"I don't know,” the woman Angel said, seeming flustered by the question. She started to say something, but cut herself off with a curse, placing her fingers to one ear as though listening. Looking closely, Sarah saw she was wearing some sort of radio earpiece, like Raphael's security wore. She nodded at whatever the other person was saying. “Go ahead and call Raj,” Angel said to Sarah. “No, wait. Call Emelie. She says to tell you—"
If the woman knew both Raj's and Emelie's names, then she had to have been sent by Raj. Sarah opened the door and stepped back. Angel pushed her way inside and closed the door quickly, shutting out the rush of noise and bodies that tried to follow her. “Thanks,” she said breathlessly. “And I really do work for Raj."
"You were at the restaurant today."
"I was. We knew about the Blackwood meeting and didn't want you going there alone. For good reason, as it turns out."
"I don't understand,” Sarah said. “Why would Raj—” Scavetti cleared his throat noisily behind her. “Ah,” she said turning slightly to indicate the pissed off detective. “This is Detective Scavetti, Buffalo PD. He wants—"
"You don't have to go with him,” Angel said immediately, giving Scavetti an unfriendly look. “Raj will be here—"
"What the f**k does that damn vampire have to do with any of this?"
Angel cut him off with a cold stare. “We will wait until he gets here before anything is decided."
"Who the hell appointed him God?” Scavetti snarled. “I don't have to wait for any f**king vampire—"
"Stop,” Sarah shouted at Scavetti. “We'll wait,” she said told him firmly. “Unless you're prepared to take me out of here kicking and screaming in front of all of that.” She gestured at the crowd of overheated press people.
Scavetti frowned, clearly thinking about doing just that.
"Come on, Tony,” she cajoled. “What can it hurt to wait until Raj gets here? If you drag me out there it'll be all over the papers. And what good will that do? You don't want me involved in your case, and that's pretty much the last thing in this world that I want either. Maybe together we can figure something out."
Scavetti stared at her, and she could tell he wasn't happy. But she also knew she'd touched a nerve about the press being all over the story. He finally gave her a short, unhappy nod.
"Fine. We'll wait.” He checked his watch. “Ten minutes. After that, I don't give a f**k what you say. I'm taking your ass out of here."
Sarah knew when to quit. “Thank you, Tony. I'm going upstairs to pack a few things, just in case,” she said.
"Good idea,” Angel said. She gave Scavetti a smug look as she followed Sarah up the stairs. “I'll help you with that."
Chapter Thirty-two
Raj opened his eyes to the familiarity of his Buffalo lair. The lights were already up, set on a timer so when he woke there would be the little bit of light he needed to see by. As he swung out of bed, the light increased until it reached a steady, soft level of illumination. His first thought was hunger, but he didn't have time to stop for a live donor. Or so he told himself. He was unwilling to face his growing reluctance to tap anonymous women for blood and sex. Unwilling to deal with the significance of that reluctance in light of his feelings for Sarah Stratton—who was history, he reminded himself firmly.
He went over to the bar refrigerator and pulled out a unit of bagged blood. Loosening the release valve enough to prevent the contents from exploding all over his microwave, he set it for a quick warm up. Less than a minute later, he rolled the bag between his hands to even out the temp and downed it quickly, trying not to think about the woman he'd rather be drinking from instead.
The memory of Sarah's sweet blood hit him anyway—the sudden burst of it when he'd nicked her full lip with his fangs, the warmth as it caressed his tongue and slid down his throat with exquisite slowness. His brain moved on, thinking how delicious it would be to tap her vein, to pierce the velvet softness of her neck as his c*ck slammed into her tight little body. He could feel her soft curves beneath his hands, could hear her hungry little cries as he'd pressed her against the wall—Enough!
He threw the empty bag aside in disgust and forced his thoughts elsewhere. Sarah wanted nothing to do with him, and he had far better things to do than to chase after a woman who thought he raped little girls for fun. He felt the heated rush of righteous anger and welcomed it, letting it fill his gut with determination as he started the shower. He leaned against the tile wall, eyes closed, arms stretched straight ahead of him as the hot water pummeled his neck and back, reviewing what he knew so far. He pictured again the faces of the young women, imagined the scenes at the blood houses where they'd disappeared. When he came to Estelle Edwards, his thoughts skiddedto a halt. It all came down to her. She was the orange in the bowl of apples, the lone rose in a bouquet of daisies. She was the key. A researcher who specialized in blood, who'd been seen talking to Krystof and then told her husband she had a contact in the vampire community who could provide—
He swore viciously when the thought hit him. He slammed his fist against the tile so hard it cracked beneath the strain.
Young women were missing, but so were old vampires! Old, but not powerful. That was the crucial element. They were old enough to have fully manifested the one aspect of most interest to human researchers—resistance to disease and aging—but not powerful enough to master children of their own or to bend other vampires to their will. What if the missing vampires were prisoners, just like the young women? What if all of them—vampires and humans—were nothing more than Estelle Edwards's lab rats?
But then why bring Raj in to unravel it? Krystof had to know he'd never stand for something like this. Unless that was the old man's plan all along? Maybe he'd lost control of the project and didn't know how to shut it down himself. Christ! That didn't make sense, either.
He turned off the shower, disgusted with the whole business. Drying off quickly, he was halfway dressed when his phone went off. He picked it up, not surprised to see it was Emelie.
"Em,” he said, by way of greeting. “How'd it go today with Sarah and Blackwood?"
Emelie sucked in a breath on whatever she'd been about to say and said, “Right, let's start at the restaurant, then.” Raj frowned, but Emelie had launched into her report, so he listened carefully. “Angel managed to get a bug on Sarah ahead of time, so we got the whole thing. Blackwood tried to blackmail her, threatening to go to the press with her true identity—"
"Blackmail her? Wait, what identity?” Raj interrupted.
"Okay, this is where it gets tricky. Blackwood seems to know Sarah from back in California."
"Yeah, she told me. A friend of the family or something."