attention to feng shui and the flow of energy. The atrium was lined with modern art. Despite the airiness, the place was terrifying, and not just for the blatant display of money; the entire feeling of it was heartless and cold. She understood why people in town called the agency “The Forbidden Planet.”
She sensed movement above her and looked up as a young, bright-eyed and hard-edged assistant came down the stairs to meet her. Barrie recognized him instantly as a shifter, and the way he eyed her made her think that he recognized her as a Keeper, too, though he didn’t say anything of the sort. Instead they made small talk about the traffic as he led her up the broad spiraling staircase to the second floor, where he ushered her into the inner sanctum.
It was an exquisite office: huge, with a wraparound wall of windows that looked out over the city. Designer chairs were set in front of the chrome-and-glass desk; a spacious conversation area boasted a full stereo, wide-screen system and a wet bar; and another door led to a private bathroom.
Darius turned from one of the glass walls as she walked in. He was a little over six feet, a striking man with sharp hazel eyes and dark, slightly graying hair, who radiated the dangerous sensuality of his kind. Barrie had no idea how old he was; with vampires, any guess would almost surely be wrong. The overwhelming aura was power, a feral and dangerous charisma. Combine a superagent with a vampire and multiply by ten, and that was Darius.
He stopped a few feet in front of her and looked her over. It was not a sexual look; Barrie felt more that her every physical characteristic was being assessed and assigned a monetary value. She half expected him to ask her to open her mouth and show him her teeth. She was willing herself not to redden when finally he spoke.
“You Gryffald girls did well in the gene pool. If you ever decided to give up this Keeper business, I could have you all up on-screen in no time, not just Sailor.”
She had to suppress a shudder at the thought. Her mother had wanted the acting life, and because of that Barrie knew too much about it ever to be tempted. Besides, she knew full well that Darius hadn’t exactly supercharged Sailor’s career to date, and he could have if he’d chosen to.
“I’ll stick to being a Keeper,” she said with a forced smile. “Acting’s riskier.”
“Perhaps,” he said cryptically.
He raised an elegant, long-fingered hand, motioning her to the conversation area of low couches and designer chairs, and remained standing until she sat, a chivalry that always threw her. When she was settled on a sofa, he seated himself in the largest chair. Earlier the assistant had placed drinks on the table in front of them: sparkling water for her and a tall glass of red liquid for Darius. She knew better than to ask.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she began. “I—”
“Sailor tells me you have questions about Otherworld,” he said bluntly, before she could finish the sentence.
Time is money, I guess, she thought.
“Is this something to do with Saul Mayo’s death?” he demanded. Well, not exactly demanded, but his tone was challenging, to say the least.
“It’s possible,” she said, and was proud of herself for her cool tone.
His eyes narrowed. “My dear, you’re a shifter Keeper. Mayo was not Other. I’m aware that you’re new to your calling, but may I remind you that it’s not part of your job description to investigate mortal passings?”
“I’m not investigating Mayo,” she said, and could see that her brevity was getting under Darius’s skin. She didn’t want to alienate him, but she wasn’t about to tell him about Tiger, either. “But since we’re on the subject...you knew him well, didn’t you?”
“Professionally,” he said. “We’ve done quite a bit of business together.”
“Do you think he was murdered?” she asked point-blank.
He smiled slowly, and for a moment, only because she knew to look, she caught the gleam of fangs.
“Almost certainly,” he said. “Half the town wanted him dead. The trouble would be finding someone with the actual balls to do it.”
She had to suppress a shiver.
Darius looked at her. “But we’re not talking about Mayo, are we?”
Barrie recovered herself. “No. This is a possibly related incident. A suspicious death that seems to be tied to Otherworld.”
He flicked a hand dismissively. “I’ve heard that rumor. That someone had Mayo killed because of the