That was all he needed? Seemed pretty late to be coming into a bar after closing just for some information, but she continued to play along. “What can I help you with?”
“I am looking for an individual I knew a long time ago and with whom I wish to become reacquainted. He has been in your establishment recently.”
Mel tried not to wrinkle her nose at the formal way he spoke. Intellectual people pissed her off. “Yeah, so what’s his name?”
“Alfonso Serrano.”
Relieved, she shook her head. “Sorry, don’t know him.” She couldn’t wait to watch him walk out that door. One thing was certain—the damn lock would get double and triple-checked tonight.
But he didn’t head toward the door.
Instead, he advanced a step closer. Licked his lips. His penetrating gaze fell from her face to her shoulders.
No, wait. Her neck.
Instinctively, her hand flew to the collar of her shirt, and her heart rate skyrocketed. There was something terribly wrong about this man. He looked at her not as another person, but as something to devour. His eyes were dark. No color. Just pupils.
She backed up, but the counter stopped her from going farther.
She was trapped.
“You sure he’s been in here?” Her vocal cords strained tighter, making her voice higher than normal. “Maybe you’re thinking of the place across the street. The Pink Salon is a popular dance club. It’s trendy, edgy. Attracts all sorts of people. We mainly attract people who want to watch the games. I know the manager over there. I could call him and ask. Or you could just pop in. Unlike us, even though it’s after last call, they stay open for a while. It’s that neon-pink sign. See it?”
She pointed out the window, hoping he’d look in that direction so she could do something—anything—but he didn’t. He simply stared at her as if he wasn’t listening to a word she’d said.
Then he did something so strange that, even though she didn’t understand it, she was utterly horrified.
His eyes flickered closed and he lifted a hand to his face. Long, clawlike fingers drew her attention, and she unwillingly fixated on a small object dangling from a grotesquely thick fingernail. He sniffed at the tiny square, sucking it partially into his nostril. While holding his breath, he dropped his hand and cupped it to his chest like an actual priest cherishing a religious relic, concentrating. After a few long seconds while she wished she could look away, he exhaled, angled his nose up and inhaled again.
When he opened his eyes, they were meat-locker cold and viciously intense, reminding her of Hannibal Lecter.
Blood rushed away from her fingers and toes.
Her teeth chattered.
She had to pee.
“No,” he said. “I am certain he was here.”
He actually smelled the guy? Oh Lord, she had to get out of here. Maybe she could duck under the counter at the far end of the bar and lock herself in the back room. She’d call the police, hide behind the owner’s huge wooden desk and hope he couldn’t get through the door.
“What’s this fellow look like?” She asked, her asthma making it difficult to ramble. “Short, medium, tall? Blond, brunet, redhead? Jeans, suit, or—”
“Tall. Blond. With eyes like Paul Newman.”
She blinked. Wait a minute. Paul Newman–blue eyes? Could he be referring to that guy who was an awesome tipper?
“There was someone in here the other day who matches that description.”
Like a bored barn cat that suddenly spots a mouse behind the grain bin, the man’s eyes brightened. Had she made a terrible mistake admitting that? She’d do anything to make him stop staring at her. With his full attention, she’d never be able to make a run for it.
“Describe him for me.”
She gave him a lengthy description of the customer, down to his leather jacket and workman’s boots. As long as she talked, she was stalling whatever he was planning to do. “Oh, and he had a slight limp.”
“A limp?” His mouth curled up smugly as if it pleased him to know this. “Did you speak with this man?”
“Briefly. But he wasn’t really the talkative sort. Just sat right over there and drank his beer. He said maybe a dozen words to me. That’s it. Didn’t tell me his name and he…paid in cash.”
“Was he alone or—” his eyes glittered with excitement “—accompanied by someone else?”
“Alone.”
“Are you absolutely certain?”
He took a step closer, and at that moment, she decided her own welfare meant more to her than a stranger’s. “He was keeping tabs on a woman at the Pink Salon. Does that help?”
“I knew it,” the man said almost to himself. “I knew he was involved with someone. This is very good. Does the female work there?”
Female? Who talked like that, anyway? “I…uh…I’m not sure.” Then she remembered and blurted out, “I think she’s a cop.” Maybe the mention of the police would scare him off.
Instead of being surprised as she had hoped, his charcoal eyes glittered with amusement. He lifted his chin and laughed at the ceiling. “A law enforcement officer? Oh, what wonderful news. I must know more.”
He advanced closer. For some ungodly reason, her gaze fixated on his mouth. His teeth looked unusually long.
She felt light-headed. The room spun. His voice sounded distant.
“Tell me everything you know about him.”
When he reached for her, she was pretty sure she screamed, but it happened so fast that she couldn’t be sure. Given her asthma, she may have just wished she’d screamed.
His hands were smooth and cold, like a snake’s belly against her cheek. Obsidian eyes didn’t look in her face, but were trained slightly lower. Her skin tingled under his touch, and the ligaments in her knees suddenly felt nonexistent. She got the vague sense that she was talking—telling him something, but the words didn’t stick in her mind.
