"Found, yes, my lord. Windle does not yet have her in custody, although he expects that to happen very soon."
"If he knows where she is, then what is the delay?"
"He has been following her trail closely for several days, my lord, and tracked her to a private home where she was staying. Unfortunately, she has now moved herself to some sort of home for runaways. There are several people staying in the house, and he has seen the Leighton woman come and go more than once."
Jabril swore viciously. “She cannot be allowed—"
"No, my lord,” Asim dared to interrupt. “Windle has set a watch on the house and is quite confident he will have Elizabeth in his custody within days, if not hours."
Jabril studied his lieutenant, considering whether this news deserved punishment. Any competent investigator would have had the girl in custody already. Of course, he'd been forced to rely on human agents. He could push Raphael only so far, and sending vampire agents in to take the girl would cross a boundary he wasn't prepared to violate. Not yet.
A lighter knock sounded on the door and Asim stepped aside to permit it to open. A young woman stood there—naked, her long, black hair hanging to the curve of her shapely ass. Her skin was a lovely golden brown, and the pointed ni**les on her small, high br**sts were already pebbled with fear. Jabril blinked lazily and held out his hand.
"Very well, Asim,” he said absently, pulling the girl closer and wrapping his fist in that abundance of silky hair. He jerked her head to one side, baring her neck. His fangs split his gums hungrily. “Keep me informed,” he managed to say, before slicing his fangs into the soft skin of her neck, feeling the vibration of her screams echoing in his very bones.
He was vaguely aware of Asim backing out and closing the door as he drank deeply of the girl's blood, feeling it run warm and fresh down his throat. He growled with pleasure as his c*ck hardened, eager for a taste of its own. He lifted his head, picked her up and threw her on the bed, her soft cries of pain only making him harder. Yes, it had definitely been time for a change.
Chapter Forty-one
Los Angeles, California
The para facility was dark and quiet the night after Todd Ryder's arrest. It felt empty, a sharp contrast to the night Raphael had been brought in and the halls had been packed wall-to-wall with blue. Cyn strode quietly down the linoleum-covered hallway, making an effort to keep her boots from clacking, somehow unwilling to disturb the silence. Behind her, Duncan might as well have been a ghost for all the noise he made. If he hadn't come with her, she wouldn't have known he was there.
A door opened and Eckhoff stepped into the light. His gaze flashed from her to Duncan and he frowned. “Cyn.” He opened the door fully and she saw his Lieutenant standing inside, with Santillo glowering behind him.
"Lieutenant Garzon,” she acknowledged. She ignored Santillo.
"Leighton,” Garzon said. “We appreciate your help on this.” Santillo flashed his lieutenant a furious look.
"I'm always happy to help the department, sir,” Cyn replied honestly. She stepped aside slightly and indicated Duncan. “This is Lord Raphael's Chief of Security, Duncan—” She realized she had no idea what Duncan's last name was, but he stepped easily into the breach.
"Duncan Milford,” he said, his Southern accent once again making a blatant appearance. He reached out to shake hands and the lieutenant responded automatically, offering his hand in return. Eckhoff followed suit. For a minute, she thought Duncan was actually going to shake hands with Santillo as well, but he settled for a friendly nod in the detective's direction, which must have been an effort.
Cyn didn't know if it was the Southern accent or Duncan's human good looks, but everyone relaxed after that. It took all her self-control not to laugh out loud. Of course, one of the reasons it was Duncan standing there next to her and not someone else was precisely because he looked so very human.
"So what is it you'd like from us?” Garzon asked Duncan.
"Well, sir, it's a matter of security,” Duncan drawled. “You understand. The suspect...” The way he said it invited all of them to join him in substituting the word “killer.” There was no doubt in this room as to Ryder's guilt. “The suspect tried to frame my boss on some pretty serious charges and I can't figure out why. We don't know him; he's in none of our files. So I figured, since Ms. Leighton here was helpful in tracking this guy down, you might let us have a word with him, figure out what his beef is with Lord Raphael. We like to keep an eye on this sort of thing."
Cyn wanted to barf at the good ol’ boy act, but it seemed to work. The Lieutenant was nodding before Duncan had even finished speaking. “Of course. Shouldn't be a problem. Leighton here knows the rules on interrogations, and you must have some experience yourself, Mr. Milford?"
"Duncan, sir. Just Duncan. And yes, I do. I did my time on the job."
Nearly two hundred years ago, Cyn wanted to add. Duncan glanced at her sidelong, as if he knew what she was thinking.
"Well, good, then,” the Lieutenant was saying. “We'll be moving him out of here before too long. He belongs downtown, but we wanted to keep this little visit low profile. So, let's get to it. Ten minutes, right, Leighton?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good enough. Eckhoff—"
"How'd you know?” Santillo demanded, his glare making it clear he was talking to her.
Cyn looked at him, her eyebrows raised in question.
"How'd you connect Ryder?"
Cyn stared at him evenly, deciding whether to answer his question. What the hell. “The case paralleled one of my own,” she said. “A teenage runaway from Texas. I talked to a lot of kids trying to find her and they all wanted to talk about the killer. Everything they said led back to Ryder. He worked with the street kids, had a habit of taking in a girl from time to time, he even had a job that would give him the knowledge to drain the bodies the way the killer did.