And its focal point was Harris.

He didn't say anything, his gaze on the helicopter. It was close to the ground now, its blades stirring huge clouds of dust, making the invisible visible. Our vampire murderer was a man - a rather slender man, not big like Landsbury had stated. As a vampire, he didn't need to be.

Harris flung out his right arm, his fingertips flaring, as if he were throwing something. That maelstrom of power flew across the night, slapping into the copter with the force of a storm.

But it was a very precise storm. The helicopter wasn't flung about like a leaf but rather slapped down sideways. The rotor blades chopped into the soil, throwing huge chunks of dirt and grass into the air as it crumpled into the earth. Bits and pieces of metal went spinning away into the night, and sparks rose like eager fireflies. The vampire didn't hang about to see what had happened. He simply turned and ran in a completely different direction.

"Grab the pilot," I said to Harris. "I'll go after the vamp."

He didn't argue, though I guess by rights he should have. Maybe he realized that I wasn't going to be deterred, no matter what he said. Or maybe he simply couldn't see the vamp - though given his unexpected talent of kinesis, who knew what other little goodies he kept up his sleeve?

I swerved to the right, kicking up dust as I ran after the vamp. I had no idea where he thought he was going, but I knew from experience there wasn't much out here in the way of shelter. All I really had to do was keep him in sight and let him run until the sun came up.

Of course, crisping him in sunlight wasn't going to get the answers we needed.

So I reached for all the speed I had and flew across the sands. It was almost as if I was flying: like I was a bird, swooping low over the red soil ...

Power swept through me, over me, and suddenly I was a bird.

A seagull, in fact.

A weird mix of surprise and relief swept through me. Surprise because I really hadn't been expecting it, and relief because not all my skills had been placed beyond my reach.

He didn't know about the alternate shape, that inner voice whispered. He couldn't prevent what he didn't know.

Which still left me wondering how the hell anyone could prevent a shifter from shifting.

I shoved the thought aside and swooped upward, gaining height. Maybe if the vamp thought we'd given up he'd slow down - and make it easier for me to drop down on top of him.

But it soon became obvious he did have a second escape option. From high above, I could see lights beginning to twinkle in the distance. It looked like some sort of farmhouse, and it had various outbuildings. What were the odds that at least one of those buildings had a vamp-ready car waiting to go?

Or worse yet, help?

I might not have been chasing him for very long or very far, but I'd already run out of time. I swooped downward, folding my wings and flattening out my body to streamline it as much as possible. As I got closer, I shifted shape, moving back to human form. He sensed me then, but spun around rather than looking up.

I rolled in the air and hit him feetfirst, smashing him down into the soil and landing half on top of him. The sheer speed behind my dive had me stumbling forward, fighting to keep my balance. Behind me, the vampire snarled - a sound filled with pain and anger.

I swung around and saw the vamp shake his head, sending blood and snot flying, then he pushed to his hands and knees. I didn't give him the chance to rise fully. I didn't even give him the chance to see me. I just twisted around and lashed out with my foot. My heel smashed into the side of his face and the force of the blow knocked him sideways, sending him flying back.

He struggled again to rise, but this time I threw myself at him, hitting him with all the force I could muster. His head snapped back, and he slumped to the ground.

I pushed off his back then hauled him over. He might be out cold, but I was not about to bet that he'd stay that way. I tore the sleeve off my shirt and used it as a gag, prying open his mouth and shoving the knot into it as extra insurance against a bite. He wouldn't be happy once he woke, but right then, I couldn't care less.

With that done, I hauled him up and over my shoulder, letting him flop like a bag of grain over my back. If he happened to wake up, he'd be in pain.

Part of me hoped he did wake. Both Landsbury and tonight's victim might have deserved the death they'd received, but that didn't make their killer worthy of fair treatment.

Harsh, one part of me whispered.

At least he's not dead, another retorted.

All of which made me wonder if half the reason for the gaps in my memory was a desire not to remember exactly what I'd been or done in the past.

I turned around and trudged back toward Harris and the shattered helicopter. It might not have been far, but by the time I arrived, I was hot, sweaty, and tired. The vamp wasn't big, but that didn't mean he was light.

Surprisingly, there was no one else there yet. Harris obviously hadn't called in help. The helicopter rested on its side like some forgotten child's toy and the pilot lay beside it, trussed securely with wire that had obviously been ripped out of the copter. He was bloody and bruised, and looked rather the worse for wear. He was also unconscious.

Harris was leaning into the fallen helicopter, pulling out bits of papers and scanning them, but swung around as I approached. Relief touched his features as he dropped the paperwork and walked across to me, grabbing the vamp by the waist and hauling him off my back. I sighed in relief and rubbed my aching shoulder, watching Harris dump the vamp on the ground beside the pilot.

"How come you haven't called for assistance?" I asked.

"Because," he said, swinging around to face me, "I tried ringing Mike but he's not answering his phone. And if you're right about there being a plot surrounding you, then I don't think it's wise to let too many other people know that you helped me bring down a vamp."

I frowned. "The young officer saw me running with you, and the vamp certainly knows I brought him down. I wouldn't think either is going to keep my presence a secret."

"Did the vamp actually see you?"

I frowned. "No. Why?"

"Because you were shadowing when we were racing up here. Benny wouldn't have seen you, and he wasn't close enough to scent you. So if the vamp never actually saw you clearly, then we don't have a problem."

I'd had no idea that I was shadowing. Obviously, whatever had been done to my mind had somehow switched my "other" skills from conscious to automatic. "The vamp never bothered looking around to see who was chasing him, and I never gave him the opportunity once I brought him down."

"Good," Harris said. "Then leave, and make sure no one sees you. Loop back the long way if you have to. I'll take care of these two."

