The partner gave her a skeptical look and followed when she strolled over to the two machines. One was cold drinks, but the other ... She dug a wrinkled five dollar bill out of her jeans pocket, smoothed it out and slid it into the reader. The machine mulled over the quality of her money for a while, decided it was okay and informed her in bright red numbers of her good fortune. Cyn bought a package of cookies she didn't want, waited while they dropped into the bin, and then added a light green package of Doublemint gum. Not exactly her favorite flavor, but then she wasn't buying it for the taste.
As she made her way back to the continuing argument, she unwrapped a couple sticks of the gum and shoved them into her mouth, idly smoothing the wrappers with her fingers.
Santillo's partner stared at the small pieces of tinfoil and Cyn grinned at him, chewing noisily. “You want my gum wrappers, Detective?"
He scowled and Cyn laughed out loud. She ducked behind a desk and deposited the wrappers in a trash receptacle. “You've been watching too many movies,” she chided, then glanced over as the yelling finally stopped.
"She's unarmed,” the partner confirmed, to the obvious disappointment of everyone but Cyn and the two lawyers.
"Way to go, Leighton,” Santillo snarled. “Protecting them against your own. Didn't think even you'd sunk that low."
Cyn smiled sweetly, refusing to be baited. “Kimiko,” she said, turning her gaze to the vampire lawyer. “A moment, please?"
"Of course. Give us some space, Santillo.” Kimiko didn't even try to be polite, pinning the bulky detective with a slow, cold stare. Santillo swore beneath his breath, but stepped back several feet. Kimiko and her husband Boyd pulled Cyn over, turning their backs to the hallway and shielding her from prying eyes. Putting their heads together to confer, Boyd Lorick gave his wife a hard look. “You okay, Kimmi?"
Kimiko blinked several times and drew a deep breath. “Not for much longer.” She slid the gun silently into Cyn's waistband. “You found some chewing gum,” she breathed in relief. “Good.” Boyd gave Kimiko a questioning look, but she shook her head, took a step back and glared at Santillo. “Let's do this,” she snarled.
Chapter Thirty-five
Raphael was standing in the middle of the room waiting for Cyn when she stepped through the doorway. They'd taken away his tie and belt—as if he would do them the favor of committing suicide over this, if that was even possible for a vampire—but he was still wearing his suit, a nearly black charcoal worsted wool, white shirt open at the collar. Cyn sighed. It took a lot more than the absence of a tie to make Raphael look anything but gorgeous. She looked up to find his flat black eyes staring at her. Unable to look away, she swallowed nervously to avoid choking on her gum and forced a weak smile. Raphael's gaze never wavered.
Kimiko came forward to assure him Boyd would take care of everything. “Go, Kimiko,” Raphael said softly, his eyes never leaving Cyn. “It grows late and I would not give them the satisfaction.” Kimiko nodded unhappily, but hurried out through the open doorway, passing Santillo who was pretending he had a reason to be there. Cyn jumped when Boyd laid a gentle touch on her shoulder and she turned to find him right next her. “I'll be back before sunset,” he said softly.
Cyn nodded her understanding, intensely aware of Raphael's continued scrutiny. “See you then,” she said.
Boyd hustled Santillo bodily out of the room, giving Cyn a final thumbs up before the door slammed shut. She stared at the door until the shuffling of footsteps faded down the hallway, and then turned back to Raphael, trying to think of something rational to say. He held up a hand for her to wait, his head tilted slightly as he listened with his far keener vampire senses.
Cyn took the time to look around. Knowing they were there, she found two of the camera lenses quickly. She drew the now tasteless wad of gum out of her mouth with a grimace—she hated chewing gum—and within a short period of time had disabled those two, plus one more over the door itself. She gave Raphael a questioning look.
