She threw the wet napkins on the table. “You have got to be one of the most frustrating men I've ever met."
"That's because I'm not a man, sweetheart. I keep telling you that, but you're not listening."
"Fine. You're one of the most frustrating males I've ever met, how about that? You're still a male aren't you?"
"Oh, yes,” he drawled suggestively. “Definitely that."
Sarah felt her face heat once again, and not from the vodka. “All right, I give. What are we doing here?"
He shrugged. “Having a drink."
She sighed and scooted further into the banquette, turning sideways to lean against the wall and bring her feet up in front of her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and let her head fall back and her eyes close. She was tired. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent night's sleep, and didn't know how long it would be until the next one. She thought of all the things she had to do once this was over, once they found Trish and the others. The nightmare would be over for everyone else after that, but just beginning for Sarah.
She'd resign from the University, of course. She felt bad about leaving them in the lurch like this, but the term was almost over and they'd find someone to cover her classes. She was sure they'd prefer that to having her finish out the semester, in any event. It was bad enough that she was living under an assumed identity, although they probably could have gotten past that. She'd done nothing illegal. But a psychic? A woman who channeled captive women in her dreams? That was the stuff of those tawdry newspapers they sold at grocery checkout counters and not at all suitable for a faculty member at any decent university. She sighed again, more deeply this time, and was glad she'd already cried herself out from the vodka. The last thing she needed was to get all weepy with Raj the Perfect sitting across the table from her.
"Tired?” he asked.
Her eyes flashed open and she gave him a distrustful look. He'd sounded almost sympathetic for a minute there.
He gave a cynical laugh, more of a breath than anything else, as if he knew what she was thinking. “Regina doesn't know anything about where she was held,” he said without preamble. “She was drugged at first and then . . .” He scowled across the table at her. “But you already know that, don't you, Sarah? What else haven't you told me?"
Sarah studied him for a minute and looked away. “Emelie said you wouldn't understand."
"Understand what?"
"Why I didn't tell you."
"You mean why you lied to me?"
She blew out a frustrated breath and gave him a disbelieving look. “Why should I have told you anything? What are we, best friends now, Raj? Hell, I don't even tell my best friends any of this."
"What about your buddy Cynthia. I bet she knows."
"Is that what's really bugging you? That Cyn might know something you don't?” His jaw tightened and she coughed a disbelieving laugh. “That's it, isn't it? No, wait. It's not Cyn, it's Raphael! You think Cyn told Raphael. This is just stupid vampire one-upmanship.” She laughed bitterly. “Well, don't worry, Raj. Cyn doesn't know either. No one knows,” she muttered. “Or at least they didn't until all of this happened."
She leaned her head back again, closing her eyes. She'd have to call Cyn when this was over, too, she thought tiredly. Have to explain it all over again. Although something told her Cyn would understand a lot better than Raj did.
Raj poured himself another shot and threw it down his throat, slamming the empty glass down with a crack of sound. “There's at least one vampire involved,” he said suddenly, his voice heavy with disgust. “He's putting the women under his control so they only see what he wants them to see."
Sarah looked at him. “Can you tell who it is?"
"No. But I can tell who it isn't. He's got power, but he doesn't know what he's doing. His work is clumsy and potentially harmful."
"Regina?"
He shook his head. “She'll be all right."
"Wasn't she taken from one of the blood houses?"
Raj nodded. “Corfu, but that doesn't—"
"Were the others all taken the same way? I mean except for Trish."
"Pretty much, and I think whoever took Trish meant to get Jen. She was at one of the other houses the week before. Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “Why?"
"Well, that's how we find him."
His gaze sharpened. “We don't do anything. I do. You're no longer a part of this investigation. It's gotten too dangerous.” He slid out of the booth and stood next to it, waiting for her. “Come on, I'll take you back to the warehouse."