Gabriel nodded. She scrambled to her feet, and his gaze swung to her, hot with a pain she couldn't understand. "You stay here."
"I'm coming with you."
"No." His voice cracked, as if he were barely controlling his pain. "It's too dangerous for you there."
Karl stood. "If he was dead, you would know."
"That's just it. I don't — either way."
He walked out the door. A few seconds later, an engine fired to life, and then a car sped away. She glanced across to Karl. "What was that all about?"
Karl considered her for a moment, and then sighed. "Hanrahan's not only Gabriel's boss. He's his brother. His twin brother."
Chapter Eleven
Sam blinked. Not even the most irrational of minds would think that the two men came from the same family tree, let alone be brothers. "They can't be."
Karl's smile was grim. "Hanrahan's a shapeshifter. His true form is similar."
"So why isn't he a shapechanger like Gabriel? How can twins have two totally different talents?"
"Both talents are strong in their family." He shrugged. "Twins aren't always identical, so why would their talents always be identical?"
"Makes sense, I suppose." She swallowed the last of her drink and held out the glass. "I don't suppose I could have another."
"I think we both need one." Karl accepted her glass and moved back to the bar.
She sat back down and watched the vid-screen. There were still lots of people pouring out of the partially destroyed building, and there were plenty more milling around a safe distance away. That was surely a good sign, especially since the State police offices only had a skeletal staff on at night. But she guessed it depended on just how much damage was done to the underground floors.
"It's sometimes better not to watch."
Karl held out her glass. She blinked away a tear and accepted it with a nod of thanks. "I need to know — "
She stopped. He was right. She didn't need to see this. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened. Nothing she could do if someone had died in her place. Nothing she could do to ease the sense of guilt that would probably haunt the rest of her nights.
"Turn it off." She took a large swallow of scotch. At the rate she was consuming the alcohol, she'd end up drunk in no time. And maybe that would be a blessing.
The panel eased shut over the images, and Karl sat back down. "Want to talk about the tests and why I want to run them?"
"Let me guess. I can see the kites, and you want to know why." Her voice had a sarcastic edge. She glanced at the liquid, then shrugged and took another drink. What the hell. Maybe if she offended him enough, he'd throw her out of the house, and that too, might be a blessing. Alone, she just might be able to start finding some answers instead of stumbling into blocks all the time.
Karl considered her for a moment, his brown eyes curious and friendly. "Actually, no. I'm more interested in the fact that you may have Shadow Walker blood in you."
She blinked. She'd wanted honesty, and Karl was certainly giving it. "Shadow Walker? What the hell is that?
"A race that died out some fifty years ago."
"If it died out, how can I have it?"
"Maybe someone kept it alive."
Maybe it was the alcohol, but his answers weren't exactly making sense. "What do you mean?"
"I'm not really sure myself."
He wasn't trying to avoid an answer — he simply didn't know. Both his body language and her own innate ability to sense a lie told her as much. And yet that same innate ability was telling her something was very wrong. She shifted and tried a different tack. "So what is a Shadow Walker?"
"It's a very rare race that is said to be vaguely related to the vampires, without possessing their need for blood to survive."