by Tina Folsom
Table of Contents
Title Page
Book Description
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright
Blake’s Pursuit
Scanguards Vampires #11
Tina Folsom
Book Description
Blake Bond, vampire and chief of hybrid security at Scanguards and Lilo Schroeder, a human, are thrown together when their mutual friend Hannah goes missing. As they unravel the mystery of Hannah’s disappearance, they uncover a dangerous plot by rogue vampires that may endanger the lives of all humans.
Not only do Blake and Lilo have to stay one step ahead of their foes, they must also fight their sizzling mutual attraction. For despite all of Lilo’s courage in the face of danger, there’s no telling how she will react once Blake reveals his true identity…
ALSO BY TINA
Scanguards Vampires
Phoenix Code Series with Lara Adrian
Out of Olympus
Venice Vampyr
Eternal Bachelors Club
Stealth Guardians
1
She shouldn’t have ignored the phone call.
Lilo stared out the window of the taxi as it made its way through rush hour traffic. Her flight from Omaha had been delayed due to heavy snow in Nebraska, and the plane had touched down in San Francisco well after sunset. Anxious, she tapped her fingers on the smooth leather of her handbag and replayed Hannah’s pleading message in her mind.
“Lilo, you have to call me back. I have nobody to talk to about this. I need your help. You always know what to do.”
A faint smile stole over her lips, and involuntarily she shook her head. Her best friend since high school had such confidence in her. As if she could fix anything. But what if she couldn’t fix this? What if it was already too late?
Hell, she didn’t even know what there was to fix. Hannah was gone. Vanished from the face of the earth.
Mrs. Bergdorf’s call the previous evening had confirmed it. “Hannah never called me for my birthday. Lilo, you know she always calls. She’s not answering her phone. I’m worried about her.”
And so was Lilo. Because despite all her faults, Hannah had always been a considerate daughter. If she hadn’t called her mother with birthday wishes, it meant she hadn’t been able to get to a phone. Had Hannah fallen ill and wasn’t aware of the important date she’d missed? It was unlikely that a flu or cold would make her so delirious that she’d forget her mother’s birthday. Perhaps Hannah had had an accident and was unable to communicate. But even if she’d been taken to a hospital, the hospital staff would have notified her mother and Lilo, too, because both were listed as Hannah’s emergency contacts. No, something was wrong. She could sense it: something terrible had happened to Hannah.
Guilt surged through Lilo. She’d been under deadline stress, having had difficulty finishing her latest mystery novel. Her editor had been breathing down her neck, so she’d hunkered down and shut out the outside world to finish the damn book. But at what cost? She’d broken her promise to Hannah, a promise they’d made in ninth grade: that they would always be there for each other. But instead of calling her friend to find out what was wrong, she’d finished her book so she wouldn’t miss her deadline.
Lilo sighed. What kind of friend did that? She’d heard the pleading tone in Hannah’s voice message when she’d called only a few days before her mother’s birthday. Hannah had sounded tense, worried. Lilo wished she hadn’t let the phone call go to voicemail and instead picked up and talked to her friend. What if Ronny, that no-good loser she was dating, had hurt her? Why else would Hannah say she couldn’t talk to anybody but Lilo? If only she knew more about Hannah and Ronny’s relationship, but her friend had been very tight-lipped about it, never revealing much about what Ronny did. As if she was ashamed of him in some way.
The only thing she knew was that Ronny was very possessive, and that was a trait Lilo had never liked in men. It was one reason why her relationships never lasted long. She needed to be independent, and trusting somebody didn’t come easily. Maybe her mystery writer brain had something to do with it. She simply knew the darkness of the human psyche, and was more aware than others what could lurk beneath the surface.
After Mrs. Bergdorf’s call, Lilo had booked the first flight out to San Francisco, determined to find Hannah and figure out what had happened. And she wouldn’t go home until she’d accomplished that task. She only hoped that she wouldn’t have bad news for Hannah’s mother when she did.
“This is it,” the cab driver said, as he came to a stop in front of a three-story apartment building. “Number 426.”
Hannah had raved about the neighborhood when she’d first moved in, but now, at night and with few streetlights to illuminate the area, Lilo couldn’t understand the attraction of this steep street in North Beach. She was only glad that the cab driver had stopped directly in front of the garage, so she wouldn’t have to haul her suitcase up the hill.
After paying for her ride, Lilo walked up to the front door. There were six door bells, one for each apartment. Bergdorf was written on one of the bells. She rang it. As she expected, there was no reply. But she wouldn’t let such a small obstacle stop her. She wasn’t a mystery writer for nothing. And she knew Hannah better than her own sister. After locking herself out of her new apartment and paying an exorbitant amount for a locksmith—a story that her friend had recounted in minute detail—Hannah had been determined never to get caught without a key again, and together they’d figured out the best hiding place for a spare.