"Will the cells at the station be strong enough to hold the vamp?"

He smiled. "They're strong enough to hold werewolves. They'll hold a vamp."

I wasn't so sure, and maybe my expression said as much because Harris added, "But we have several pairs of titanium handcuffs. We'll use those on the bugger, just to be sure."

I nodded. "The Directorate will want to interview him."

"That's only if the Perth office considers our problem interesting enough to come down here. We still haven't had any communication from them."

"You might not. They might just show up on your doorstep tomorrow." I hesitated. "There's also the problem of the vamp's telepathy - "

"We have nanowires," he cut in. "This place may be in the middle of nowhere, but I've ensured we're equipped to deal with anyone and anything."

"And I'm betting all the fancy equipment came out of pack funds, not government." State governments Australia-wide were still struggling to supply the bulk of their city forces with nanowires, so it was doubtful they'd be wasting them on places like Dunedan, where vamps were likely to be few and far between.

Harris's gaze narrowed a little. "You know altogether too much about the workings of the police and the Directorate. If you're one or the other, and have gone missing, it's a wonder there's not an all-state alert out."

I shrugged. "Maybe there is. Driver's licenses can be faked, you know."

"Yours is in the system."

"That doesn't make it any more real."

"True, but the picture is of you, and that alone should have raised interest." He glanced at his watch. "You'd better leave, or I'll be dealing with questions as to why I waited so long to call this in."

"Then consider me gone."

I spun on my heel and loped away, taking the long way back to our villa. The place was dark and the TV was off. I frowned. It seemed unlikely that Evin would still be at the pub, or that he'd gone to bed. It was far too early. I unlocked the sliding door and slid it open.

"Evin?" I said without actually stepping inside.

No answer came, but an odd, tingly awareness ran across my skin.

Something felt wrong.

I flared my nostrils, drawing in the air, searching for scents that didn't belong. There were two - pine and smoke, combined within the musk of male. The scent of a stranger.

Someone had been here.

I blinked, switching to infrared as my gaze swept the darkness. There was no hint of body heat within the villa. Whoever had been here was long gone. I reached across to the light and switched it on - not the brightest thing in the world to do given I was still in infrared mode. I blinked away tears and returned to normal vision.

Nothing seemed to have been touched. The room wasn't destroyed and everything was sitting where we'd left it. I stepped inside, locked the door behind me, then walked into Evin's bedroom. Again, nothing appeared to have been moved, although he didn't seem to have much in the way of personal items. Not even a picture of the woman he was sworn to.

I walked out of his room and into my own. Again, nothing appeared to have been disturbed.

I frowned and wondered if the scent simply belonged to a cleaner. Except - why would they come at night?

Didn't hotel cleaners usually work during the day, when most guests were out and about?

No, there had to be another reason for that scent being here.

I spun around and walked back out to the kitchen. And that's when I saw the note stuck to the fridge.

I tore it free of the magnet and opened it. The writing was strong and dark, the words ugly.

You owe me, it said. Meet me at the Whale Station ruins by eleven, or you won't see your brother alive again. And don't bother calling the cops - he'll be shark food long before anyone gets there.

Anger surged, but I wasn't entirely sure who I was more angry at - them for doing this, or myself for not realizing they might pull a stunt like this.

But then, despite Harris's warning - or maybe because of it - I'd expected Denny to come after me. Attacking Evin was the coward's way out.

Meaning he wouldn't be waiting for me alone. He'd have friends to back him up. His sort always did.

I was tempted to crumple the note up and toss it in the bin, but I resisted the temptation. The note was evidence, and I had a feeling I'd need that - especially given that Denny was the son of the pack's second. It would be his word against mine without this note, and his father's status in the pack would matter, even if it wasn't supposed to.

So I went through the kitchen cupboards until I found some plastic wrap, then covered the note with it, trying to touch the paper as little as possible so there'd be less chance of smudging whatever prints might be on it. Then I shoved it inside my jeans pocket. I wasn't about to leave it here. They'd already proven locked doors didn't stop them, and I wouldn't put it past them to have someone waiting for me to leave so they could come back in and grab the note.

So where the hell was the old whaling station?

Frowning, I walked around the kitchen counter and grabbed the information booklet that was sitting near the phone. After flicking through several pages, I found it. It was, according to the map, at least a two-and-a-halfhour drive. I glanced over my shoulder to the clock. It was almost nine - I'd never make it if I drove. But then, I had other options - options Denny and his friends couldn't know about.

So why would they bother giving me a time limit they knew I couldn't make? Unless the whole point was to panic me so that I'd simply rush there without thought or aid?

After all, if they did have someone watching the house, they'd know when I left and could estimate my arrival. Which meant I'd have to at least make a show of being panicked, just in case.

I blew out a breath, then walked back to the kitchen and opened the drawers. There wasn't much in the way of weapons - a set of old steak knives was about the extent of it. But they were better than nothing, so I shoved one down each sock.

I went back into my bedroom to change from my warm and sturdy shirt to something a little more flimsy, then grabbed my coat, found the car keys, and raced out, making a pretense of fumbling the locks.

I didn't see anyone, didn't scent anyone, yet I had a feeling they were out there all the same. The back of my neck crawled with the sensation of being watched.

I jumped into the car, started it up, then spun it around and fishtailed down the drive. I kept my foot flattened, racing through town and out into the dark hills. By the time I was a good ten or twenty miles out, it was obvious I wasn't being tailed, so I slowed down and starting looking for someplace to hide the car.

There weren't a whole lot of options in this land of endlessly rolling sand hills, so I simply drove off the road, then up and over the nearest hill. The tracks in the soil would give me away if anyone bothered looking hard enough, but hopefully they wouldn't be.