“Well?” Lucas asked Nicholas, never taking his eyes off Heintz.
“The other twelve are dead and dusted, my lord,” Nicholas said, crouching next to him and eyeing the wreckage of Heintz curiously, like a bug splayed for study. “What about this one?”
A small smile tipped the side of Lucas’s mouth. “His heart is still beating,” he said. “I could take him with us, see how long it takes him to regenerate enough to crawl.”
Nicholas winced. “He’ll get blood all over the new Gulfstream.”
Lucas laughed. “Good point. Very well.” He dug through the gore until he found Heintz’s beating heart and ripped it from its moorings. The vampire gave a final squeal of pain, and then died as his heart burst into flame on Lucas’s palm. The bloody mess turned to ash in moments, leaving nothing but a dark stain as testament that Alfonso Heintz had ever lived.
Lucas stood, slapping his hands together and eyeing his clothes in dismay. The black fabric went a long way toward concealing the blood, but he knew it was there. It was wet and sticky and damned uncomfortable. And it would soon begin to stink. Plus there was the new jet’s interior to consider.
“It’s late,” he said, automatically sending his thoughts out, verifying the well-being of each of the vampire warriors he’d brought with him. “We’ll take the trucks back and overnight at the Minneapolis house.”
“What about the FBI visit? Even if we leave first thing at sunset tomorrow, it’ll be hours before we get there.”
Lucas shrugged. “She’s dealing with vampires. If she’s stupid enough to show up too early, she’ll just have to wait. God knows she’s made me wait long enough.” He spared the stain of Alfonso Heintz a final glance, then started for the front of the house. “Come on. I want this place burned to the ground before we leave.”
Chapter Two
Quantico, Virginia
“Hunter, come in.”
Kathryn stepped into SAC William Fielding’s office. It was as neat as the man, obsessively neat, in her view. And that was saying something, since Kathryn wasn’t exactly known for her messy work habits.
“Close the door,” Fielding directed.
Kathryn complied, her jaw tightening automatically as she considered what it meant that he wanted the door closed. Fielding was better known for leaving the door wide open, especially where female agents were concerned. He was convinced women were naturally predisposed to sleep their way to the top and had a morbid fear of sexual harassment lawsuits.
Fielding wasn’t a bad looking man, and she was sure he’d had his share of admirers over the years, but culturally, he was trapped in the fifties. And he made no secret of the fact that he believed the FBI had made a mistake in opening its ranks to the weaker sex.
Of course, since most FBI agents were male, if you eliminated the weaker sex from the Bureau, there would be hardly any agents left. Kathryn bit her cheek against the urge to laugh at the inside joke, which reflected the opinion of pretty much every female agent she knew.
“Have a seat, Special Agent.”
Kathryn sat. If this bastard tried to cancel her vacation leave, he’d have far worse than a sexual harassment suit on his hands. Mayhem seemed likely. The man wouldn’t have any hands left when she was done with him! Which was no more than exaggerated wishful thinking on her part. The truth was, if he cancelled her leave, she’d grit her teeth and take it, because the only alternative was going AWOL, which would probably cost her her job. And she didn’t want that. She’d worked hard to get where she was. It was the only career she’d ever truly desired, and she was the perfect cog in the giant Bureau machine. Always on time, always willing to work the extra hours, the weekends.
Maybe Eduardo was right. Maybe it was time she loosened up a little, broke free of her own rigid rules.
And that reminded her of why she’d requested vacation leave. Her brother was the free soul of the family, and look where it had gotten him. Disappeared, missing . . . and . . . “Oh God,” she pleaded silently, “please don’t let anything terrible have happened to Dan.”
Fielding cleared his throat, drawing Kathryn’s attention back to the here and now. “I hear things, Hunter,” he said.
There didn’t seem to be any response to that, so Kathryn waited.
“I know your brother is missing. How long’s it been now?”
“Nearly two weeks, sir,” she confirmed, keeping her expression carefully blank, while wondering where he’d heard about Dan’s disappearance. Kathryn had been careful not to talk about her brother’s situation, though she had made a few phone calls. From home, of course, so no one could accuse her of slacking off on the job. She’d called the Sheriff in the small town where Dan had been staying while shooting in BadlandsNational Park, and might even have used her position as an FBI agent to set up an interview or two. That was assuming she could finally get her boss to approve some vacation time. Which was why she was sitting in Fielding’s office right now.
Fielding leaned forward, his brows coming together in a scowl. “I sympathize with your situation, Hunter. But you cannot use your position, your authority as an FBI agent, to put pressure on or interfere with the local authorities.”
“No, sir!” Kathryn hoped she sounded sufficiently shocked at the very thought of such a thing. “My brother is an artist, and something of a free spirit. He’s done this before, dropping off the grid for weeks at a time.”
What she didn’t say was that while Dan might drop off the grid, he’d never dropped off her personal grid for this long. She’d dismissed Penny’s initial hysterics over Dan’s missed check-in. The woman was a frustrated actress and tended toward the dramatic in almost every situation. But when a week passed, and there was still no word, she’d begun to worry. She and her brother had a system, and even when he missed his calls to Penny, he’d never once failed to get a message out to Kathryn, somehow, some way. Until now.
“Good to hear.”
Kathryn nodded and hoped Fielding didn’t get chatty and start asking about her vacation plans. She’d hate to lie, but she would if he pushed her.