Thomas shook his head with a frown. "It couldn't have been."
"Who else would be after her?" He saw that the man wasn't convinced he was right and didn't have time to argue about it. "We can worry about who later; right now Lissianna needs blood." He hesitated, then added, "I'd appreciate your help with this, but only if you promise you won't call or take us anywhere near your uncle or Marguerite. If you can't promise, then I'm taking her out of here right now and--"
"Okay. I promise," Thomas said quickly, as Greg reached for the door handle.
He hesitated.
"I promise," he repeated, then pulled his keys from a pocket and started the Jeep engine, only to pause.
"What's the matter?" Greg asked.
"I'm trying to decide where to take her."
"Not back to her mother's," Greg said firmly. He wasn't giving them the opportunity to finish what they'd started.
"No. I couldn't take you there anyway. Lissianna would never forgive me if something happened to you," he said, then Thomas shifted the Jeep into gear and pulled out into the scanty traffic of the early-morning Toronto streets.
"Where are we going?" Greg asked.
"To Mirabeau's," he answered. "After Lucian and Marguerite finished raking us over the coals for standing back and allowing you two to run away, Mira decided she might have overstayed her welcome. I drove her home earlier this evening. She'll help."
Greg nodded and relaxed wearily in his seat for the ride, knowing everything would be all right. Mirabeau would be willing to help them, more importantly, she would have blood.
"I don't have any blood."
"What?" Thomas and Greg asked the question at the same time, both of them staring at Mirabeau with disbelief and horror as they each straightened from opposite sides of the bed where she'd had them place Lissianna.
Mirabeau's home turned out to be a large penthouse apartment just a couple of blocks from Greg's place. It had only taken minutes to get here, but on realizing it was also set up with a doorman as his place was, Greg had worried about getting inside without the police being called in. While the black shirt he'd put on Lissianna hid the blood that was seeping through the towel over her wound, his white shirt didn't, and it was sporting a huge red patch where he'd pressed Lissianna to him to get out of the Jeep. He'd been positive the doorman would take one look at that, then at Lissianna's pale deathlike features and pick up his phone to call the police. However, Greg had forgotten who he was with.
Thomas had ushered him to the door, cast one glance at the approaching doorman, and the man had turned and walked back to his station without a word. Lissianna's cousin had obviously put the whammy on him. The doorman hadn't even glanced at them after that. Greg sus-pected the fellow wouldn't even have a memory of their passing.
"I was expecting a delivery Saturday morning," Mirabeau announced. "But I wasn't here to get it."
No, she'd been at Marguerite's all weekend, Greg realized, then glanced down at Lissianna with concern as she moaned. She'd started to moan shortly before they'd arrived at Mirabeau's, the sound drawing a concerned mutter from Thomas about nanos.
When Greg had asked him what was going on, Thomas had explained that when the nanos couldn't find enough blood in the veins, they'd begin attacking the organs to get what they needed. Lissianna would be in terrible pain until they could get blood into her. Enough pain that it was drawing moans from the nearly dead.
"You don't have any at all?" Thomas asked.
Mirabeau shook her head, then admitted, "I had two bags left when I got home, but..." She shrugged helplessly. "I got hungry."
"Damn." Thomas raked one hand through his hair, "She needs blood."
"Go get some from the Argeneau blood bank," Mirabeau suggested.
"No, that's no good," Greg said sharply.
"Why not? He has a key."
"Greg thinks Uncle Lucian was behind this," Thomas explained.
Mirabeau's eyes widened incredulously, then she shook her head. "No. I don't believe it. Did you see who did it?"
"No." Greg shook his head. "They'd left by the time I got to the living room."
"Well it couldn't have been one of our people," Mirabeau said with certainty. "It just couldn't. I mean... Why would they? And if so, why not finish the job? If they were one of us, they'd know she could come back from a staking. And why didn't they touch you?" she asked. "You're the one who's considered a threat."
"I don't know," Greg admitted wearily. "But I also don't know of anyone else who would want to hurt her."