She turned to face him, her hazel eyes dark and flat, the gold flecks all but invisible. “Don't worry about it,” she said dismissively. “I'm fine.” She turned away and began climbing the stairs. “I'm always fine,” she said in words soft enough that if he'd been human he wouldn't have heard them. It troubled him and he took the first step to follow her, but his phone chose that moment to ring once again, echoing in the still warehouse.
"What?” he demanded.
"My lord,” Em said in a tight voice. “I don't know how long—"
"I'm there in five minutes, Em. No one does anything—"
"I'm holding them, my lord, but I don't know how much longer—"
"No one goddamn moves before I get there,” he snarled. He slammed his phone into his pocket and was already running out of the warehouse and into the car with the inhuman speed of his vampire blood.
Some part of Sarah heard Raj leave, aware there was trouble somewhere. That same part of her hoped no one got hurt, least of all Emelie, or even Raj. But most of her thoughts were on something completely different. She'd seen her car out front and wondered if they'd left her keys. Not that it mattered. She had a second set tucked into her purse, a backup she'd started carrying the first time she locked her keys in her car two years ago and decided the spare did her no good sitting at home in her desk when she was miles away. She walked down the mezzanine toward her temporary quarters, feeling the uneven tread of the metal surface beneath her feet, half-listening to the sounds of some sporting event drifting over from the living area where a couple of human guards were hanging in front of the big screen. His vamps, she supposed, were all out doing whatever it was they did in the middle of the night. She checked her watch. It was a few minutes before one a.m.
She pushed into the room, automatically checking to be sure everything was the way she'd left it. Control freak that she was, she knew the order of her rooms down to the placement of every pencil and pen. Linda had teased her mercilessly about it, but then Linda didn't understand. No one did. Once your life had been taken from you, your every moment given into the hands of strangers with clipboards and bureaucratic eyes . . . When you finally got it back, when your life was yours again, every moment, every detail, became important.
A quick survey of the small space told her that her laptop was where she'd left it, along with the few things she'd managed to stuff into her duffle before hurrying away from the duplex . . . not even two days ago? It felt like much longer than that. It didn't seem right that her entire world could be turned upside down in such a short time.
She pulled her duffle from under the bed and began repacking it, inventorying what she had, making a mental checklist of what she'd need to buy, matching it against her money. She'd have to stop at an ATM on her way out of town, and then first chance she got, she'd withdraw the entire amount through one of their brick and mortar locations. She'd pay an early fee for that, which seemed unfair, but at least she'd have all of it in cash, with no way for anyone to use the accounts to find her.
Shouldering her duffle and her laptop case, she checked the room one last time and slipped out to the mezzanine, closing the door behind her. The guards over by the TV looked up, and she thought at first they'd try to stop her, but she waved cheerfully, like it was no big deal and they relaxed. Holding her breath, she pulled open first one door and then the next, walked over to her car, beeped it open, threw her stuff inside and drove away. She didn't know where she'd go eventually, but she knew her first stop.
Raj might think this case had become too dangerous for her, but he didn't understand. The real danger was for Trish and whoever else was still being held by the vampires who'd thrown Regina away like yesterday's trash. And regardless of what Raj might think, Sarah wasn't running away this time.
As she drove through the sparse traffic, she flicked through her cell phone's call log until she found Jennifer Stewart's number again. It was way too late for Professor Stratton to be calling a student, but since Sarah wouldn't be a professor or a Stratton much longer, it didn't matter.
Jen's peppy voice answered. Sarah could hear music and laughter in the background and thought about how lovely it must be to be eighteen and carefree. Apparently, Trish's continued absence wasn't exactly weighing on her roommate's mind.
"Jennifer,” Sarah said, “Hi, this is Sarah Stratton, Professor Stratton?"
"Oh yeah,” Jen said, obviously confused and not terribly thrilled by the late-night call. “Hi, Professor Stratton."
"I just have a quick question, Jen. Raj asked me to call.” Okay, so it was a lie—a small, very white lie.
"Sure!” Jen's enthusiasm ratcheted up about a thousand notches. “Anything I can do!"
"Thanks, Jen. Listen, you were telling Raj about that blood house you visited, but there're a couple of them in that area, and we want to be sure we have the right one."
"Sure, I understand. It's that one in East Amherst, kind of a funky pointed house with a way disco vibe going inside. Totally old school."
"Mmhmm,” Sarah murmured. “Do you know the street?"
"Oh, let me think. I didn't drive and you know how it is."
"It's important, Jen,” Sarah said absently, driving past her old duplex. “We're very close and it could help us find Trish.” A little guilt never hurt.
"Oh, man. Trish. Yeah. Let's see, Evergreen or something Christmasy. Alpine! That was it. It was on Alpine, right off Stahley. I remember that ‘cuz one of my friends has that last name and I asked her if it was like her grandfather or something, but she said no."
Sarah figured between that and an online map, she could find the place. If worse came to worst, she'd just drive up and down the street looking for a pointed house with lots of people going in and out.
"Thanks, Jen. That really helps. And sorry for calling so late."
"Hey, no problem, Professor Stratton. It's spring break, ya know?"
"Right. Party on, Jen."
"Uh. Okay. Bye."
By that time, Sarah had pulled around and parked in the unlit alley behind her duplex. The front had been completely dark, suggesting Mrs. M. was either already asleep or still at her son's house. Sarah hoped it was the latter because the woman had ears like a bat.