SINGLE WHITE VAMPIRE Page 0,71

A delivery came while you were gone." He gestured to a large box on the table by the window. "It's addressed to Lucern Argeneau c/o Kate C. Leever. I guess your brother must have re-sent it. He must have figured everything out on his own." He frowned at his words, then shook his head. "Though, I guess the first box couldn't have got back to him yetit's only been a day." He shrugged. "He must just have sent you something else."

Kate wasn't listening. She was gaping at the box on the table with disbelief. It had "A.B.B." stamped on its side. Argeneau Blood Bank? Dear God. All that stress and anxiety had been for nothing.

Chapter Twelve

Lucern glanced across the hospitality suite to where Kate was talking to Deanna Stancyk. Kate was easy to find in her sunny yellow skirt and matching jacket, aglow with life and vitality, smiling, her face animated, her hands moving as she talked and laughed. She was beautiful. Just looking at her caused an ache in Luc's chest. Although it could be indigestion, he thought, recalling the greasy breakfast he'd eaten that morning.

Kate had been terribly quiet with him since they'd returned to the suite last night to find the box from Bastien. She hadn't even followed him into his room to see for sure what the box held, but had merely handed him the backpack with the six bags of stolen blood, murmured good night and slipped into her room. Which had turned the night flat for Lucern.

He'd unpacked the box in his room and stored all the bloodfrom their adventure as well as from Bastienin the mini fridge. He'd had to remove everything from the fridge to do so. He'd stacked the cans of pop, the little bottles of alcohol and the snacks on the dresser, and then had wandered to the living room and dropped onto the couch to watch TV with Chris for a while, hoping Kate would reappear. She hadn't.

The temptation to go to her had been strong. With his need for blood satisfied, Lucern had found other cravings bothering himtop among them to just be in Kate's presence. Her company somehow made him feel lighter, younger. As if he hadn't existed six hundred years and become weary of living. The woman was playing havoc on his psyche.

After watching a bad vampire moviedear God, why was the vampire always the villain?Lucern had left Chris and gone to bed. He'd awoken early, consumed a couple more bags of blood, put the Do Not Disturb signs on both his door to the hall and the one leading into the living area of the suiteso that the cleaning lady wouldn't find his blood in the fridge and pitch a fitthen had joined Kate and Chris to head out for breakfast.

The three of them had eaten in the main dining room, joined by a handful of other Roundhouse authors. Lucern hadn't said much at the meal, just listened with interest as Kate and Chris talked to the others. It was then that he'd realized how much of their time he was monopolizing. They were babysitting him as if he were a child. He'd almost felt shame.

His pride had made itself known, then, and when they'd all moved on to the hospitality suite, Lucern had insisted that Kate circulate and talk to her other writers, telling her he could take care of himself. She'd appeared torn, but at last had given in to the need to spend time with as many authors as she could. She glanced his way often, stopping by occasionally to make sure he was all right, but she had spent the better part of the morning circulating the room, talking and laughing, reassuring and praising.

Chris, too, had gone about his business, tending to his own authors, leaving Lucern to sit with the writers with whom they'd breakfasted. Luc had spent the morning mostly listening, only commenting once in a while. These were nice women, interesting and creative, and they had included him in their circle without question. But they also tended to act a touch protective toward him, helping him handle his never-ending droves of fans.

He appreciated their assistance, but Lucern was starting to get something of a complex. Why did everyone think he needed protecting? They acted like he was fragile andhe shudderedsensitive. Lucern was the least sensitive man he knew. Why, in his youth he'd been a warrior, thinking nothing of hacking men down with his sword. When pistols