Deceived By the Others - By Jess Haines Page 0,99

lap.

Sara cleared her throat a couple times before managing a hoarse, “Wow.”

“Mr. Pradiz’s death leads me to believe that you two are in more danger than I had originally estimated. I foresee difficulties ahead with the trouble the Were packs are stirring up. For your own protection, until I have a better idea of their plans and the effects of their actions, I need to ask you both to remain restricted to this building. If you are traced here, it could endanger not only you, but the others in this building. I won’t have that. You both must exhibit due care for our protection and security, as much as your own. Agreed?”

Sara nodded gravely, but I wasn’t happy with his pronouncement. It put too much of a damper on my plans. “For how long?”

“Just until I get a better grasp on the movements of the packs. Rohrik Donovan will be taking an interest in this, I’m sure. I can request his assistance to determine what the Sunstrikers and Ravenwoods are up to, and check with my sources with the police so I can plot a course of action. For now, you’re safe as long as no one knows you’re here.” He turned to me, his eyes glittering unnaturally in the dark. I suppressed a shiver, and met his gaze without flinching. What he was asking of us meant that, if he or one of the other vampires did something to harm us, no one would ever know. Though he spoke sense, we were essentially trapped in a building full of predators, with nowhere else to run.

“Shiarra, I’ll have someone move your car to a storage lot, so your presence should go unnoticed as long as you remain inside.”

That helpless anger I’d successfully clamped down on earlier was back with a vengeance. I was raging at being trapped, hating that Chaz might have been involved in the death of the reporter. I held my knees to keep from digging my nails into my palms again. There was no way to know for sure, not yet, but something deep down told me that Chaz knew about it, even if he hadn’t participated in the act of murder. Whatever he and the other Sunstrikers were up to had to stop. Others’ lives, including mine and Sara’s, depended on it.

After a few deep breaths, I calmed down enough to think of a coherent answer to give Royce.

“All right. No movies, no malls, no clubs. What about walking Sara’s dogs? They can’t stay inside all the time.”

“Someone else in the building can take them out when needed. Ivy offered to be your host while you’re here, so you can check with her about who is available.”

Sara nodded. Even in the dark, I could tell she’d gone pale, though there was no lack of determination in her voice. Either she hadn’t realized the depth of the pile of shit we’d landed in, or she was much better at coping with swimming in it than I was. “We’ll be careful. I need to make some calls, tell my sister and my boyfriend that I’m okay. A couple of police officers paid us a visit before we came here, too. Do you have a phone I can use?”

“There should be one hooked up in the kitchen of your apartment downstairs. You’re welcome to use it, as long as you bear in mind that you cannot give out the number or tell anyone where you are.”

“Not even Arnold?”

Royce frowned, considering the image of the reporter on his computer screen before responding. “It may not be wise. Chaz is aware of his connection to you, and, through you, to Shiarra. If the Sunstrikers put pressure on him, despite his best intentions he might let something slip.”

“He would never do such a thing!” Sara said. Her quiet vehemence didn’t sway the vampire.

“Even the most stoic can break when the correct leverage is applied, whether by torture or a threat to loved ones. You cannot be certain that he would be able to withstand whatever the Sunstrikers might attempt to do to him.”

The sick feeling that washed over me at the statement left me wanting to protest, to say that Chaz would never do such a thing. The sorry thing was, I didn’t know what Chaz—or the other Sunstrikers, for that matter—was capable of anymore. That any of the werewolves might stoop to such tactics was utterly reprehensible, but clearly not out of the realm of possibility considering how Jim Pradiz had

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