Camille was lovely, of course. Petite and delicate, with a tiny waist and overflowing breasts, her lush lips painted red, her black hair falling in graceful waves down her back. She’d laughed at something Vincent said and heads had turned at the sound. Vincent’s smile had grown wider and he’d brushed the back of his fingers over the woman’s elegant cheek, murmuring something for her ears only.
Lana had felt the touch of those fingers like a punch to her gut. She hadn’t meant to make a sound, but she must have, because Vincent’s head had turned, and in that first unguarded moment, she’d seen the guilt in his eyes. And suddenly, the whispering voice in the back of her brain, the one she’d convinced herself was wrong because she’d wanted so much to stay with Vincent, had become a warning shriek, reinforcing what she’d known all along. She truly didn’t belong here.
Lana had forced herself to walk down that hallway, to hold out her hand and be polite. But when Vincent had tried to touch her, when he’d given her that hurt look as she’d avoided his hand, she’d known she had to get away before she started screaming.
She’d mumbled something polite, then, taking advantage of the distraction provided when Michael whispered something in Vincent’s ear, she’d ducked into the stairwell and been gone, the heavy door slamming behind her.
And now she was racing down the stairs, expecting at every turn to hear him following, to hear his voice calling her name, but he never did. She had to decide what to do, where to go from here. Her best bet would be to wait until sunrise, go back to the penthouse, pack her things, and leave. She no longer believed Vincent would try to stop her from going. Now that his vampire girlfriend was here, he’d probably be relieved to discover she was gone, that she’d made it so easy for him.
She kept moving, her feet keeping pace with her thoughts which were running too fast and making no sense.
Before she knew it, the bodyguard was opening the door to the first floor, reminding her that he was still with her. She’d forgotten all about him for a moment. His name was Jeff Garcia and he’d been with Vincent for almost four years. What would Jeff do if she headed for the airport? Would he try to stop her? Go with her? Once she left Mexico, she wouldn’t need a bodyguard anymore. She wasn’t even sure she needed one now.
Lana paused for a moment, one hand covering her closed eyes. She needed to think about what she was doing. She was letting emotion carry her instead of reason, running scared. Running being the operative word. She needed to stop and think. She became aware of the smell of chlorine, the muted echo of water against tile. Opening her eyes, she realized that the stairwell opened directly into the pool area. Through a wall of windows to her right was the main part of the gym, with the usual equipment and a few hardy souls getting in a workout before sunrise. She assumed they were all vampires, but it was possible some of them were human guards like Jeff.
No one was using the pool.
She’d come down here to swim, and that’s what she was going to do. Without even thinking about it, she threw her towel on a chaise and stripped off her sweatshirt. She sat down to step out of the pants, not because she had to, but because she didn’t want Jeff to see that she had her little Spyderco knife tucked into the little inside pocket on the sweatpants. The pocket had been designed to carry keys and maybe a cell phone, but Lana had always thought a knife was more useful. And bodyguard or no, she wasn’t going anywhere without some kind of weapon. She folded the pants carefully, then stood up to survey the pool. She was wearing a simple black one-piece suit that she’d bought from a shop right next to the grocery store where she’d gone earlier. She tugged it down over her ass somewhat self-consciously. She was in good shape, but the suit was cut a little higher than what she normally wore.
She tugged on the cheap bathing cap she’d bought with the suit, then with a nod to Jeff, who had taken up a position at the door they’d just come through, Lana stepped up to the edge and dove in. Swimming was like meditation for her. After the first few strokes, she didn’t have to think about it anymore, didn’t hear the nagging voice in the back of her mind, didn’t see the affection on Vincent’s face, the softness of his words when he’d touched the woman, Camille, upstairs. She simply moved through the water, falling into the familiar rhythm of a forward crawl . . . stroke, breathe, stroke, breathe, hit the wall, turn, glide, and start all over again. She swam until her muscles began to burn, and then she swam some more, until her strokes were no longer smooth, her turns no longer graceful.
When she hit the wall on her next lap, she stopped, hanging onto the side of the pool, breathing in the chlorine smell of the water as the exhaustion started to creep in. She might not be a vampire, but she’d been living like one for the last week, which meant she’d been up all night and her body needed sleep.
And, at some point during her swim, her brain had reached a decision, or maybe it was her heart. As easy and uncomplicated as it would be, she didn’t have it in her to creep away without saying good-bye to Vincent, without any explanation at all. Maybe they were only partners, after all, but even a partner deserved the respect of a decent farewell.
Lana sighed, knowing what she was going to do, what she had to do.
“What time is it?” she asked Jeff, who was standing exactly where he’d been when she started swimming.
He gave her a crooked smile and said, “Nearly sunrise. The vamps have deserted the gym.”
Lana pulled herself out of the water. It took more effort than it should have and it occurred to her that she might have done a few laps more than her body could handle. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about her mind keeping her awake today. The only thought in her head right now was sleep.
She pushed to her feet with an effort and wrapped herself in the big towel, jerking off the uncomfortable bathing cap and tossing it in the trash. She thought about hitting the elevator without getting dressed, but there were a whole lot of people she didn’t know between her and her bed, so she dragged her sweats back on, not caring that her suit was still wet.
“Let’s go,” she told Jeff, pressing the towel around the wet braid of her hair.
Jeff was talking to someone on the Bluetooth bud in his ear. Lana waited patiently, leaning against the wall, because she worried if she sat down, she’d simply fall over, asleep, and not get up again.
Jeff touched the bud in his ear, disconnecting the call. “The elevators are locked upstairs,” he said, shaking his head in sympathy. “Some big vampire honcho getting ready to depart. You up for the stairs?”
Lana looked from him to the stairwell door, thinking, Hell, no. But what she said was, “Sure.”
He gave a sympathetic chuckle as Lana opened the door to the stairs.
“Lana,” Jeff said urgently and she remembered he was supposed to go first. But then a movement in the stairwell drew her attention, and she stared in shock at the person standing there.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she heard Jeff curse, and then the jagged sound of a Taser filled the concrete stairwell.
Chapter Twenty-Four
VINCENT PACED AS the shutters deployed over the windows. Where the hell was Lana? He’d called her cell phone, but there’d been no answer. So he’d tried Jeff Garcia and got no answer there either. GPS on both phones told him they were in the building, but he couldn’t discover anything more specific than that, and now sunrise was about to take away his ability to go looking for them. He could still ask his daytime security people to find them, but he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to announce to everyone that his lover was avoiding him. His phone rang. It was Michael with a final check-in. His lieutenant was young as vampires went, which meant he’d crash into daylight sleep well before Vincent did.
“Mike,” he answered tersely.
“Building’s locked down. No one in or out until sunset. How’d it go with Tulio?”
“He’s onboard for now. But he’s hedging his bet. He’ll be at Enrique’s when we get there, but won’t visibly side with us.”