly couldn't imagine her slumming it with the regular folk in places like Broadmeadows or Dandenong.
I read the rest of the text, then looked up at the main phone's screen again. "Is the security system just key coded?"
"Yes. Wolfgang is—was—a very old-fashioned vampire. He saw no need for anything more than a basic system."
And maybe, just maybe, that had gotten him killed. While there was no electronic security system on earth that would actually stop a demon, it wasn't beyond the realms of possibility that something other than a demon had killed her vampire friend.
I mean, no one could ever be one hundred percent right all the time. Not even Hunter—although I'm sure she'd claim otherwise. And really, what sane person would argue the point with her when she wasn't?
Certainly not me.
And yet you do, Azriel commented, a trace of amusement in his mental tone.
I think we've already established I'm not always sane. To Hunter, I added, "You're not going to be there?"
"No."
I frowned. "Why not?"
"Because I have"—she hesitated, and an almost predatory gleam touched her gaze—"a meeting that needs to be attended."
If that gleam was any indication, the so-called meeting involved bloodshed of some kind. After all, the council—and Hunter—considered it perfectly acceptable to punish those who broke the rules by allowing them to be ripped to shreds by younger vampires.
Still, it seemed odd that she wasn't hanging around to garner my impressions, especially if she cared for the dead man as much as I suspected.
Like many who have lived for centuries, she has strayed from the path of humanity, Azriel commented. For her, emotions are fleeting, tenuous things.
But not all those who live so long find that fate. Uncle Quinn's not far off Hunter in age, and he's as emotional as anyone. Although he could also be as stoic and cold as any of them when the urge took him.