Witching Time (The Wild Hunt #14) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,63

sure what I was looking for. Perhaps a glimmer that said he wouldn’t leave me, that he would stay. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, or that I didn’t feel our relationship mattered to him. But my mother had loved me and she had still had to leave. And Ulstair had loved me, and he had died. And now, my father—who loved me—was going away.

“Drive safe. Remember to wand down your car, love.” Kipa slowly stepped back.

I gulped back a stray tear, breathing deeply to steady myself. “I will. Are you going into work today?”

He shook his head. “No, I have errands to run today. Call me if you need me, and for the sake of the gods, don’t go out to the farm again unless I’m with you, all right?”

I promised him, then said good-bye to Raj and my father, gathered my purse and jacket, and headed out to my car. My father’s RV was parked at the end of the cul-de-sac, which was right next to my house, and I stared at it, long and hard, wondering how hard it would be to turn it into one of those tiny houses. We could buy up a lot near here and…I promptly nixed the idea. It was impractical and Curikan needed unpopulated land to live on. I waved to Meadow, who was out checking her mail. Then easing out of the driveway, I headed out for Seattle.

Seattle was bustling. Even with news of the dragons, the city was swarming with people. But there was something different about the energy. I frowned, gazing at the expressions on the shoppers’ faces as they hurried past me. I found a place to park near the Viaduct Market and, as I watched the throngs of shoppers, it occurred to me that it wouldn’t be difficult for aliens to enslave the planet. People heard disturbing news and just let it pass through one ear and out the other. They didn’t want to be inconvenienced. Instead, they went about business as usual, and I was pretty sure most of them only gave a fleeting thought to the dangers we were facing.

I locked my car and headed into the Market. It was nine-fifteen, and I had about thirty minutes to shop before I had to head into the Catacombs to talk to Wager. He wasn’t a vampire, but he worked among them, and he had a good working relationship with two of the muckety-mucks at the Vampire National Bank. They had funded his business. Even though he had long ago repaid his debt, Wager had an affinity for the vampires and they sent a lot of business his way.

I headed into the Art Shack, one of the secret entrances into the Catacombs that covered as a makeshift art studio. Vivian, the main guard, posed as a teacher and discouraged anybody from hanging around.

Even though she recognized me, I flashed her my badge and she motioned me through the curtained-off back room that led to the elevator and stairs heading down into the Catacombs.

There were “legal” entrances, where most people entered and exited the underground labyrinth running below Seattle. But there were plenty of hidden passages, used by those looking to enter and exit without being spotted. While I had no reason to hide my comings and goings, I still was cautious about using public gateways because a lot of scammers and con artists manned those entrances, looking for prey. And some of them were black marketeers looking for sex slaves or worse.

Wager’s office was on Sub-Level 2.

Exiting the elevator, I headed at a good clip toward his office. I had learned a number of things about hanging around vampires.

Always look like you know what you’re doing.

Always act like you’re on your way to a meeting—that someone’s expecting you.

Never gaze a vampire in the eye because their glamour can put you at risk.

Never enter the Catacombs with the scent of blood on you.

Never wear silver if you’re going to visit a vampire.

There were a host of rules and I had committed most of them to heart. The last thing I wanted was for a vampire to target me.

I entered the waiting room of Wager’s office and stopped cold. A young man around twenty, by the looks of him, sat at the receptionist’s desk. He was gorgeous, with tanned skin and long wavy black hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. He was also muscled, with deep brown eyes and a brilliant smile. In all the years