Susan escorted the man out front when the job was finished. Then, with a smile and a wave, she retreated indoors.
The locksmith climbed into his van and guided it slowly down the gravel driveway.
Clenching his teeth, Stanislav sped through the brush at inhuman speed, passed the van, and stopped where the long, winding driveway met a narrow blacktop road. He growled as pain struck him like a sledgehammer. Several colorful epithets spewed forth in a whisper as he tucked a hand in one pocket and fished out the dark sunglasses he’d found in the kitchen. No way would he be able to keep his eyes from glowing.
The van approached and slowed to a stop.
Stepping onto the gravel driveway behind it, Stanislav jogged around to the driver’s side, grateful for the shade the old oaks that touched each other overhead provided. “Hey!” he called in his best approximation of an American accent. “Hey, hold up a minute!”
A look of surprise lit the locksmith’s features as Stanislav stopped just outside the man’s window, then bent forward and braced his hands on his knees as if he had run to catch up and was now winded.
The portly man rolled down his window. “Can I help you?”
Nodding, Stanislav straightened.
The locksmith’s eyes widened. “Hey, man, are you okay?”
Stanislav bit back a curse. Right. He’d been so focused on his eyes that he’d forgotten his face was all cut up. Offering the locksmith a friendly smile, he waved a hand in dismissal. “Yeah. I was in a car accident a few days ago. Some dumbass ran a red light and T-boned me. But it looks a lot worse than it feels.” Not really. “I’m Susan’s husband, Stan. I was sleeping when you arrived. Susan’s been worried about me since the accident, so she didn’t wake me. But I wanted to ask you about another job.”
The prospect of putting more money in his pocket brought a smile to the locksmith’s face. “Sure. Sure. What kind of job?”
“The inner doors throughout the house could really use some new hardware. A couple of them lock automatically when we close them. Another won’t close at all. It’s a real pain in the ass. Would you be interested in taking care of that for us, maybe in another month or two?”
The man smiled and nodded. “Sure. I can do that. What’d you say your name was again?”
He offered his hand. “Stan. Nice to meet you.”
The locksmith clasped his hand and gave it a hearty shake. “Devlin. Good to meet you.”
Before the man could withdraw his hand, Stanislav shoved the sleeve of his blue uniform shirt up, bent his head, and sank his fangs into the man’s arm.
The locksmith emitted a yelp of surprise and struggled briefly before his muscles relaxed as his eyelids drooped.
Stanislav closed his eyes as his fangs siphoned blood into his parched veins. Some of the cursed weakness that beset him eased a bit. This was what he needed to eradicate his injuries and restore his strength. A deep healing sleep was far less effective when not accompanied by infusions. If he could do this again when the security man came later, Stanislav would be nearly whole again on the morrow. His internal injuries would heal as the day progressed, his broken ribs weaving back together, his not-fully-healed broken limbs growing strong again, bruised organs becoming like new.
If he could manage a second infusion, the next deep healing sleep should repair his exterior wounds as well—every cut, gash and puncture.
He frowned. At least he thought it would. He wasn’t sure about his weight though. Or his strength. He had a sinking feeling that might require more than two infusions to correct.
He took as much as he dared from the locksmith, then retracted his fangs, rolled the man’s sleeve down, and slipped his arm through the window. The locksmith’s head lolled as he sank into unconsciousness.
“Thank you,” Stanislav murmured. Reaching through the window, he found the key in the ignition and turned off the engine. When the locksmith woke, he would remember nothing of what had happened.
Stepping back from the van, Stanislav brushed his fingers across his lips to ensure they were clean and wondered once more why he knew things like that but couldn’t remember his damned past.
The new blood coursing through his veins began to relieve the pain that racked him as he removed the sunglasses, ducked back into the brush, and headed for the house. His shoulders straightened. His stride lengthened.
Better.
After circling around to the back of the two-story house, he meandered along the path of dappled shade the large oaks and pecan trees in the backyard provided.
Susan stepped out onto the back porch. The furrow in her brow vanished when she saw him. “There you are. I was worried when you didn’t come inside after he left.”
He smiled. “I thought I would wait a minute or two in case he returned. Did you hear anything suspicious in his thoughts?”
“Not a thing.”
He had suspected as much. “When will the security man come?”
“He’s supposed to be here between three and six.”
“Good. I’ll do the same when he arrives.”
Susan clipped Jax’s leash onto his collar and headed out the front door. She had let him out without the leash only once since moving into their new home. She had been curious to see what he’d do with so many scents floating on his new turf and had ended up spending the next four hours panicking after he took off running and disappeared.
Never again.
The boards on the front porch creaked as she crossed it, then followed Jax down the steps. Bending, she plucked a couple of weeds as she strode down the brick walkway. She wouldn’t be able to devote any time to the landscaping out front until her next book released in May, so she uprooted a couple of weeds every day in a weak attempt at short-term improvement.
