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I meet his gaze, say nothing. So far as I can tell, since becoming vampire, I haven’t had control over anything that’s been done to me.
That stops.
Now.
I push every single word of this afternoon’s conversation out of my head on the drive home. I concentrate only on the mechanics of driving, on my weariness, on the bed I’m going to fall into the moment I get to the cottage. I’ve been up eighteen hours. A few hours’ sleep and I’ll be ready to face the only obstacle I intend to tonight. Judith Williams.
The cottage is cool and quiet, a haven from the bright, sand-reflected beach sun. I make sure the doors are locked, the drapes pulled, and let my head sink gratefully onto the pillow.
His smell hits me like a physical blow. It’s in the bedclothes. Floats on the air. Floods my thoughts like a rising tide.
Damn you, Lance.
I toss the pillow across the room, snatch sheets and blankets and tear them off the bed.
I won’t let him do this to me.
But the bare mattress still retains the scent of us. Of sex and blood and passion.
My hands curl into fists. I’ll haul it down to the Dumpster tomorrow. After I have David back.
Right before I track the bastard down.
It’s only six when I awaken from a nap that did little to remedy a bad case of sleep deprivation. Vivid dreams of the cave in Biarritz were interspersed with equally vivid dreams of Lance—sexual images that my body responded to even as I slept.
When I open my eyes, my face is wet with tears and my body aching with loneliness.
I stumble into the bathroom, strip and force myself to step into a cold shower. The shock of the water is reviving. Sluggishness gives way to a sense of purpose, gloominess to renewed energy. I can’t let despair make me forget what tonight is all about. Finding David.
I dress for a night operation. Black jeans, black long-sleeved T-shirt, black te
If I’m wrong, then what?
I start over.
Once dressed, I’m antsy to get going. I wish now I hadn’t asked Frey along. My thought that he’d have a better chance to prowl the ground u
I’ll have to listen to more of his bullshit about what he read in that stupid book.
It’s just before seven when the doorbell rings. I grab keys and my handbag, and run down the stairs to the front door.
I’m expecting Frey.
I’m not expecting the frowning, angry woman who pushes her way into my home the minute I open the door.
Tracey Banker projects her fury like a bullet seeking a target. And right now, I’m the bull’s-eye. She doesn’t give me a chance to say anything before firing the shot.
“I know you weren’t happy when David brought me on board. I don’t expect us to become best buddies. But you have no right to lie to me. David is in trouble, and you better damn well let me help or I swear I’ll go to the cops and tell them you knew about it all along.”
She’s yelling and waving a piece of paper in my face. I pry it out of her hands. The first thing I notice is that it’s a copy of an email. An email addressed to me.
To me.
The second thing I notice is who it’s from: Judith Williams.
What the hell?
I turn it around and shove it toward her. “You always read other people’s mail?”
“Fucking good thing that I did.” She’s still yelling. “You had some guy call and tell me that you and David had gone out of town on a job. Wouldn’t be back until Tuesday. That’s not what this says. If I hadn’t opened it, by Tuesday it would be all over. David would be dead.”
There’s no way I can explain that I wanted her out of harm’s way. Or, more important, that this is none of her business. She’s in no mood to listen. Instead, I turn my back on her and concentrate on the paper in my hand.
A
Judith Williams
CHAPTER 37
Behind me I sense Tracey pacing like a caged lioness. As soon as she sees my hand lower the page, she pounces.
“Who is she? What does she mean you two have a date with destiny? Why is she holding David hostage? What’s that crap about your true nature?”
She grabs my arm and spins me toward her.
I let her. As long as she’s venting, I can try to figure a way out of this mess. She doesn’t recognize Judith Williams’ name, which is a plus. But Tracey was a cop who worked for Chief Williams. It won’t be long before something triggers a spark of recognition and she puts it together.
Crap. The only thing I can think to do is tie Tracey up and stick her in a closet. For three days? Not very practical.
Tracey still has her hand on my arm. She’s staring at me. “Your skin is cold.” She narrows her eyes. “The note said something about your true nature? What are you?”
The question catches me off guard. As does Tracey’s reaction. She jumps back and away. The fight drains out of her. Her eyes no longer blaze anger, they blaze fear. I smell it on her, mingling with the stink of that perfume she seems to bathe in. Sickly sweet. “What are you?” she asks again.
I try for menacing. “What do you think I am?”
Her expression morphs from terror to confusion. “But is David—?” Her voice drops off before she completes the question.
This may be the opening I need. “Is David like me? No. I’m vampire. He’s worse.” Then I laugh. “Are you serious? You think this is for real? This is a game we play. Like Dungeons and Dragons. You weren’t supposed to know about it. People tend to think it’s a little strange when adults play role-playing games. But it’s harmless. A way to blow off steam.”
She’s rubbing her hands together. “But you’re cold.”
“Poor circulation. Been a problem my whole life. It’s hell on your sex life. Men don’t like getting naked with an ice cube.”
Tracey draws a breath. “Then this whole thing—”
“Is a game. I’m sorry you misunderstood. We only do this once or twice a year but authenticity is part of the fun. We stage mock kidnappings, arrange ‘accidents.’ David will be very embarrassed when he learns you found out.”
I watch as she processes what I’ve told her. The fact that she reacted so violently to the idea that I might be something other than human is worrisome. But if I pursue that now, I risk destroying the illusion that the note is anything other than a game prop.
At last she relaxes. She looks uncomfortable as color floods her face. “I’m sorry I burst in here like a mad-woman,” she says. “First there was that call from David’s girlfriend, then this note. You really should have let me know what you were doing. Maybe I can play sometime, too?”