Midnight Lover - Rosemary Laurey

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insistence he sign for, and accept, a receipt almost drove him to the edge.

      Granger Fox snapped his cell phone shut. Interesting, and the perfect out from the unpleasantness looming ahead. A suspicious fire on the outskirts of Dark Falls was good enough reason to dash over and see what sort of story he could find. He had a legitimate excuse not to obey the order to return to Axel and report, but the compulsion was too strong.

      He could no more disobey than fly.

      He drove the remaining distance to the newspaper office and braced himself. He had failed and deserved the coming chastisement.

      “She what?” Axel’s eyes blazed almost red as he glared. “You were told to see she obeyed. Maybe I need to encourage her.”

      “No!” He wasn’t that far gone to let Axel have his hands on Laura. “She’ll get what you want. There was coming and going all night. She didn’t want to risk getting caught. That wouldn’t help, would it?”

      Axel’s silent shrug implied little concern over any possible awkwardness for Laura. “She’d better get me something tonight, without fail.”

      “She promised, didn’t she? My Laura will come up with something.” He so hoped.

      “So”—the light in Axel’s eyes turned to a feral gleam—“come here, Granger. Take off your shirt.”

      It was what Granger Fox feared, loathed, dreaded…and yearned for as much as air and sunshine. His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned his checked shirt. He pulled it off his arms and, still holding his shirt by the collar, looked up at Axel.

      “Your left arm this time, I think.”

      Taking a deep breath, Granger stepped forward and held out his left arm. A cold hand grabbed his upper arm and yanked him close. He held his breath, bracing for the pain as Axel’s fangs scraped skin. Granger winced, almost suppressed the groan and shuddered as Axel sucked hard, pulling at the flesh until the skin tore more and Granger cried out.

      He could have screamed, for all the difference it made. Axel fed, taking what he wanted while Granger waited, passive, steadying himself on the desk with his free hand.

      Then, as always, through the pain and hurt came a flicker of pleasure, like a match in pitch dark. Granger exhaled as the slender dart of sensation became a raging blaze. For a few, brief moments, he rode the wave of ecstasy, until Axel abruptly pulled his mouth away and Granger was jerked back to the reality of a messy office and an unwritten story.

      Axel reached for the dropped shirt and wiped his mouth with it before tossing it to Granger. “Better get dressed. Might shock the populace to find you in your undershirt.”

      Giddy and lightheaded, Granger sank into the desk chair and reached into a drawer for the tissues he kept for these moments. As Axel slammed the door behind him, Granger held a wodge of tissues to the still-seeping wound. It would soon stop bleeding. It always did. But his arm—heck, both arms, legs and chest were a mass of scars and fading bruises. If he had any sense he’d refuse Axel before the man bled him to death. But that had never happened. Denying Axel was beyond his strength. He needed Axel, dreaded being abandoned, and for him to keep Axel, Laura had to come up to snuff.

      What a day! Talk about an insane twenty-four hours. Toby scowled at the phone. He’d had a panic-stricken phone call, faced down a decidedly venal deputy, rescued Adela from a witch hunt, witnessed arson, fought a filthy mythical beast, found the woman he’d developed a tendre for rifling though his filing cabinets, and had his home invaded by the FBI. On top of all that, he had to call Vlad Tepes.

      He should be able to manage that. Might even actually get a couple of hours in at the office if he looked lively, not that it really was worth it at this point and—damn! He’d forgotten that Adela was still down on the beach waiting for him to give the all clear.

      Still, it was a nice morning. Alright, a nice afternoon. She could wait. She owed him, whereas he was in Vlad’s territory.

      First, he called the office. Sarah Wallace’s “Hello, Mr. Wise’s office. May I help you?” was the best reminder of normality he’d had all day.

      “Sarah, Toby here. I’m not coming in today. Our friends Healy and Bright were here at the house.”

      Her snort showed what she thought of the FBI. “They’re here right now, grabbing and snatching and waving search warrants and I don’t know what. I feel sorry for the cleaning crew this evening. The place is in a shambles.”

      “Tell maintenance to send in extra teams if needed, and ask everyone there to tidy up their own areas as best they can. Let the marauders take whatever they want. Just be sure they leave the coffeemakers. I don’t want a staff revolt tomorrow morning.”

      Her snort suggested she didn’t appreciate levity. “They are taking computers, backup drives, disks. It’s ridiculous!”

      He agreed and wondered how many months it would take them to realize they were barking up an empty tree. “Let them have their fun. There’s nothing there to find. Just do your best to see people don’t get too upset.”

      “I’ll do my best….” She would.

      “I’ll be in early.” Maybe even before dawn. Doing his best to convince her to persuade everyone else not to worry. Toby hung up.

      Now to explain what was going on (or as much of it as Toby knew or hypothesized) to the Lord of Wallachia.

      Chapter 6

      Vlad was a darn good listener. Toby made his report as brief as possible but was still pretty involved and based, he realized, on Laura’s word and the coincidence of a surname.

      It was more than enough for Vlad Tepes.

      “I’ll send Zeke down to see what’s going on. Better an unknown investigate than you, who plan to stay awhile. Zeke can poke and pry and ask nosy questions, then report what’s happening.” Nothing like seizing the moment. “And just in case he does find an intruder, Larouselière will be on his way too.”

      Short but seldom sweet, Vlad rang off. Toby was covered now and, with a bit of luck, Vlad would take care of everything, and leave Toby to concentrate on Connor Inc. and the FBI. More than enough for one vampire.

      As Toby headed for the beach to give Adela the all clear, he couldn’t help wondering how Etienne Larouselière, who seldom left France and never, to Toby’s knowledge, ventured beyond Europe, was in obligation to Vlad Tepes.

      Not that he didn’t have far more pressing things on his mind. Between the FBI, arson, a venal deputy and now a vampire poaching in his borrowed territory, it was just as well he wasn’t hampered with mortal limitations.

      He’d rather fancied descending the cliff head first, à la Bram Stoker, but, since there was a mother watching three small children digging in the sand, he came down the steps mortal style.

      Adela was sitting, perched on rocks on the far side of the beach. “I watched them leave,” she said, looking up at the road bridge that spanned high over the inlet. “Looked like a convoy leaving. Did they strip the house?”

      “We still have beds and a refrigerator, and I think they left the bathrooms intact.”

      She shook her head and sighed. “Is Piet okay?”

      “Thankfully, he was oblivious to most of it. He started fretting at all the noise and doors banging, but the nurse calmed him down and one good thing: ten minutes attempted conversation and they decided he was no longer a good source of information. I doubt they’ll subpoena him anytime soon.”

      “What about you?”

      “I’m not worried. Not now. At least the house is clear. Want to come back and try to sort out your complication?”

      “I called Gertrude while I was waiting.” Her mobile was still in her hand. “She was shocked and upset, as you’d expect,

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