“You never married?”
She glanced at him. “That’s kind of personal.”
“So is calling a guy you don’t know to come to your uncle’s murder scene, then his funeral.”
She thought for a moment and then went on. “I came close once. He called it off the day before the wedding and married my best friend a couple of months later.” She pointed to the cup at his feet. “You going to drink that?”
He handed it to her.
“So how did Donato, king of the family, end up here, sleeping in your spare room?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He got old. His health really started declining. His wife was dead, no children. He and my dad didn’t talk much, but about six months ago Uncle Donato started calling, talking to my dad. My dad felt bad for him and invited him to live with us.”
Liam leaned back on the step. “Okay, back to this import business. I hate to rely on stereotypes, but an Italian family, in the import business. Was your uncle connected to the mob?”
“No.” She exhaled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. There was talk over the years among my cousins. But families always talk about the guy who makes something of himself, don’t they? It’s jealousy.”
Liam could tell she wasn’t done, so he kept quiet.
“I’m not naive enough to think Uncle Donato was squeaky clean. He served some jail time when I was young, but that was for tax evasion or something like that.” She shrugged. “He was a nice old man, Liam. A gentleman. He was never anything but kind to me. He used to send me birthday gifts when I was a kid. And once he moved in, he insisted on paying a share of the living expenses. He didn’t want to be a burden to my father or me.”
“So he had money?” Liam pressed.
“Not really.” She thought for a minute. “I guess I don’t really know. He cashed his Social Security check every month and insisted my dad take part of it to pay the household bills. My dad gave it to me. Beyond that, I don’t know what he had. I guess we’ll find out.”
Liam sat in silence for a moment, then got up and walked down the steps.
Mai got to her feet. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Why?” She followed him down the sidewalk, the bottle of rum in her hand. “You said you would help me.”
“You said you’d tell me the truth.” He didn’t stop until he reached his motorcycle. “The whole truth.”
“But I am telling—” She broke off before finishing her sentence.
Liam mounted his bike, but he didn’t start it. He waited.
She wasn’t silent all that long. “A couple of weeks ago, the phone rang. Uncle Donato answered it. He argued with whoever it was. When he got off, I asked him who had called. First, he tried to tell me it was a wrong number. When I told him I heard him talking, he said it was some guy he used to know. The guy had just gotten out of prison and had tracked Uncle Donato down, looking for a favor. Uncle Donato said he told him no.”
“This guy have a name?”
“He wouldn’t tell me his name.”
“And you didn’t overhear anything that might help you figure out who it was?”
“No. Well . . .” She gave a humorless laugh. “I could have sworn Uncle Donato referred to him as the Weasel, but I was listening in on the conversation from another room. He could have just called him a weasel. Uncle Donato had a colorful vocabulary when he got angry.”
Liam crossed his arms over his chest, thinking. “You ask your dad if he knew anything about who this guy was?”
“I asked. Dad said he didn’t know a thing about it. When I asked him if he would ask Uncle Donato, he said he’d get information easier out of Prince.” She rolled her eyes. Then she unscrewed the cap on the bottle of rum and took a drink.
“Hey, easy there.” Liam grabbed the bottle from her and took a drink himself before putting the lid on and slipping it inside his coat.
“Please help me, Liam,” she said, grasping his arm. “I need help. I need your help.”
“Not me,” he said. “I’m not your guy.”
“You’re the guy. I don’t know why, but I’m sure of it.” She looked into his eyes, her eyes pleading. She was so close, he couldn’t smell just her shampoo, but the scent of her skin. She wore no perfume. It was her HF scent that made him light-headed.
The thing that made sense was to take off on his bike. The thing that did not make sense was to kiss her.
But he was already under her spell. There was no turning back, not if his soul had depended upon it. Which was a possibility. “This is a bad idea,” he whispered.
She leaned closer, until her lips were almost on his. “I know.”
“You’ve had a long day. A long week. A bad week.”
She closed her eyes. “So make it a little better.”
Liam slid his hand around her neck until his thumb was on her pulse. With his other hand, he stroked her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers. The first touch was gentle, cautious. She still had a chance to walk away. He still had the chance.
Then the kiss deepened. Liam’s heart pounded as he tasted the rum on her lips. Her cherry ChapStick. She tasted sweet and forbidden. There was something about her mouth that was filled with promise, a promise of a brief moment of happiness, the kind that had been just out of his grasp for centuries.
Just one kiss, he told himself. Two. But by the third kiss, he didn’t just want to kiss her. He wanted to make love to her. And not just make love to her, because for a vampire, it never stopped there. Liam wanted to possess her. To drink of her. He wanted to taste her blood.
Liam tightened his arms around Mai. Somehow she had ended up on the bike in front of him. It was definitely make-out by mutual consent. She slipped one hand under his jacket as their tongues met. Intertwined.
“Excuse me.”
Somewhere in the back of his head, Liam heard a voice.
The voice cleared its throat. “Excuse me. Sorry. Mai?”
Mai flew out of Liam’s arms like she was on fire. “Babbo.” She was breathing hard. You wouldn’t think an Asian girl could blush, but she was definitely blushing.