He held out his hand. Cyn looked at it, shifted her gaze to his face and sighed in resignation. She took his hand and let him pull her into an embrace. His whole body relaxed as his arms came around her, and then stiffened again as he inhaled deeply through his nose. “You're carrying a gun, my Cyn.” His voice was barely there, little more than a breath against her ear. She had blocked the visual on the cameras, but they might still be recording sound. “They didn't search you?"
Cyn nodded and whispered back, knowing he could hear. “But not Kimiko."
Raphael chuckled. “A formidable woman, Kimiko, even before—” He gave a choking kind of cough and seemed to lose balance for a moment, leaning heavily against her. Cyn drew back in alarm.
"Raphael?"
"My apologies, Cyn, it seems...” With a visible effort, he straightened and shook his head. In a bizarre flashback to Mirabelle and the airplane, Cyn tucked her shoulder under his arm and urged him in the direction of the bed before his vampire nature took away the option. They barely made it. Cyn managed to pull back the blanket and Raphael collapsed onto the narrow mattress, pulling her down with him. She gave him a skeptical look, wondering if he was as out of it as he appeared, but his eyelids never even fluttered. His head hit the pillow, he exhaled a last deep breath and then ... nothing.
She panicked a little when he stopped breathing, her lungs seizing up in sympathy as she pressed her hand down over his heart. A wan beat pulsed under her palm, and she sighed in relief, only to jump in surprise when his chest expanded and he drew in another breath. She watched for several minutes, timing his vitals, finally relaxing when his body seemed to settle into a regular, if distinctly sluggish, rhythm.
Cyn had seen dead bodies, bodies in the morgue, bodies freshly dead from violence or even quietly dead at home or hospital. But despite the fiction of movies and television, the truth was that life fled the body fairly quickly. The personality that had once animated the flesh, the unique expressions that had sculpted the face their loved ones recognized ... those were gone forever. She gazed down at Raphael and wondered how anyone could mistake this serene beauty for death. She brushed an imaginary hair off his forehead, running her fingers back along his scalp and caressing his cheek softly. Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she stood, feeling slightly perverted, as though she'd taken advantage of him in his helpless state.
She straightened and looked around the small cell—four square walls, painted a dull gray, with a single sleeping platform jutting from one side and a sink and toilet in the far corner. There were no windows—they got that much right anyway. She crossed to the vanity and used the toilet, after a very thorough scan for additional cameras. She washed her face and hands, wrinkling her nose at the harsh soap provided, and had no sooner dried her hands on a paper towel, than the lights clicked off with no warning. She listened to the fading fluorescent buzz and chuckled. Santillo and crew couldn't complain about her sabotaging cameras that weren't supposed to be there, so they'd clearly decided to punish her by turning off the lights in the windowless room instead. They'd be disappointed to learn she didn't care. She'd been up all night searching for Liz; this would actually make it easier for her to sleep.
Unfortunately, it was going to be the floor or the bed; there wasn't anywhere else to sit. Another intentional oversight, no doubt. She wondered again if Raphael was at all aware under that serene exterior, and figured he was probably laughing his ass off right about now. But she was too tired to fight it.
Grateful for the dark room, she slipped the gun out of her waistband and tucked it under the pillow, then stretched out on the bed next to the vampire lord, turning so she faced the door. She closed her eyes, grateful at least that it was nearly winter and the days were short, although she suspected this one would seem very, very long.
Chapter Thirty-six
Cyn woke the instant Raphael began to stir. It had been a restless day for her, with people coming and going almost constantly out in the hallway. The facility had been virtually abandoned only days before, but they'd probably brought in extra staff since they were holding an actual prisoner. Still, Cyn couldn't help wondering if all that noise in the hallway had been intentional. There were times when it had sounded more like a frat party than a police holding facility. She shifted on the narrow bed, ready to sit up, when a familiar arm curled around her waist to hold her in place.
"Is this my punishment or yours, sweet Cyn?” he murmured.
Cyn focused on breathing normally, intensely aware of his closeness ... and the fact that the door could open at any minute.
Raphael's breath was warm on her neck. “Cameras?"