What that something else could be she didn't want to know.
Though her imagination was certainly firing up some fantastical ideas—like maybe it was his soul rising.
As if anyone could see something like that.
Ignoring the goose bumps running rampant across her skin, she picked up his hand and studied the ring on his finger. It was a gold thick band with a square front. The symbol carved into it looked like a flame wrapped in barbed wire. Odd.
She let his hand drop, leaned forward and pulled off the mask covering his face. He had red-gold hair and green-gray eyes that were wide with shock. This wasn't any ordinary assassin, but a product of Hopeworth.
If Hopeworth was the birthplace of the Wetherton clone, why would it send an assassin after him?
Why send one after her, if they wanted to find out more about her?
It didn't make any sense.
But then, when had anything in her life ever made sense?
It was frustrating, to say the least.
She rose to her feet and walked across to the edge of the building. The fire had been controlled and SIU officers were headed her way. She crossed her arms and waited for them.
Right now, there was nothing else she could do.
* * * The phone rang loudly. Gabriel reached out, making several empty grabs before he hit the vid-phone's receive button.
"This had better be good." He opened an eye and glared blearily at the time. Six in the damn morning. Couldn't he even have a day off without someone contacting him?
"You should try getting an early night for a change."
Stephan's voice sounded altogether too cheerful.
Something must have happened. He rose on his elbows and looked at the vidscreen. His own image stared back at him. Stephan had to be at the Stern compound, not at his home or at the office. It was the only place he ever used his true form.
"You should try calling at a decent time." He yawned and dropped back down to the pillow. "What's up?"
"Hopeworth made an assassination attempt on Wetherton last night."
The last vestiges of sleep skittered away. Gabriel jerked upright again. "Is Sam okay?"
"Yeah, though she shouldn't have even been there.
According to her report, the assassin was one of Hopeworth's creations. We can't ID him. Hopeworth is currently denying all knowledge, but I tend to agree with her."
Why would Hopeworth risk the life of one of their specialist killers on a man who was supposedly one of their own? It didn't make any sense.
He rubbed a hand across his eyes. "What about your vampire? He come through?"
Stephan frowned. "No sign of him. Looks like he may have taken the opportunity to run."
"You knew it was a possibility."
"A ten percent chance. Worth the risk, given what's at stake."
To draw out a man who was little more than a name, they'd let a killer back on the streets. Was it worth the risk? They wouldn't really know until Sethanon took the bait—if he took the bait.
"A warrant been issued?"
"Yeah. Francis and King are turning over his known haunts."