“I was wondering.” Corrato held the rat terrier under his arm. If he noticed his daughter was making out with a man she barely knew, he didn’t let on. He was wearing his suit jacket again, and a wool porkpie hat. He was obviously on the move. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but it’s time for Prince’s dinner. I need to go home.”
Mai glanced at Liam, then back at her father. She wiped her mouth with her hand. As if she could take away the heat. The same heat he still felt on his own lips.
“I bet Suzy’s got dog food,” she suggested, her voice breathy. “Maybe you could borrow some of hers?”
Her father shook his head. “He eats special dog food. Other stuff, it gives him the runs. I need Prince’s special dog food. I need to go home now.” His voice quivered on the last word.
“Babbo, I’m not sure we’re going home tonight. Suzy offered to let us stay the night and—”
“We can walk.” With that, Corrato turned in his worn Italian leather loafers and headed down the sidewalk. It was almost dark, and he made a striking sight on the street, a distinguished old man in his suit and hat, carrying his dog.
“Babbo, no, wait.” She went after him, looking back at Liam. “When he gets like this, there’s no changing his mind. Maybe you could ride over with us? I don’t know that we should go alone.”
Liam rested his hands on the handlebars of the motorcycle. His heart was still pounding, though not quite as fast. He could still taste her human lips on his. The nectar of life. Turn the key, shift, hit the gas—that was all he had to do to be out of there. In the clear.
“I can ride over with you,” Liam heard himself say. “You can get some things, the dog food, then you can come back here.”
“You hear that, Babbo?” She hurried to catch up with him. “Liam will ride over with us.” She looped her arm through his.
“Come on, Babbo. You’re not walking. It’s ten miles.” She steered him back toward Liam.
“I don’t understand why I can’t sleep in my own bed,” he said, looking at Liam instead of his daughter.
“I told you,” she said quietly. “I’m upset. Suzy offered and I took her up on it.”
“You think they’re coming?”
Mai halted, looking up at him, her arm still looped through his.
Liam watched carefully.
“Who, Babbo?”
“The men who offed Donato.” Working his jaw, he held his dog tightly to his chest. “Men like that, they can’t be trusted. They kill men. They kill dogs. It’s probably better we don’t sleep at home tonight. I’m worried about Prince.”
Liam studied the old guy’s face. He sounded not quite right in the head, but there was something in his eyes . . . something that made Liam think he might be just playing with them.
“I’ll just run in and tell Suzy we’re going,” Mai said after a second.
Liam got off the bike. “I’ll drive your car, leave my bike here.” He wasn’t sure how much she’d had to drink.
“I’ll be right out,” Mai called, going up the sidewalk to her cousin’s house. “Babbo, get in the van.”
“Shotgun,” the old man hollered.
Liam knew something was wrong before Mai slipped her key into the lock of the back door. He laid his hand on hers. “Let me do that.”
She froze and looked up at him. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure.” He glanced over his shoulder at Corrato. The old man waited on the brick walk behind them while his dog nosed around in the grass, looking for a place to do his business. Liam never understood this thing humans had for pets. Maybe because as a shape-shifter, he could technically be one.
“Let me go in first.” Liam turned the key in the lock, wishing he’d brought a gun with him. He rarely used one; he preferred his own hands, or teeth. In official assignments for the sept, a ceremonial knife was required. There were rules, as he was frequently reminded. But he would have felt better walking into this situation with a good old-fashioned 9mm Glock tucked into the waistband of his waiter pants.
The first thing he saw inside the back door were the clothes from the dryer lying on the floor. Then a puddle and a laundry detergent bottle, lying uncapped on the tile.
Mai flipped on the light. “What the hell?”
If he’d been suspicious in the laundry room, the kitchen left no doubt. Cabinet doors had been left open; dishes lay broken on the floor. Even the refrigerator and freezer had been emptied. Obviously someone was looking for something.
“Oh, God,” Mai murmured, bringing her hands to her mouth.
“Shhh,” Liam said, listening carefully. Like any vampire, his senses were more acute than those of humans. He didn’t hear anyone in the house. He didn’t smell anyone, but he wanted to be sure. After a second, he held his hand out to her. “Stay right here. I’ll be back in a second.”
Liam covered the first floor, then went up to the second; he didn’t bother to turn on the lights. He didn’t need them. His vision in the dark was as good as his vision in broad daylight, maybe better because he could see shades of heat or the absence of it. The entire house was strewn with Mai’s and Corrato’s possessions. Furniture had been tipped over, cushions pulled off the couch and chairs. They’d been relatively thorough.
The last room he entered was Mai’s bedroom, upstairs. He didn’t need to see the floral sheets on the bed or the perfume bottles knocked over on the bathroom sink to know it was her room. It smelled like her. Next to the bed, Liam paused and closed his eyes. Images of her naked, in his arms, in the bed, flashed in his head. He felt the weight of her bare breast in his hand, the taste of a taut nipple, the scent of the sweet, moist place between her thighs.
His eyes flew open. He really needed to get laid. He needed to find a nice, willing vampire girl and get this out of his system.
“Liam?”
