Cyn concentrated on breathing as Jabril studied her. “My own people have turned up nothing,” he said. “I see no reason why you think you might—"
She smiled. “Let us say, my lord, that my sources are somewhat different than those of your other investigator. There are hundreds of children, teenagers, living on the streets of Houston; Elizabeth is most likely hiding among them. As experienced as your man no doubt is at this sort of thing, it is more likely these children would run from him than tell him anything useful."
"Are you suggesting they will speak to you?” Asim didn't even bother to deny they'd hired someone else.
"As I said, Asim,” she said without taking her attention from Jabril. “I dress the part. My lord,” she continued. “I am confident I can turn this case around within twenty-four hours if I can narrow my search. There is a chance that Mirabelle—"
"Very well.” That was all he said, but he continued to stare at her unblinking, as Mirabelle gasped in seeming pain and scrambled to her feet to stand, head bowed, hands clenched tightly at her sides.
"Sire,” the girl whispered, her gaze riveted to the floor between her feet.
"Mirabelle, Ms. Leighton seems not to have done a thorough job on her last visit. If you could escort her to Elizabeth's room once more, please.” Cyn ignored the intentional slight, more troubled by the change in Mirabelle's demeanor than Jabril's opinion of her skills. If the young woman had been cowed before, she was positively terrified now.
"Yes, my lord.” Mirabelle's voice was barely audible as she sidled over to the door without ever once turning her back or raising her eyes from the floor.
"Do come right back, my treasure. The sun is near.” Mirabelle flinched as if struck.
"Yes, my lord,” she whispered again.
Cyn turned back to Jabril, her face schooled to show nothing. “Thank you, my lord.” She probably should have said more, kissed his ass a little, but the only thing she wanted right then was to get the hell out of his sight. She followed Mirabelle through the door, turning her back on the vampire lord with an act of will, refusing to scuttle backwards like some sort of slave. Fuck him.
* * * *
"What does she want?” Jabril snapped when the two women were gone.
"She asked to speak to Mirabelle, my lord. She claims it is relevant to Elizabeth's disappearance, and the guard reports she was most insistent."
"Is it possible she's found something?” Jabril gestured for Asim to follow as he strode toward the elevator and his private harem, hunger goading him to hurry.
"Unlikely. The investigator remains confident he'll find the girl before it's too late. I hardly think Ms. Leighton can do better. She is the spoiled daughter of a wealthy man who plays at being a detective. No doubt she has tired of the local nightlife and wishes to find some excuse for dropping the case so she can go home."
"Perhaps,” Jabril said absently as the elevator doors closed. He glanced at his watch, thinking only of the time left to partake of a slave or two before the dawn took him.
* * * *
As before, Mirabelle halted right outside the door, breathing deeply. Unlike before, however, there was no sense of release in the action. She stood hunched over, her hands clenched, her breath gasping in and out. Cyn realized the girl was crying and reached out to touch her shoulder. Mirabelle flinched at the gentle contact, taking a step away.
"I'm sorry,” Mirabelle said in a dead voice. “This way, please."
Cynthia frowned, but walked along quietly for a few paces. “Tell me, Mirabelle,” she said conversationally. “If there was a fire and you had ten seconds to grab everything that meant anything to you, what would you take?"
Mirabelle gave her a startled glance before looking away quickly. Cyn thought at first she wouldn't answer, but then she said, “Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"He's already taken everything away. There's nothing here I want."
"That's what I thought. What about Elizabeth?"
"Elizabeth is gone. And I hope she stays that way. No offense, Ms. Leighton, but I hope you never find her."
"Oh, I've already found her."
Mirabelle stopped dead in her tracks, then spun toward Cyn with a frantic look around. “You can't give her to him! Don't you know what he'll do?"
Cyn gave her a little smile. “Think, Mirabelle. I know you have a mind, even if he never lets you use it. Why would I be here, searching Elizabeth's things, when I've already found her? Why not simply tell Jabril where she is and collect my money?"
Mirabelle scrunched up her face in weary confusion. “I don't know,” she cried. “Please don't...” She gulped back a sob. “Please don't play games with me. That's all they ever do, all he ever does. And he hurts me. Oh God, he hurts me so much.” She covered her face with her hands, and then suddenly raised her head, staring directly at Cyn, her eyes hot with hatred. “You want to know what I'd do if there was a fire in this damn house? I'd slit my own throat and hope to God they all burned to ash along with me. There's nothing here worth saving, not even me."