Lilo let her eyes wander around the entrance. A bougainvillea snaked up one side of the wall along a trellis. It wasn’t in bloom. Even in San Francisco, where it was a balmy fifty degrees outside in early January, it wasn’t warm enough for the plant to flower. The leaves hid most of the wooden trellis, but Lilo knew what she was looking for: a brown string with a key tied to the end of it, blending perfectly into the wall. She pulled on it. The key emerged from its hiding place, a deep crack in the foundation, probably caused by an earthquake.
Key in hand, Lilo let herself into the building and found Hannah’s apartment on the first floor. She listened for sounds coming from inside the unit, but it was quiet. As she pushed the door open and stepped in, she crinkled her nose. It smelled of rotten food.
She flipped the light switch and closed the door behind her.
The place was nothing special, a one-bedroom apartment with a large living room, a separate kitchen and a small bathroom. Despite its size, Hannah’s touch was everywhere. The funky furniture and decorations from around the world were quintessential Hannah. This was her home.
Lilo shrugged off her coat and placed it over a chair, then walked to the open doorway from which the strong odor emanated. It was the kitchen. The under-the-counter light was on, and the cause of the smell was immediately evident: a half-eaten can of dog food sat on the kitchen counter. She glanced
around. There was another door, leading back into the small hallway that connected to the bathroom and bedroom on one end and the living room and front door on the other.
On the floor near the refrigerator stood two bowls, one filled with water, the other empty, but not clean. A dog had eaten from it recently. Frankenfurter.
“Frankenfurter?” she called out to Hannah’s terrier, but got no reply.
Lilo grabbed the spoiled can and tossed it in the trash, then opened the kitchen window to let in some fresh air, before returning to the living room.
Had Hannah fed the dog, then taken him for a walk and never come back? Or had she left in a hurry to get away from Ronny, taking Frankenfurter with her? What if Ronny had shown up at her apartment and fought with her? Hurt her or kidnapped her? What if he’d killed her, and removed her body…
She shuddered at the thought, looking around for signs of a struggle. But the place was tidy. A few magazines on the coffee table, a blanket on the couch, a chew-toy for the dog next to a chair. Nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly no blood stains on the carpet. She lifted one edge of the old rug. No blood stains underneath it either. She breathed a sigh of relief.
On the dining table, Hannah’s computer sat open. She touched the mouse to wake up the system, and a login screen appeared within seconds. But without knowing Hannah’s password, she couldn’t unlock the screen. She tried a few different combinations: Frankenfurter, Bergdorf, IloveMom, even her own name, but none of them worked. Clearly, her friend was too sophisticated to use a password that could easily be guessed by anybody with a passing knowledge of her.
If she wanted to find out what Hannah had been doing before she disappeared, she needed to get into her computer. She wanted to check her recent search history and her inbox to see if she’d received any worrisome emails. Either might provide a clue as to where she was. But first of all, she needed to go to the police to report her missing. And she would do that right after she’d taken a quick shower and gotten changed out of her thick clothes, which made her feel like she was in a sauna. Her skin was sticky, and she felt tired from the trip. A shower would revive her again and lend her the strength she needed to look for her friend.
2
Blake shoved his cell phone back into the pocket of his cargo pants as his long legs ate up the distance between his office and the conference room at the other end of the long corridor in Scanguards’ Mission headquarters. Despite the stress and the long hours that came with his job, he loved it. He loved being in charge of security for the hybrid children of some of the most powerful vampires on the west coast—even if it meant putting his own needs before theirs. When he’d been human, and much younger, he’d been a selfish and entitled trust fund baby. Now he was making up for it.
He nodded to Oliver, his de-facto brother, who was coming out of the elevator.
“You’re only now just rolling in?” Blake asked, grinning. “Trying for another baby?”
Oliver shook his dark, unruly mane. His hair wasn’t long, but thick and stood out in every direction. “One is enough, thank you very much. And if you could play uncle and take care of Sebastian for a few hours this week, so Ursula can get the house in order for her parents’ visit, I’d appreciate it.”
“Hey, your son practically lives at my place!” Or rather in Blake’s refrigerator, which he had trouble keeping stocked, given the amount of food the twelve-year-old could devour.
Oliver chuckled. “Shouldn’t have bought that big house. Now you’ll never get rid of the youngsters. Let’s face it, they’d all much rather hang out with you than with their parents.”
Blake smiled. “Only because I let them run wild.” He motioned to the conference room. “Zane and the rest of them are way too strict with their offspring. Too much discipline isn’t good. They need an outlet.”
Oliver smirked. “As I said, you’ll never get rid of them now.” He turned and sauntered in the other direction.