When he lowered his head to hers, she didn’t try to escape. At that point, she knew it was futile. In her mind, she saw images of the Discovery Channel—lions leaping at gazelles, crocodiles attacking zebras, snakes striking at rodents. Once the prey was caught, it didn’t struggle much.
But she did worry about Hogan. Who’d let him out when she didn’t return home?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“MOM, IS HE GOING to be all right?”
Lily’s mother tossed her latex gloves into the trash can outside the O.R. and turned toward her daughter. “Who?”
Oh for godsake. “Alfonso! Who did you think I meant?”
“Well, let’s see, I might have been thinking you were concerned about the Castile boy.”
Her mother knew damn well who she was asking about. Why did even the simplest question get a convoluted and roundabout answer from her? Yes, Kip was Lily’s responsibility. Yes, it was her fault that he’d gone missing. Yes, she should’ve found him earlier. But her mother didn’t need to provoke her like that.
“Mom, please. I care about Kip, but I’m asking you about Alfonso first.”
“Kip’s going to be fine. And so is Alfonso.” A huge weight lifted from her shoulders. “Come with me,” her mother continued. “They’re taking Alfonso to recovery.”
When they’d delivered Kip to the Region’s medical facility several hours ago, Lily’s mother had taken one look at Alfonso and admitted him as well. The medic must’ve alerted her last night about Alfonso’s condition. Maybe her mother could bully him into taking better care of himself.
Motioning with her hand, her mother headed down the hall, and Lily followed. When they got to the corner, her mother stopped to consult with a young man in green scrubs about another patient. The conversation was fast, but not fast enough. Lily wanted all the details on Alfonso’s condition.
“Very good then.” Her mother turned her attention back to Lily. “Turns out Alfonso’s injury yesterday was little more than a nick. It’ll heal, but it’s the old one I’m focused on now. I’m running a few tests to see the ext
ent of what I’m dealing with, but I’ve started the first regen treatment anyway. He’s going to be a little groggy.”
“And Kip?”
“He’ll be fine, too, although he’s going to be completely miserable for another few days.”
“What about Elisabeth, the human girl they brought in yesterday?”
“As soon as we finish this last transfusion, we’ll clear her mind of the ordeal and take her back home. She’ll be fine…for now.” They both knew this meant until she ran into another vampire, but it was the best they could do, other than keeping a tight rein on Darkblood activity.
Her mother stopped, her dark eyes narrowing, and she put her hands on Lily’s shoulders.
“This Alfonso—he means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
Lily nodded, not sure where her mother was going with this. Alfonso’s position as a double agent was a closely guarded secret within the Agency.
“How long have you felt this way about him?”
Lily shrugged. “For a while.”
“Then is he why you left Steven?”
Horrified, Lily pushed herself away. She’d have expected that comment from her father, but not her mother. Her dad still hadn’t forgiven for breaking up with her ex. Both times. Right after Zoe was born when she caught him cheating and again a few months ago. Her father had said it was her duty—God, that pissed her off—her damn duty to stay with him because they’d conceived a child together. Marrying for love had never been a necessity in their culture, but producing offspring was. She’d thought her mother was less old-fashioned than that.
“I left Steven because he’s a jerk, not because I was cheating on him. He’s the one who screwed around on me, if you want to know the truth. Besides, I’ve known Alfonso much longer than I’ve known Steven, and Alfonso is nothing like Steven. Nothing.”
“I’m not saying you should’ve stayed with Steven, honey. I was curious, that’s all. Alfonso seems nice and quite…taken by you. I like him. So…do the two of you work together often?”
Okay, that was a little better. The wind slowly, but not entirely, slipped from her sails. She was used to her mother’s prying questions. Lily’s being a single mother seemed to give everyone the license to ask about her love life, concerned that she needed a man and that her daughter needed a male role model.
“Um, not really. Not now. He was just helping out with this assignment.”
They continued down the corridor again.
“Is he new to the Seattle field office? I’ve not seen him around before.”
She really didn’t want to get into any of these details. The less her mother knew, the better. No use giving her anything more to worry about. “He’s not with the field office.”
“Is he from one of the other Regions?”
How was she to answer that? Then she remembered the cover story Alfonso told other people. “He owns a private security firm and was doing some contract work up here.” Her mother started to ask another question, but Lily interrupted her. “Mom, please. It’s classified, so I really can’t say much else.”
Her mother glanced away, looked hurt. “Fine. I’ve been privy to many Agency operations, but if you don’t want me to know more, that’s fine.”
“It’s not that,” she lied. What she had with Alfonso was too raw, too emotional to share. If she did tell her mother how much Alfonso had once meant to her, she’d get the twenty zillion questions about him every time they talked. And since he probably wasn’t going to be in the area for much longer, it would make dealing with her mother a little easier. Plus, their history was so convoluted that trying to explain everything would only emphasize her inability to sustain a relationship. “It truly is classified. I can’t say anything about what sort of work he does for the Agency. You can ask Santiago. He’ll back me on this.”
“No, that’s fine,” her mother said. “I’m not going above your head. It was just a simple question that I thought would get a simple answer. Speaking of Steven, did you know he’s coming up for Zoe’s recital?”
