Cyn gave her a wide grin.
"Oh, shit, Cyn, why would—” Luci stopped herself and looked closely at her friend. “You're happy,” she said, then squinted even closer. “No, you're in f**king love.” She sighed. “If you're happy, I'm happy. But, sweetie,” she put a hand on Cyn's arm. “Be careful."
Cyn gave her a spontaneous hug, something she rarely did. Luci laughed and said, “Okay, now I know you're in love. But you tell that big bloodsucker if he breaks your heart again, I'm coming for him with a stake."
Footsteps thundered down the stairs and Liz appeared in the doorway. She stopped when she saw the two women embracing. “What's up?” she said, sounding a little worried.
"Not a thing,” Luci said quickly, giving Cyn a warning glance before she could respond with the obvious tasteless rejoinder. Not that she would have. Honest.
"Hey, kid, Happy Birthday,” Cyn said cheerily. “You ready for the big day?"
"Give me a break, like I've never driven before.” Liz rolled her eyes in the timeless disgust of all teenagers. “I need these stupid lessons to get my license, but it's not like I don't already know how to drive."
"Right,” Cyn said, with a private grin for Lucia. “Let's get this useless exercise over with then. We'll be back in a couple of hours,” she added in Luci's direction. “You want anything while I'm out?"
"Yeah, how about some of what you had last night,” Luci said dryly. “It's been awhile."
Cyn laughed. Liz looked confused, but unwilling to admit she cared what they were talking about, she danced impatiently. “So are we doing this, or what?"
"We're doing it and we're outta here. Call me if you think of anything, Luce. Anything I can bring you, anyway.” Luci's laughter followed them down the hall and out the door.
* * * *
The driving school was in West L.A.'s business district, an area of warehouses and light industry, not too far from the new para facility where Raphael had been so recently incarcerated. Normally, the driving instructor would have driven to the student's location, but since Liz's only current residence was the runaway shelter, Cyn figured it would be better to go to them and use her Malibu condo as Liz's official address. Not that most of these places cared overmuch about such niceties as a permanent address, but they were supposed to, and it would be Cyn's luck to get the one employee who'd bother to check.
Liz had obtained a certified copy of her Texas birth certificate from Hewitt before she ran from Houston, knowing it would be necessary when the time came to safeguard her inheritance from Jabril. For now, it was her only proof of age and identification, and for backup, her “aunt” Cynthia was going along as a responsible adult. For her part, Aunt Cynthia wanted to stress that she was a very young aunt, more like a sister, really.
Parking on the street was always problematic in this neighborhood, especially during the business week, so they swung into a parking garage about a block away from the school. Liz was telling her about an ongoing disagreement in the house that broke down to boys versus girls and something to do with movie selection. Cyn was only half-listening, her attention on a dark blue sedan that seemed to have picked them up as they passed the school and was now following them into the parking structure. She couldn't see much detail in the dim interior of the garage, but the very blandness of the vehicle made her uneasy. She'd considered having one of Raphael's human guards tag along today, but had dismissed the idea almost immediately. Her Glock was tucked beneath her jacket, secure in its usual shoulder rig. And it was daylight. The worst she would have to contend with was some hired thug of Jabril's. She could handle that.
Nevertheless, when she turned off the ramp and saw the sedan drive by, continuing to the higher levels, she breathed a sigh of relief. Prowling up and down a couple of aisles, she finally slid the Land Rover into a slot not far from the open stairwell. Once out of the car, she paused for a careful look around the garage before opening the back passenger door to retrieve her backpack, telling herself she was worrying at shadows.
The sudden rush of movement spun her around, half inside the back seat, too late to avoid the Taser that was shoved against her chest. Her teeth clenched and she gave an involuntary groan as she hit the truck's running board before falling awkwardly to the cold cement floor. She had a confused glimpse of the flushed face and white hair of Jabril's PI before he delivered a second Taser burst, and then the sound of Liz screaming her name as she rushed around the car.
No, she thought as she fell into unconsciousness. No, Liz, run!
Chapter Forty-nine
"My lord."
Raphael sat at his desk, reviewing the proposal for a new compound in Seattle. The human population there had grown substantially over the last hundred years, and his vampires in Washington were feeling the need for greater security. What had once been a rural retreat with few neighbors was now a bustling suburb, and his people were suggesting a move even further beyond the city limits. He gave Duncan an absent smile, wondering where Cyn was and how soon she would return. She'd said something about a birthday celebration for the girl Liz, but he had spent too many nights without her and wanted her here. Now.
He glanced up casually and was abruptly aware of his lieutenant's solemn expression. “Duncan?"
"I just took a call from Cynthia's friend Lucia Shinn. She runs the shelter where Mirabelle's sister Elizabeth has been staying. It seems Cynthia and Elizabeth never returned from their excursion to the driving school this morning, and Ms. Shinn has been unable to reach them despite repeated attempts."
Raphael was on his feet. “Have you checked with Alexandra? Perhaps they're with Mirabelle.” He didn't believe it. If Cyn was on the estate, he'd know it; he'd feel it in his blood.
"Ms. Shinn tells me she called Alexandra's manor immediately after sunset."
Raphael and Duncan shared a look. “And yet no one from the manor has contacted me."
"Ms. Shinn became worried enough that she called us directly, tracing the number through your commercial front."
The house phone rang and Duncan picked it up, listened for several minutes and issued a terse command. He hung up and turned to Raphael. “Our security hooked into the GPS on Cynthia's truck sometime ago. It was without her knowledge, but I thought it wise—"
Raphael cut him off. “Where is she?"
"Her vehicle,” Duncan stressed, “followed the expected pattern this morning, going first to pick up Elizabeth, then to a location near the driving school, most likely a parking structure. It stayed there for a very brief time, a matter of minutes, not long enough to have conducted any sort of business. Since then it has been moving steadily in a southeasterly direction, allowing for multiple refueling stops. It is now slightly west of Tucson in Arizona."