Jax barked and wagged his tail as he trotted forward, tugging at the leash, sniffing everything in sight.
She grinned. He really loved it here.
He led her down the long winding driveway, veering off course a couple of times to chase a squirrel. The two of them had made a habit of checking the mail together every day, so he knew where she wanted him to take her.
As they rounded a bend, she stopped short.
The locksmith’s van was parked at the end of the driveway.
She frowned. He had left two hours ago. What was he still doing in her driveway?
She listened for his thoughts, but heard nothing.
Was he even in the van? If not, where was he? What was he doing?
Had Stanislav been right?
She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she should call him.
Better to be safe than sorry, she decided uneasily. Stanislav? she called mentally.
Yes? he immediately responded, unperturbed in the least by her speaking to him in his head. He really was comfortable around telepaths, something that continued to astound her.
Jax and I walked down to check the mail, and the locksmith’s van is parked at the end of the driveway. I can’t hear his thoughts, so I’m not sure he’s still in it.
What she guessed was a Russian swear word burst through his mind. Back away into the trees and wait for me. I’m on my way.
She did as advised, guiding Jax into the brush and letting the overgrown weeds and untrimmed trees swallow them.
A hand touched her shoulder.
Emitting a squeak of surprise, she spun around.
Stanislav stood behind her. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She gaped up at him. “How did you get here so fast?” She’d never measured it, but it was a long driveway. Long enough that you couldn’t see the house from the road.
He shrugged. “I ran.”
Faster than a track star and without making a single sound? she wondered incredulously.
He started to ease around her. “Stay here.”
She grabbed his arm. “No way. I’m coming with you.”
He looked as though he wanted to protest but thought bette
r of it and nodded. “When we find him, use your gift to let me hear his thoughts.”
“I don’t know how to do that. I mean, I can listen to them myself. But I don’t know how to let you hear them, too.”
He patted her hand where it rested on his arm. “Just hold on to me. You’re broadcasting pretty loudly right now. So I’ll hear whatever you hear when you peek into his mind.”
Really? That was so cool.
His lips twitched.
She grinned. “I am broadcasting loudly, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
Her nerves jangled as she looked toward the van.
Stanislav leaned down and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Susan nodded, her heart stuttering a bit. She liked the feel of his hand on hers. His lips touching her hair. The casual gestures of affection. It made her feel like a teenager in the grips of a first crush.
Glancing down at her, he smiled.
“Damn it,” she hissed. “I just broadcast that, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Well, forget you heard it.”
He returned his attention to the van. “Not likely.” Palming a knife, he shifted his hand to keep the weapon out of sight and strode forward.
Susan stuck close to him, squeezing the hell out of his arm, but he offered no protest.
He approached the vehicle with caution.
Susan could discern no movement within and still could hear no thoughts.
She and Stanislav continued forward until they reached the driver’s side door, then peered through the open window.
The locksmith was slumped in his seat, head back, mouth open, soft snores pouring forth.
Stanislav smiled. “Looks like he’s having a little nap.”
And not dreaming, apparently, or she would’ve picked up on it.
Stanislav rapped his knuckles on the car door.
The locksmith jerked awake with a snort. Blinking, he stared blankly through the front windshield, then turned toward them. “What?”
“Everything okay?” Stanislav asked.
“What do you mean? What’s uh…?” He blinked owlishly and peered around him. What the hell? “What’s goin’ on?” Where the hell am I?
Susan glanced at Stanislav to see if he was catching the locksmith’s thoughts.
He dipped his chin in a slight nod. “I was about to ask you the same,” he told the man. “You came out to replace the locks on our house and left two hours ago. We were coming down to collect the mail, saw you parked here, and thought we should check to make sure you’re okay.”
What? I changed the locks on their house? And what’s up with that guy’s face? Why is it all cut up like that?
Stanislav arched a brow. “Everything okay?”
Ah shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. “Yeah,” the man mumbled, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, sure.” The woman looks familiar. “I, uh…” Right. She said she just bought the house and I came out to change the locks. I remember her opening the front door after I stepped up onto her creaky porch. But everything after that is a blank. “Um…” Damn it! What the hell was in that weed I smoked last night? I told Jimmy I just wanted to mellow out, but that asshole must have laced it with something stronger. That fucker is into everything.
Susan barely managed to hold back a laugh.
The corners of Stanislav’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Long weekend?” he asked, his tone sympathetic.
The locksmith mustered up a wry smile. “Yeah. Too long. Hey, thanks for waking me.”
“No problem.” Stanislav stepped back, taking Susan with him. “Have a good one.”
Susan nodded. “Thanks again for changing the locks.”
“Anytime.” The man started the van and drove away.
Susan laughed as she looked up at Stanislav. “I don’t know who Jimmy is, but I have a feeling he’s going to get an earful tonight.”