For a moment, Blake just stood there. He and Oliver hadn’t started off on the right foot, when they’d first met over twenty years earlier. But they’d been thrown together because they were kin: Quinn Ralston, Blake’s 4th great-grandfather, was Oliver’s sire, and they’d lived together under Quinn and Rose’s roof for several years. Rose, who wasn’t related to Oliver by blood, had borne Blake’s 3rd great-grandmother shortly before her turning, and thus ensured the survival of the Ralston clan.
Smiling to himself, he opened the door to the conference room and let himself in. Several members of the Scanguards management team were assembled around a large conference table. A speakerphone stood dead-center on the table.
“Sorry, running late,” he apologized to nobody in particular and sat down next to Amaury.
The linebacker-sized vampire with the shoulder-length dark hair and the piercing blue eyes acknowledged him with a sideways glance, pointing to the phone as he murmured, “Donnelly is giving us the weekly crime report. You haven’t missed anything.”
“What worries me, Samson,” Detective Donnelly was saying through the speakerphone, “is that there are way more robberies and home invasions than usual. Something is up.”
Samson, Scanguards’ founder, a tall vampire with sleek black hair and a chiseled face and physique, rested his elbows on the table and leaned a little closer to the speakerphone. “What do you want me to do, Mike? You know as well as I that Scanguards only gets involved in city business when it concerns infractions committed by vampires. That’s our deal. And from what you’re telling us, most of these crimes are committed during daylight.”
The implication was clear: the crimes couldn’t have been committed by vampires, who needed the cover of darkness to operate safely.
Zane grunted in agreement. Blake tossed him a quick glance. As usual, the bald vampire looked like he was ready to rip somebody’s head off. Zane’s eyes flickered down to his watch and then he pushed his chair back, nodding to Samson. “Flight’s in a few hours. Gotta get ready.”
Samson nodded back, and then exchanged a look with his second-in-command, Gabriel.
Gabriel shrugged indifferently, but the scar that marred the left side of his face ticked, a sure sign that he was affected by the matter. The scar stretched from his ear to his chin, a gruesome reminder of the emotional and physical pain he’d endured as a human.
“Come on, guys, the city compensates you handsomely for your consulting services,” Donnelly added now. “Just this once. Just have one of your guys look into it.”
Gabriel sighed and met Samson’s eyes directly. “How about John? Maybe he can check it out, determine whether there’s anything odd about these robberies? Won’t take him longer than a day or two, I reckon.”
Quinn, who’d been silent until now, ran a hand through his blond hair. He looked no older than mid-twenties, though he was close to two hundred years older than Blake. “I can pull John off patrol duty for a couple of nights, but I’ll need a replacement for him.”
“Take Grayson,” Samson agreed. “I’m sure he’ll be chomping at the bit.”
Gabriel chuckled. “You’re gonna let him go out there on his own?”
“You know my son as well as I do. He’s been badgering me for months to give him his own patrol. Maybe this is a good opportunity to see if he’s ready.”
“He’s twenty-one, it’s about time he pulled his weight!” Quinn interjected, laughing.
Amaury shook his head. “Wait until the twins find out. They’ll want their own patrol, too. You’re opening a big can of worms here.” Amaury’s twins Benjamin and Damian were twenty, only one year younger than Grayson, and absolute hellions.
“Don’t you trust your boys to do a good job?” Gabriel asked.
“It’s not Benjamin or Damian I’m worried about. Nina isn’t ready to let them go.”
Blake had to smile. Amaury’s blood-bonded mate was a force to be reckoned with. Though she was human, Amaury was putty in her hands. “You’ve gotta put your foot down, Amaury.”
; Quinn’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Too late for that. That comes from letting your mate wear the pants.”
Amaury grunted and shot Quinn a look. “Like you have any more control over your woman than I have over mine!”
Samson raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, guys, let’s get back to business.”
Blake glanced at his boss. Yeah, Samson was in exactly the same boat as the rest of the blood-bonded vampires: they were all dependent on their women, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
“So we got a deal?” Donnelly asked through the speakerphone.
“Yeah, we got a deal. I’ll have John call and coordinate with you. You get forty-eight hours. Then I’m pulling him off.”
“Okay. Thanks.” There was a soft rustling of papers, then Donnelly continued, “Can we go over the vampire case files now? I’ve got a few updates.”
“Go ahead,” Samson agreed.
There was a faint knock at the door, followed by a creak as it opened a sliver. Finn, a young employee of Vüber, one of Scanguards’ subsidiaries, popped his head in. Several heads turned to him.
“Sorry,” Finn apologized quickly, “but it’s important. Blake, a word.”
Blake rose. “Excuse me for a sec.” He walked outside, and eased the door shut behind him. “What’s going on?”