He heard her call him from the bottom of the steps. “Are you okay? I think they’re gone. They’re gone, aren’t they?” she asked.
He left her room, walking to the head of the stairs. The carved oak banister that ran down the length of the stairs was polished and smelled of linseed oil. “What are they looking for, Mai?”
“I don’t know.” She threw open her arms. “I swear I don’t.”
“I guess there’s no way you would know if anything was missing.”
She looked at him as if he was an idiot.
“All right. You should get your things. Some clothes, some toiletries,” he suggested. “A few days’ worth. Your father, too.”
“Babbo!” she called over her shoulder. “Be careful. Don’t trip over the seat cushions.” She grabbed one off the floor at the foot of the stairs and flung it carelessly into the living room. They had all been ripped open, leaving tufts of stuffing all over the floor.
“Bastards,” the old man muttered.
“Babbo!”
“They spilled Prince’s dog food in the kitchen. You see what a mess they made? As if a man would hide anything in dog food.” He passed Mai and slowly made his way up the stairs.
“Mr. Ricci,” Liam said when he reached the top, “you have any idea what whoever did this might be looking for?”
“Nope.” He brushed past Liam, going into his room.
“I’ll be quick,” Mai said, running up the steps. As she passed Liam, she drew her fingertips across his abdomen. It was an innocent gesture, but it set his skin on fire. Slowly, he walked down the steps. He surveyed one room after the other and decided after a couple of minutes that whoever had been there hadn’t really been all that thorough. No holes in the walls, no ceiling tiles removed, and no wooden floorboards jimmied up. So they weren’t absolutely sure whatever they were looking for was even there. . . .
Liam went out to Mai’s shop next. The back door was standing open. The shop has been searched, too, but whoever did it hadn’t made nearly the mess they had in the house. Liam locked the door and returned to the house.
As Liam entered the living room, Corrato came down the stairs carrying two plastic grocery bags, one in each hand, and a rattan dog bed under his arm.
“Babbo, I left a suitcase for you in the hall,” Mai called from the top of the steps.
“Don’t need a suitcase, got bags,” he muttered.
“You have to leave the dog bed.”
“Prince likes his bed,” Corrato insisted stubbornly.
“Prince can sleep with you at Suzy’s. We’ll only be there a night or two. You have to leave the bed.”
At the bottom of the steps, he reluctantly set down the dog bed. Then he headed for the kitchen. “Prince, come, boy. Prince, want a treat?”
Liam glanced over his shoulder, then took the steps two at a time. He found Mai in her bedroom, pulling a T-shirt over her head. She had taken off her bra and he caught a flash of breast as she spun around.
“Sorry,” he said instantly. “I didn’t mean to just walk in on you.” But he didn’t look away.
And Mai didn’t turn away as she slipped the shirt over her nakedness. “I needed to get out of that dress. The under-wire in my bra was killing me.” She pulled two more T-shirts out of a drawer and left it open. “Can you grab that gray sweatshirt for me off the back of the door?”
Not trusting himself to get close to her just this second, he tossed it to her. Her bed was unmade and way too inviting.
She pulled the hoodie over her head and her gaze met his, as she pulled her long, dark hair free. She was thinking about the bed, too. About making love to him. Liam wasn’t a mind reader like Kaleigh. He didn’t have to be, in this case.
She took a step toward him, still gazing into his eyes. He knew that look. One kiss and she was his, right here, right now. It was the vampire thing; humans couldn’t resist them.
“Mai!”
Corrato unintentionally saved Liam yet again. “Mai! Mai, he’s gone. They took him.�
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Mai walked past Liam to stick her head out the doorway. “Who’s gone?” she hollered back.
“Prince.” The old man’s voice cracked with emotion. “They kidnapped the Prince of Dogs.”
Chapter 6
“Babbo, it’s okay. We’ll find him.” Mai went down the steps.
Liam grabbed the duffle bag she had packed and followed her. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” she assured her father.
“No. He wouldn’t run away,” Corrato insisted, his eyes tearing up.
Liam felt a tightness in his chest and glanced away in embarrassment. He was a vampire. He wasn’t human. He had to remind himself sometimes that that meant he didn’t have the same feelings as humans. He didn’t really care if this man he didn’t know was missing a dog. Liam didn’t even particularly like the dog.
“Did you leave the back door open? Maybe he’s just in the yard waiting for you. You leave it open sometimes.” Mai rubbed Corrato’s shoulder as she walked past him, headed for the kitchen.
“That was Donato. I told him not to leave the door open. I told him Prince would get out and get hit by a car.”
Mai picked her way through the mess in the kitchen. In the laundry room, she stopped at the open back door. “Uncle Donato didn’t leave the back door open this time, Babbo,” she said gently.
“He’s not out there. I called him.” Corrato shuffled after his daughter. The porch lamp cast a net of light over the grass.
No dog.
“Prince! Prince, come on, boy,” Mai called, clapping her hands. Then she tried whistling. A dog down the street barked, but it was too big a bark to belong to the terrier.
Corrato clamped his hat on his head and headed down the brick sidewalk toward the driveway where the van was parked.
Ravenous Page 5