"Sure,” she said, puzzled. “I'm parked out back."
"Perfect."
* * * *
Eckhoff put a companionable arm around her and pulled her close as the station house door closed behind them. “You wanna be careful talking about the Russians around here, Cyn,” he murmured softly. “They've got someone feeding them from the inside, and we can't figure out who it is. They've pulled everyone from this division."
Cynthia laughed up at him, as if they were having a lighthearted conversation. “How long?” she asked.
"Couple of months, maybe more. How much do you know?"
"Not much. I've got two names. One's pretty solid, guy's name is Kolinsky. The other's a long shot. Pushkin. And a possible hit on a phony export company over in East L.A. Pretty weak, but it's all I've got so far."
"I don't know anybody named Pushkin, but Kolinsky runs out of Odessa Exports over on Vermont.” Bingo, Cyn thought. “I probably have a mug shot handy; I'll fax it to you. He's not the top guy,” Eckhoff continued. “But he's pretty damn close. Your friend Carballo would know more. I hear they've got her working that side of town these days."
"Benita?"
"The only one I know."
"That's not her usual beat."
"Hey, I don't ask questions. But I'm pretty sure it's reliable. Listen, Cyn. That's a bad crew. These Russian guys are some bloodthirsty motherfuckers. You don't go in there alone, you hear me? Even if it's only to ask questions, you take some of those vamps along. I hear they put even the Colombians to shame."
"Thanks, Dean. I owe you one. You give your girlfriend an extra belly rub for me.” She grinned, then stood on her toes and kissed his freckled cheek.
"No respect. Take care, grasshopper. I mean it."
Cyn did a mock little bow, her hands palm to palm in front of her. She strode across the parking lot to her own car, the setting sun nearly blinding her. She climbed inside and flipped down the visor, then turned the ignition and headed toward Malibu. The vampires would be waking soon and it was time to play with some bad guys.
Chapter Twenty-six
Cyn turned off the highway and dropped down the short drive to her condo, fumbling for the opener in her SUV's center console. Her headlights swept over the closed garage door, and she looked up automatically as she clicked the device. She swore softly. A familiar long, black limo was parked against the ice plant-covered hill, and she didn't need her headlights to identify the small mountain standing next to it. Juro. Which meant ... the limo door opened as she drove past and she caught a glimpse of broad shoulders and dark hair. Of course.
She parked the Land Rover and was swinging her long legs out of the truck when Raphael strolled into the garage. Well, damn. The vampire lord was dressed all in black, from his long-sleeved t-shirt to his oh-so-tight denims and smooth leather boots. And over it all, he wore an ankle-length coat of black leather that just begged to be touched, smelled, rubbed all over one's body. Down, girl.
She met Raphael's eyes, letting her appreciation show. Why pretend? The vampire lord returned the compliment, sweeping his gaze the length of her body, lingering on her bare legs beneath the short, slim skirt, before traveling up to meet her eyes in turn. “Good evening, Cyn,” he said in a voice that promised so much more than merely good. “What do you have for me?"
Cynthia stared at the beautiful male specimen in front of her. Vampire or not, Raphael was fully, gloriously male. There was no doubt of that. Nor of the instant, almost irresistible, attraction she felt toward him. She gave a nearly desperate, sobbing laugh at her own helpless reaction to him. Behind him, Duncan gave her a scandalized look, but Raphael merely laughed with her. He was an arrogant son of a bitch; he understood perfectly.
Cyn took a deep breath and kneaded her forehead, trying to rub some sanity into her brain. “Listen,” she said, with a glance at Duncan. “I'm sorry about last night, the whole thing with Judkins—” She looked up to find Raphael only inches away. He smiled.
"Sweet Cyn.” He touched one cool finger to her cheek, the softest touch. “A misunderstanding."
She looked into his eyes and felt herself falling. She looked away, conscious of the other vampires watching. “I've got a location for Kolinsky,” she said, breathlessly. “I came home to change clothes..."
"What a shame,” Raphael murmured.
Her heart thumped and she scowled at him. “...and then I'm going to go check it out."
Raphael frowned. “Not alone, surely."
Cynthia gave him a genuine smile. He cared. “No, actually, I was going to call and see if you could send a couple of your vamps along. It strikes me they might be handy in a fight."
"Indeed. How many do you need?"
Cynthia thought about it. Mob guys tended to hang around in clumps, all that testosterone in one place made everyone feel like they had more. All the bad guys, anyway. On the other hand, Raphael's men were pretty lethal, and she certainly didn't want a bloodbath, if she could avoid it. Not that the city wouldn't benefit from fewer gangsters hanging around, but it might look suspicious right after she'd been asking questions.
"I think four would be enough. Probably more than enough, but two can hang back in case I need them. Better safe than sorry."