“I think he’s growing up.”
“Yeah.” There was a note of confusion in his voice. “Call when you need a ride. Call if someone else brings you home. Keep me informed.”
“Will do.” I opened the SUV door and scampered up the stairs and into the air lock in the foyer. Eli’s SUV motored away, the powerful engine thrumming steadily. I went through the meet-and-greet with the two newest twins. None of them were really related, but whoever put the teams together was going for a look-alike theme. This time the team was male and female, with long blond hair in ponytails, dark eyes, sculpted bodies, and similar heights, about five-ten or so, dressed in black. They looked polite and deadly, as if they’d smile convivially as they shot you dead.
I deposited my weapons and the leather file on the tables and the woman frisked me, still smiling. I needed to get up-to-date on the names of new security personnel, and make sure that only teams with the most experience got access to the doors. Good gatekeepers were a necessity and I hadn’t taken that into consideration when I redid the security protocol handbook. That was change number two. I hated the paperwork that went into being Leo’s part-time Enforcer. Old blood-servants weren’t always the easiest to retrain, and the ones in security needed to be flexible, hence me in the position, helping out the hundred-plus-year-old Bruiser, Leo’s primo. My weapons were locked away as I watched. “You are aware that in a security situation I’d get to keep my toys.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said together.
“Right this way, Ms. Yellowrock,” the woman said.
We entered the foyer and I stopped, closing my eyes and breathing in over my tongue. Vamp, blood, sex, vampvampvamp, food, blood, and vamp. No hint of Molly. No hint of magic on the air. And if the vamps Molly had left with were here, I didn’t know the scent sigs well enough to identify them. Just the stink of vamp that made me want to sneeze. I opened my eyes to see the security woman watching with undisguised curiosity. I narrowed my eyes at her and she took a step back fast. I flipped a hand, indicating I was ready to continue, and it was a moment before she turned on a heel and led me to the elevator in the back of the building. We went up a floor and down a hallway, to a room I hadn’t been in recently—the blood-servant lounge. She opened the door for me and the air that whiffed out smelled heavenly, of beef and pork chili with beans, rice, and beer. Yummy. I also smelled humans, human blood, human sweat, and blood-servants, scents that were axiomatic anywhere vamps laired.
I entered and stood to the side of the door, inside the spacious room. Two blood-servants were arm-wrestling, muscle-bound, bald, tattooed, and sweaty. On one large-screen TV a game was playing. A cooking show was on the other. The clack of pool balls breaking, an exhaust fan, and lots of voices filled the space, as potent as the smells. Though some of the occupants were in business black, most were dressed casually in jeans and tees, boots, barefoot, some of the guys in shorts and no shirt, one of the women in camo, boots, flak jacket, weapons, the works. The eyes of the men followed her around the room, which allowed me to watch them, unobserved.
My eyes fell on one familiar face, one that shouldn’t be here, no way, no how. Blond, blue eyed, sassy, elegant, and gorgeous, Adelaide Mooney hadn’t told me she was coming, even though I had seen her two weeks ago in Asheville.
I put two and two together with the info about Leo’s hostages from Lincoln Shaddock’s city, and felt a grin try to split my face apart, but I held it in and sauntered across the room. I drew on Beast’s stealth senses to help me move casually, smoothly, as if I belonged here. Which I did, sorta. I was nearly on her when Adelaide turned to me and lifted a delicate eyebrow. I so wished I could do that one-eyebrow thing, but it wasn’t something one could learn—the ability to lift one brow was genetic.
It was odd to look directly into the eyes of a woman. At six feet, I overtopped most females, and while I was never vain, looking directly at Adelaide Mooney always made me feel inferior and plain. Adelaide was drop-dead gorgeous, and since she was a blood-servant, that was funny on all sorts of levels.
“My mother said hello, and to remind you that she owes you one,” Del said, rather than a more conventional hello.
I blinked. I hadn’t expected her to lead with that. I had been part of the team that saved Dacy Mooney’s life, but the researcher who developed the vaccine cure for the vamp plague had really been the hero. All I’d done was help to get her treatment until the meds were ready, but somehow Dacy seemed to think it was all me and this wasn’t the first time she had sent thanks. “Okay. Sure. Whatever.” Man, was I charming and suave or what? “Ummm. You’re welcome. Again.”
That got me a smile and I rolled a shoulder in a shrug. “Buy you a beer?”
She laughed, that feminine tinkle-bell sound so many women could do, which I never had mastered. “Sure.” She reached into a refrigerated ice-filled bucket, one with beer labels on the sides, and pulled out two cold German ones. She twisted off the tops and I accepted mine. We clinked bottles and sipped. The brew was rich and malty and bubbly and delicious. Dang. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.
“So, you’re a hostage?” I asked.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. Luther Astor and I. He’s the Mithran donation, but it’s all very proper and polite. I get my job description tonight.”
“Who went to Asheville in your place?”
“Dominique and a human named Winston Beavers.”
I paused with the beer halfway to my mouth. Dominique was Grégoire’s heir, and with Grégoire in Atlanta, that left a hole in vamp politics in general and a huge hole in Clan Arceneau’s leadership. If I wasn’t mistaken, that meant that one of my archenemies—which sounded so comic bookish that I grinned—was in the leadership of one of the city’s most powerful clans. And the girls I was looking for had been on the way to that clan home to party-hearty after leaving Guilbeau’s—in a car with a redhead. Said archenemy was redheaded. Of course, I hadn’t actually talked to anyone who had seen them at the clan home party. All I had was indirect evidence and I knew better than to trust that. Well. Wasn’t that ducky? I wondered why I hadn’t been informed about all the changes in Clan Arceneau. Oh. Right. I wasn’t hanging around vamp central much these days.
“Hmmph,” I grunted, and sipped my beer. “You know anything about vamps from Texas being in town?” I asked.
“No. I’m still being read in, though. I’m supposed to attend this meeting tonight,” she said, “so I’m guessing I’ll be on security somehow.”
I chuckled and Adelaide laughed with me. She was a lawyer, not a shooter, and all I could think of was her stopping an intruder and making him sign a release form before belting him. I drained my beer and dropped the bottle into the empties bucket; it landed with a satisfying clink-clank. “Just to cover my bases, my friend Molly is in town and she went off with some vamps I didn’t recognize by scent.” And that felt all kinds of wrong to say aloud. “She wasn’t happy about leaving with them, though I’m not ready to call it kidnapping. Yet. Do you know anything about her?”
“No.” Del looked worried, which warmed my heart. I sucked at making and keeping friends, so it was nice to know someone cared about the people I cared about.
“We’ll get started when Derek—” The door opened, admitting Derek Lee and six of his men, all former active-duty Marines, all African-American, and each and every one badass to the soul.
Derek sought me out from the doorway. “Injun Princess,” he called out. It sounded like a barracks full of men being called to attention.
“Legs!” his men chorused loudly as they filed in.
All eyes in the room turned to me, and everyone and everything went mute, including the TVs. My palms started to sweat. I hated to be in charge of meetings. Derek, as if knowing what I was feeling, snorted in mildly malicious amusement. The seven were all dressed in night camo and looking so self-confident that the tattooed arm wrestlers puffed up like junkyard dogs.