“Blah, blah, blah. That’s all I’m hearing from you. I don’t care if it’s his first name or his tenth. You knew it was significant and didn’t say a word to me about it.”
Lucas eyed her intently, and Kathryn became aware that they weren’t alone in the parking lot. There were at least two other vampires lurking on the edges, and his lieutenant Nicholas suddenly appeared around the back of the SUV.
She frowned. Nicholas looked like someone had sliced off half his face, or at least tried to. What the hell?
“What happened to you?” she asked, walking the short distance between them and reaching out to touch his cheek without thinking.
He flinched back with a quick look in Lucas’s direction.
Kathryn spun around. “Did you do that?”
“What?” Lucas demanded. “Hell no!” He straightened abruptly to his full height, taking two hard strides until he was right on top of her, golden eyes glittering with anger as he loomed over her. “Look, Kathryn, there are things going on that you don’t know about. Things that are every bit as important as your missing brother. Nicholas was seriously injured last night. He shouldn’t even be here, but he is because you were too stubborn to wait one fucking day—”
“I might not have a fucking day, don’t you get that?” she yelled at him. “Daniel might not have a day. For all I know your crazy friend is—” Her voice broke off. She couldn’t say out loud what she feared might be happening, what she feared had already happened. She shivered, suddenly freezing cold. She hugged herself, even though she knew the sudden cold owed more to her emotional state than the temperature.
“Kathryn,” Lucas said softly. “Ah, don’t. We’ll find your brother.” He pulled her into his arms. He was so warm. She hadn’t expected that, had somehow thought vampires would be cold even if they weren’t really dead. It was tempting to stay there, but she didn’t.
“You don’t know that,” she muttered, shrugging away his arms, even as she instantly regretted the loss.
Lucas’s lips flattened. “Fine. I don’t know it, but I believe it.”
“What if—”
“Don’t say it, a cuisle. Let me tell you something about vampires. Especially vampires who frequent blood houses. When they find someone they like, someone who catches their fancy for whatever reason, they take them home for a while. Don’t you know anyone, a friend, a relative, who’s met someone in a bar and spent a lost weekend with them?”
“Lost weekend?” she repeated.
“Sex, Kathryn. A weekend in bed, fucking your brains out with someone new, someone you might never see again, or maybe even someone you’ll end up marrying and having a passel of brats with. But the point is, vampires make a habit of it. They find someone . . . well, tasty, and take that person home for a while. It’s completely consensual. Any vampire caught forcing a human these days is dealt with severely by his rightful lord.”
“I don’t see what vampire sexual habits have to do with—”
“If Alex Carmichael does have your brother, and I don’t think he does—”
“I think so, and so does my gut. And I trust my gut a lot more than I trust you.”
“Ouch,” he said, giving her a wounded look. “Okay. I’ll grant that someone has your brother, though it doesn’t have to be Carmichael. But whoever it is,” he continued, overriding her when she started to speak, “he’s taken a fancy to your Daniel and taken him home for a spin. Your brother will turn up, a bit exhausted, no doubt. Maybe short a pint, but otherwise fine. You’ll see.”
Kathryn took a step back, putting more distance between her and Lucas. He was one of those people who touched easily, but his touches were too distracting. She couldn’t afford to let him do that to her.
“Why didn’t you tell me Carmichael’s first name, then?” she persisted.
Lucas gave her an impatient look. “Because I didn’t want you hunting him down if he was innocent. My people have been hunted and killed by humans as long as we’ve been alive, and for no reason but foolish superstition. If Alex is guilty, I’ll let you talk to him. But not until I know for sure.”
“How will you know?” she retorted. “I’m the only one looking for him.”
“Not true. I set my own people to tracking him down as soon as you left that night.”
“Did you find him?” she asked curiously.
“No. Although we know where he is.”
“And,” she said leadingly.
“He’s in Chicago, which means I can’t get to him.”
“It’s a short flight, Lucas, and you have a plane. So why not?”
Lucas’s face tightened unhappily. “Chicago is out of my jurisdiction.”
“Well, who rules it then? I’ll talk to him instead.”
“You will not,” Lucas said sharply, and his eyes were suddenly sparking gold fire as he stared at her.
