long, and the other two vampire guards kept to themselves in the surveillance room.
That left the team in possession of the TV and the kitchen. Mike poked around in the refrigerator, and Russell recruited players for a poker game. Prince Daron and his court came through the hidden door about 6:15. As usual, they had little to say and headed straight toward The Blue Room, where the prince often conducted court business. Andreas still didn’t appear.
Another hour passed. Ari rubbed the back of her neck, her tension growing with Andreas’s continued absence. He finally strode through the door, his stride brisk, all business. He nodded to Ari before disappearing into The Blue Room. He wasn’t gone long. When he returned, he stopped in the doorway. “Ready?”
He hustled her down the hall and opened the tunnel that led to Club Dintero.
“Has something happened? First you’re late, now the tunnel?” When he didn’t answer, she peered inside. “Are there spiders?”
That brought a faint smile to his face. “I will go first.”
Ari followed, keeping away from the walls. “Why so late?”
“Business,” was his terse reply.
“Ours or yours?”
He ignored that, turned on a large Maglite, and started down the tunnel. Ari hurried to catch him. For the first two or three minutes, the passage was a simple wood-framed hallway, wide enough to accommodate two people walking abreast. As they angled downward, the floor turned to dirt, and rock replaced the wood walls. On occasion Andreas ducked to avoid overhead rocky protrusions. The air was stale, stuffy, and the number of spider webs Andreas swept down with the Maglite spoke of the tunnel’s long disuse. Ari watched for the web spinners, hoping to avoid any close encounters. The floor tilted upward again, the air freshened, and they arrived at the trap door in Andreas’s office. The entire trip had taken no more than ten minutes.
“Now that’s over, will you tell me what’s going on?” Ari said as she brushed dust from her clothes. “It’s obvious something’s wrong.”
“As soon as I return,” he promised. “Just a few minutes.”
Ari protested, but it was too late. Andreas had already disappeared.
With time on her hands, she cleaned up in the nearby bathroom, chose a fresh blouse from the bag she’d brought from her apartment, and even ran a comb through her hair. She checked her watch. Six minutes had passed. Now what?
Too restless to sit and wait, Ari wandered the room, absently letting her fingers trail over the surprisingly modern paintings composed in an array of jewel-tone colours. Her mind tossed around possible reasons for Andreas’s mood. Some club problem? No. He would have said so. Some vampire issue unrelated to recent events? Maybe. But no, that couldn’t be it. He said he’d tell her. And in spite of how much he’d recently shared, Andreas wasn’t about to divulge vampire business unless he had to. So it must be connected to Sebastian or the wolves. Had he found the spy? Had someone else been killed? Why all the mystery?
* * *
She’d about run out of speculations when Andreas returned. He’d changed into a black sports jacket, and he was smiling. She didn’t know how to interpret that.
“I would wager you are starved,” he said. “A table awaits us.”
“Us? You’re joining me?” He didn’t do that often. In fact, the only time they’d spent more than a few minutes together in the dining room was the night of Victor’s interview. How long ago that seemed.
“If you do not object to my company.” He held out an arm.
Ari flashed him a smile and walked by, ignoring the arm. She wasn’t particularly fashion conscious, but she drew the line at a man in Armani escorting her in stonewashed jeans. He chuckled and followed her into the dining room. They were given a cozy corner table. As soon as they were seated, drinks appeared. Cabernet for her, Chianti for him. She sipped her drink and watched him. Andreas was pensive tonight.
Ari wondered if it was the mysterious business that was bothering him. Hopefully he would tell her in time. She glanced around the room. Business was good; the club was packed. There was a new maitre’d at the door. “Where’s Victor?”
An emotion flickered across Andreas’s face that she couldn’t identify.
“An overnight buying trip to Chicago.”
“So who’s the host?”
Now Andreas smiled. “I am not surprised you failed to recognize him. The last time you saw Marcus was the night of his rescue.”
“Marcus!” She turned to look again. “He’s recovered completely. It’s amazing! What a