“Oh great.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Just the person I’m dying to see.”
“Come on. He’s not here that often. You can at least be civil.”
“Yeah, he’s not here often because he’s a crappy father and couldn’t give a sh—crap about his own daughter and what she has going on in her life.” Her mother hated her bad language, so she tried to control her mouth when she was up here.
“He’s not winning any father-of-the-year awards, that’s for sure, but at least he’s here. He’s trying. You can at least try to be cordial with him. For Zoe’s sake.”
“I’ll be nice to him, but I don’t have to like it.” That sounded childish, but she didn’t care. She had a right to be immature when talking with her mother.
“So, you’ve known Alfonso for quite a while?”
“Yep.”
“He’s not the one you used to talk to your grandmother about, is he?”
Lily shot her a surprised look. Her conversations with her grandmother were private. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But she recalled those long talks she’d had with her grandmother when her grandfather was dying. Lily would sit with her at his bedside, hold her frail, thin-skinned hand, look into her faded eyes that had seen and experienced so much and listen to stories of how her grandparents had met and fallen in love centuries ago. A very private person, her grandmother had told Lily things she’d never shared with anyone else.
“We are Enlazado por la Sangre,” her grandmother would say. “Joined body, soul and spirit. When he dies, I die, for I cannot bear to walk this earth without him.”
It was an uncommon bond between vampire couples who were connected through blood on a much deeper level than most, able to sense the thoughts or emotions of the other person. Lily felt honored that her grandmother had told her about it. Unlike her own parents’ businesslike marriage. When Lily witnessed her grandmother’s deep love for her husband, especially when he was dying, Lily had told her about meeting Alfonso, this amazing man whom she’d felt so unusually close to, rather than telling her mom. Although she couldn’t read Alfonso’s thoughts, she did feel connected to him on a more emotional level sometimes, and because they had the ability to share energies, an unusual trait in its own right, the starry-eyed romantic in her dreamed she and Alfonso were Enlazado por la Sangre as well.
Just like her grandparents were.
Which was why, when he’d left her, she had felt as if she were going a little bit crazy.
“I know the two of you became very close before she died, and I did overhear you telling her once about someone special you’d met.”
“You listened in on us?” Lily’s face heated up.
“No, that’s all I heard.” Her mother readjusted the stethoscope around her neck. “Although I suppose I was a little jealous that you seemed to have a closer relationship with my own mother than what I had with you or with her. That’s all. Relax, I didn’t listen in. I was walking into the hospital room to check on Daddy when I heard just the briefest mention about someone you’d met. I left immediately because I knew it was a private conversation between the two of you. If you wanted me to know, you’d have told me.”
Lily relaxed, although she felt guilty that she hadn’t shared any of this with her. Her mother was many things, most of them wonderful, some of them annoying, but a liar was not one of them.
She hadn’t realized her mother felt that way about the relationship she had with her grandmother. She hooked her arm into the crook of her mother’s arm, suddenly needing to tell her a little about Alfonso. “We…ah…have the ability to share energy. Although I’d love it for things to work out between us, I’m afraid that’s not possible. You know. His work and everything.”
They stopped outside a patient room. Her mother smiled, brushed the hair back from Lily’s face as if she were still a small child. The color of her eyes reminded Lily of stuffed animals, hot chocolate with a dollo
p of ice cream, and electric blankets on a chilly night. Comforting and perfect.
“He’s inside. The structure of that joint is really fragile at the moment. If he heals as quickly as I’m hoping, I’ll get him started on some physical therapy tomorrow. But first, in order for that to happen—” her mother gave her a pointed look “—his body will be needing blood…and energies.”
Lily stiffened. It was one thing for her to bring up the topic of sex to her mother, but not the other way around. “Mom, are you saying…?”
“Love is not something you should let slip through your fingers, Lily. You need to grab on to it while you can. He needs what only you can give him. Now, go.”
UNSURE OF WHERE HE WAS or how much time had passed, Alfonso’s recollection of hushed whispers and the stab of needles faded with the here-and-now sensation of soft female flesh under his hands.
Long, silky hair tickled his face and chest. The smell of lavender gave him a vague sense of numbness, making his body function on rote memory. His mouth sought out and found an aroused nipple, and he circled his tongue around the tender nub. Even if she hadn’t made that soft gasp of surprise, he knew it was Lily who straddled him. He’d recognize her body by feel alone.
Cool fingers cupped his balls, gently stroking, massaging. A singular, primal need—like the instinct for food or water—suddenly became his driving focus.
But before he could roll her over, those same fingers gripped the base of his erection. Then, with minimal effort on his part, a tight sheath of warmth slid down over his cock, sending shock waves through his body. He groaned, arched his head back into the pillow as every nerve tingled with pleasure.
“My God, woman, what are you doing to me?” His words were slurred, but he was too consumed by this glorious sensation to wonder why.
“I need to be on top because of your knee. Just lie back and enjoy it. I fed from a human while you were being treated—both blood and energy—and I’m transferring it to you. That nick of yours turned out to be a little more serious.”
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