He frowned at her, and then turned away with a gruff, “One moment."
While she waited, Cyn checked her watch and walked herself mentally through the next hour or so. It was a few minutes past five a.m. and, according to the local paper, the next sunrise would occur around seven-thirty. She was cutting it pretty close, but her greatest fear was giving Jabril enough time to come after her. By slipping out as close as possible to sunrise, she was counting on the vampire lord not discovering anything amiss until he woke tomorrow night. By then, everything would either have already gone to hell or, if luck was with her, she and Mirabelle would be enjoying the view from Cyn's condo on the beach.
She listened as the guard spoke to someone on the house phone, probably Asim. He struck her as the kind of flunky who would control access to the big guy as a way of ensuring his own power base. When the guard turned back, she was ready with a brilliant smile.
"My lord will see you."
Cyn fought against the urge to roll her eyes. “That's very kind, thank you so much.” Her effort to be pleasant garnered nothing more than a grunt in response, but the gate opened, which was all she really cared about.
Cyn parked the big SUV on the outward curve of the driveway, which put it far away from the front door and closer to the path leading to the servants’ quarters in the back. She hoped such things wouldn't matter when it came time to depart, but one never knew. The front door opened as she reached the porch and a middle-aged man appeared, heading toward a couple of cars parked to one side. The very definition of clean-cut, the skin of his face gleamed and his nearly white hair was cut short enough that his pink scalp was clearly visible. This must be the other private investigator Jabril had hired, the real one. She knew the type. Former military, he probably had a very docile and very young wife at home, someone he'd brought from an island far away, somewhere where women were still subservient to men. She chuckled privately. More than one of those guys had been unpleasantly surprised when the little mouse became a real American woman. He ignored her, brushing past without even a glance.
Cyn turned as he went by. “You're looking for Elizabeth Hawthorn, aren't you?” she called.
He stopped, turning his head sharply to stare at her.
"Any luck?” she asked.
He shot an angry look at someone over her shoulder, walked over to his car and climbed inside, departing without so much as a word.
"I see you make friends wherever you go."
Cyn's gut clenched, but she made sure nothing showed on her face as she turned to confront Asim, who was blocking the door. “Asim,” she said. “How lovely to see you again."
The vampire's gaze traveled down her body, lingering on the length of bare thigh visible below the short skirt, before meeting her eyes. “Is this how you do business, Ms. Leighton?” His expression told her exactly what he thought her business must be.
"I dress the part, Asim. Whatever works. I'd like to speak to Mirabelle again, if possible."
"You were hardly expected and it is nearly dawn,” he said primly, but Cyn just smiled pleasantly. If he was waiting for some sort of explanation from her, he'd be waiting a long time. “Come this way,” he snapped.
* * * *
Jabril Karim leaned back behind his desk and studied the cowering young woman. There was no pleasure in punishing Mirabelle. She didn't give even a pretense of fighting back, surrendering almost before he'd struck the first blow. Not that he stooped to actually hitting her. That was far too crude, and the evidence far too visible. Besides, he had no need to resort to such brute measures; as her Sire, he could inflict pain with a thought. She did cower prettily, he'd give her that. She was curled up like a dog over there in the corner, trembling so hard he could see it from across the room. Very satisfying in its own way, he supposed, and it was the only satisfaction he'd enjoyed thus far tonight. He hadn't even fed before business had intruded, an urgent missive from the head of his family in Saudi Arabia that demanded immediate action.
And now this business with Elizabeth. That idiot private investigator Asim had hired had found nothing—absolutely nothing. Less than two weeks remaining until her eighteenth birthday, and she seemed to have vanished into thin air. Jabril had waited years for this opportunity; he'd bribed and cajoled the necessary authorities, put up with their intrusive investigations and inspections. He'd earned the right to whatever fortune the girl inherited. More, he'd earned the right to the girl herself. Elizabeth showed much more spirit than her older sister, and Jabril had greatly anticipated the pleasure of breaking her, of seeing her crawl at his feet and beg for mercy.
He pushed away from his desk in anger, shoving back the chair and standing so quickly that in her corner little Mirabelle gasped in fear. And now Raphael's whore had shown up unexpectedly, no doubt to report a similar failure, not that he'd expected anything useful from her anyway.
A soft knock sounded and Asim slipped into the room, glancing at his Sire before opening the door fully to admit the Leighton woman. Jabril tensed instinctively as she entered and he scented the faint but unmistakable whiff of Raphael that still clung to her skin, to the blood that ran in her veins. His hunger surged as she sauntered into the room, her long legs sliding like silk beneath a short leather skirt, br**sts brazenly displayed. He imagined what it would be like to have her under him, those legs wrapped around his hips, his c*ck pounding her mercilessly, his teeth sinking into that smooth neck until her hot blood gushed down his throat. He grew hard at the thought, even harder when he imagined Raphael's rage at the trespass. Of course, it was hardly his fault that Raphael left this one to wander about unprotected. The other vampire lord had to know how tempting she would be to his enemies. He stared at the woman through hooded eyes, feeling the press of fangs against the soft tissue of his gums as they responded to his body's hunger.
"Ms. Leighton.” It came out as more of a growl than he'd intended and he saw her eyes widen slightly as she took in his obvious signs of arousal. Her scent changed, sweetened by the tinge of fear, and his arousal grew. He could be on her in the blink of an eye, long before she saw him coming, long before she drew the gun concealed next to her soft breast.
He took a half step forward, his mind filled with thoughts of Leighton's na**d body stretched beneath him, trembling with need, her blood running down over those full br**sts to be licked away as she cried for release.
Mirabelle whimpered and the Leighton woman dropped away from his outstretched hand to crouch next to the stupid girl. He snarled angrily, the words that would punish already forming in his head. He stopped and sucked in a deep breath, drawing on the tremendous will that made him one of the most powerful vampires alive.
"Ms. Leighton.” There was the smallest of tremors in his voice, and he paused to swallow before continuing. “This is unexpected and it is late. Did you have something for me?"
* * * *
Cyn knelt on the floor near the whimpering Mirabelle, fighting to breathe in air grown suddenly thick with equal parts of lust and fear. Jabril growled her name and she stared up at him, seeing the dark thoughts slithering below the surface of his eyes, the obvious swell of an erection beneath his elegant slacks. He smiled, plump lips drawing back to expose fully distended fangs. It was a terrifying sight. She struggled not to show her fear as he took a step closer, thinking of her gun and how fast he could move, and knowing one thing clearly. She did not want him to touch her again. She didn't know why it was so important, but her stomach revolted at the very idea.
Jabril repeated her name, then paused. When he spoke next, the fangs were gone, his eyes almost normal.
Cyn glanced at Mirabelle and stood to face him. “Thank you for seeing me, my lord,” she said, forcing herself to forget his arousal of only moments before, to ignore the whimpering girl at her feet. “I know time is short, but I wonder if I might have a few words with Mirabelle? And perhaps take another look at Elizabeth's things? I've spoken to some people who believe they've seen her and to Mrs. Hewitt—"
Jabril frowned. “The caseworker,” Asim provided.
"—and I may have an idea as to where she's hiding. It occurred to me, the sisters being close, that Elizabeth might have said something inadvertent to Mirabelle or perhaps left something lying about in a pocket or a drawer that could help me narrow down the leads."