Kathryn took another step back, nearly stumbling as the narrow heel of her shoe hit a small rock, and her ankle tried to turn. She caught herself, avoiding Lucas’s helping hand, and glanced down, irritated again that she’d bothered to wear this stupid outfit. Lucas hadn’t dressed up, or maybe he had, given the nature of the club. He was wearing all black, including leather pants, and okay, she needed to look somewhere else, because . . .
“Is that blood?” she demanded suddenly, her gaze flashing up to meet Lucas’s. “What the hell? First you’ve got Nicholas with half his face torn off, then those wild men invade the club all hyped up with what I’m told was some sort of post-conflict bloodlust—which thrilled everyone in there but me, apparently—and now you . . .” She took a longer look. “Your pants and boots are covered in blood.”
“It belongs to Nicholas—”
“Oh, no, it doesn’t. Not unless the two of you are way more familiar than I think you are.”
“For Christ’s sake, Kathryn,” Lucas snapped, his lovely Irish lilt becoming more pronounced as he grew more irritated with her.
“I want to know what’s going on, or I’m calling the authorities,” she insisted. “They may not give a damn about my missing brother, but they’re sure as hell going to care about what’s happening in that club.”
Lucas glowered down at her, his jaw flexing visibly. Suddenly he smiled, and Kathryn wanted to back up even farther.
“Very well, Kathryn,” he drawled. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. But not here in the parking lot.”
“My motel room, then,” she said, wishing she could yank back the words as soon as she said them. Her motel room? First, it was a dump. But second, she was inviting Lucas back to her motel room? Lucas of the sexy smile and tight leather pants? Was she out of her ever loving mind?
“Tempting, but I think not,” he said, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is there a quieter bar somewhere—” she began.
He laughed easily. “It’s late, and this is a small town, a cuisle. But I’ve a place in mind. We’ll take my truck.”
“I can drive—”
He shook his head. “The roads are dark, and you don’t know the way. My driver will take us.”
“But what about—”
“Do want answers or not?” he demanded with sharp impatience.
Kathryn sighed unhappily. “All right,” she agreed. “But how will I get back from wherever you’re taking me?”
“Worried I’m going to kidnap you?” he scoffed lightly. “Very well, I’ll send someone to bring your truck by later, so you can make your escape . . . should you desire.”
Kathryn eyed him distrustfully, but nodded. She didn’t know if it was important to her own investigation or not, but she wanted to know whose blood Lucas was wearing and what had happened to Nicholas’s face. That sure as hell hadn’t happened in a bar fight. She was also really curious about what secret dealings were going on with vampires in general. How many humans had been given a chance to peek behind that curtain? It was her curiosity that decided it. She’d go with him tonight and hear what he had to say. But tomorrow morning she was leaving for Minneapolis to continue her own investigation.
Lucas rested a loose hand against Kathryn’s lower back, escorting her over to the big Suburban, which was standard transport for dignitaries and vampire lords these days. It was black, naturally, and the windows were so darkly tinted they blended seamlessly with the metal all around them. Even the trim was a matte black, and since his vampires didn’t need headlights to see, there was nothing to give them away when they traveled through the night.
Nicholas opened the back door, and Lucas offered Kathryn a hand up, which she refused, of course. He smiled slightly as she grasped the grip bar instead, forced to turn slightly sidewise in order to take the step up in her black cocktail dress. And what an enticing cocktail dress it was, too. He would love to see her in that dress without those ugly leggings. He was only sorry the night had turned out as it had. But there was hope yet.
He followed Kathryn into the SUV, sliding over next to her on the bench seat. She stiffened slightly, then relaxed, as if her initial reaction had been automatic rather than intentional.
Nicholas climbed into the front seat next to Mason and waited for Lucas to tell them where they were going.
Lucas considered going back to the main house. It was comfortable and safe, and Kathryn knew it already, so she wouldn’t be suspicious. But there were too many people there. Too many phones, too many decisions needing his attention.
“The homestead,” Lucas said and felt Nicholas’s surprise ripple down their link. He didn’t comment, however. Neither did Mason. But then Mason wouldn’t. Only Nick was high enough in their hierarchy to occasionally question something Lucas did.
They cleared the town limits, and Mason switched off the headlights. As the town faded farther and farther behind them, the night grew darker. Mason turned away from the main highway, and Lucas was aware of Kathryn staring out the window intently, probably trying to keep track of where they were going. She was a control freak, but in this case, it was pointless. Even in daytime, there were few recognizable landmarks out here. And by the time they reached their destination, she would be totally lost.
