“We’ve quite a few of those in the surrounding area, as well.”
“Yes, but this particular club, according to my sources, is owned and run by vampires.”
Donlon lifted his eyes, looking over her shoulder at his lieutenant, Nicholas. The exchange was silent, but it told her he hadn’t expected that particular piece of evidence.
“A blood house,” he said, returning his gaze to her.
Kathryn blinked at him. “I’m sorry?”
He smiled briefly and repeated, “A blood house. The club you’re referring to is called a blood house. That’s not its name, but that’s what it is. It’s where humans go to . . . mingle with vampires.”
“Mingle,” Kathryn said softly. “You mean—”
“Many humans are fascinated by the vampire . . . culture, shall we say. They go to blood houses to flirt with what they see as the darker side of humanity. And they give blood, of course.”
Kathryn frowned. “Give blood. You mean from their own veins?”
Donlon laughed. “Don’t look so shocked, Kathryn. It’s a very pleasurable experience for all involved.”
“Are you telling me people go to these places and let vampires bite them?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“But that’s . . .” She was about to say revolting, but thought better of it given current company.
Donlon grinned as if he knew anyway. “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. And you will,” he added with a slow, smoldering look.
Kathryn felt her lips pinch with irritation and forced her face to resume a bland expression. He had a way of goading her completely out of her comfort zone.
“In any event,” she said briskly, “while I can’t imagine Daniel enjoying something like that, he always has been an adventurer, so it’s possible he—”
“Daniel?” Donlon said, catching her slip. “So, the last name isn’t merely a coincidence. A husband? Brother? It’s unlikely that he’s old enough to be your father.”
“How do you know how old he is?” she demanded at once.
Donlon shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t. But I can certainly guess at how old you are, and extrapolate how old your father would have to be. My manager at that club is very careful about whom he lets in. And a man old enough to be your father would never pass muster. Too dangerous.”
“Dangerous for whom?”
“The older man, love. As I said, having a vampire drink from you is very enjoyable. Not everyone’s heart can handle it.”
“Lovely,” she muttered.
“Indeed,” he agreed, not at all put off. “But as to your missing . . .”
“Brother,” she supplied. There was little point in trying to conceal it. Sutcliffe knew, and she suspected Donlon knew, too. Despite his little games, she found it unlikely the efficient Magda would have let her get this far without checking out every aspect of her purpose in being here.
“Your missing brother, yes. I don’t often visit the blood houses, but the vampires on my staff do frequent that particular one, among others. If you have a photograph of your brother, I’d be happy to show it around and ask if anyone saw anything.”
“I’d rather check it out myself,” Kathryn countered. “If I could have your club manager’s name and those of any vampires who visit the club regularly . . .” She took out her notepad and pen, prepared to write names.
Donlon didn’t move except to give her a lazy blink of his eyes. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Kathryn. My people rely on me to protect them, and I take that responsibility very seriously. It was not so long ago that your people were hunting mine down and slaughtering them for no reason. As I said, I’m more than happy to show your brother’s photograph around, but that’s all you’ll get.”
“What I’ll get,” she said sharply, “is a judge’s order requiring your people to submit to questioning.”
“Will you?” Lucas came to his feet so fast, she didn’t see him move, and she shot up defensively.
Donlon’s expression was no longer lazy, his voice no longer teasing. “Go ahead, Special Agent Hunter. Get your warrant. Oh, but wait, you can’t, can you? Because you’re not here in an official capacity. In fact, I suspect your supervisors told you to leave this alone, but here you are anyway.”