“I think you’re right.” His face bright with amusement, Stanislav crossed to the mailbox and retrieved several envelopes. When he returned, he took her free hand in his and twined their fingers together.
They strolled up the driveway, Stanislav steering her out of the hot midday sun and through patches of heavy shade.
Warmth filled her as she studied his profile.
He stood straighter now and moved less stiffly. The lines of pain in his features had softened a bit.
Glancing down, he caught her staring. “What?” he asked with an appealing smile.
She shrugged. “You look better.”
He winked. “Perhaps I’ve been smoking some of the locksmith’s weed.”
She laughed.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice softening, “for doing as I asked and waiting for me instead of confronting the locksmith yourself.”
She paused to let Jax investigate a rustling sound off to their right. “Well, you seem to know what you’re doing. And I feel safer with you at my side.”
A squirrel raced up the closest tree, Jax nipping at its heels.
Stanislav raised their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. “I meant what I said, you know. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Susan,” he vowed.
Her skin tingled where his soft lips brushed it, heat zinging up her arm. She met his gaze… and gasped.
“What?” he asked.
“Your eyes. I just realized they aren’t glowing anymore.” The amber glow had receded, leaving chestnut irises.
His eyebrows rose. “They aren’t?”
“No. Now they’re a deep, beautiful brown.” She winked. “Must have been really good weed.”
He laughed.
Jax trotted back onto the driveway, happy to have terrorized another furry friend.
It was a nice moment in time. Peaceful. Her hand so natural in his.
As they headed around a curve, she saw Stanislav glance back in the direction the van had driven.
Chapter Six
The security guy, who introduced himself as Henry, arrived half an hour early. That in and of itself made Stanislav suspicious as he watched the house from the dense foliage beside it. Repairmen never arrived early.
Are you listening for my thoughts? he questioned Susan mentally. Since he wasn’t telepathic himself, she wouldn’t hear him unless she was keeping an ear out for him.
Yes.
What are you finding in his?
Things that are making me nervous as hell. He’s totally fixating on the basement.
What does he think is down there?
I don’t know. I’m not even sure he knows.
Henry kept up a rambling stream of jovial conversation while he installed window sensors and door sensors on the first floor. “Do you want them on the second floor, too?”
Tell him no.
“No, thank you. The ground floor is fine.”
“What about the basement?”
“No windows down there,” she responded.
“Is there an exterior entrance to it?”
“No.” He doesn’t like that, she reported. And even though he mentioned beagles making great guard dogs, his thoughts tell me he doesn’t like that I have one.
Stanislav had already picked up on the irritation Jax engendered in Henry. Stay sharp, he advised.
“Do you have any kids?” Henry asked. “I could put a sensor on the door anyway to alert you if they try to go down there. I did that for my sister. She was worried one of the little ones might manage to open the door and tumble down the stairs.”
“No kids,” she answered brightly. “And I don’t even go down there myself. Too many creepy crawlies.”
Smart thinking. That would lessen the likelihood that she would be linked to him.
An idea struck. Ask him what will happen if something triggers the alarm. Tell him you’re leaving town in a couple of days and want to make sure the place will be secure.
Okay. She did as requested.
Stanislav felt a surge of triumph r
ipple through the man before he responded casually, “How long will you be gone?”
“A week,” Susan improvised. “I’m flying to Miami for my grandmother’s birthday. It’s going to be a family reunion of sorts.”
“No problem. Just set the alarm when you leave. If something triggers it, police will check it out and you’ll receive both a call and a text message alerting you that there’s been a problem.”
When he leaves, Stanislav informed her, I’m going to follow him as far as the end of the driveway. Maybe he’ll pause to make a call and I’ll hear something useful.
Okay. But be careful. And don’t overdo it.
He remained where he was until Henry exited. Though the man kept a moderate pace, excitement rode him and sped his pulse.
Just as Henry passed between Susan’s car and his van, he tripped. The clipboard flew out of his hands as he threw his arms out to catch his balance and bit out a curse. Bending, he picked up the clipboard, then searched the ground around him, leaning this way and that. “Ah.” He strode around to the other side of Susan’s car and knelt, everything but his hat disappearing from view. A second later, he rose with a pen in hand, got in his van and drove away.
Putting on a burst of preternatural speed, Stanislav reached the end of the driveway before the van did. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt as much this time.
The security man was looking down as the vehicle slowly rolled to a halt. When he raised his head, he put a cell phone to his ear.
Stanislav flattened himself on the ground and rolled under the van.
“What’s up?” a voice asked. Stanislav’s hearing was so acute that he had no difficulty hearing both sides of the conversation.
“I just left,” Henry told whomever he’d called.
“And?”
“I think the package is still there, down in the basement.”
“You think?”
“She only wanted me to put sensors on the first floor, so I didn’t have an excuse to go down there. I tried the door to it when she wasn’t looking, but it was locked.”
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