скачать книгу бесплатно
From his corner of the room, Garner snorted.
“Okay, then you’ll think I’m nuts.”
“We don’t do that, either,” Chloe said, sending a significant look to Creed. Just as he wondered what she meant, she added, “Do we, Creed?”
“Um, no.” From Chloe’s look he could tell he was required to elaborate, so he said, “At least not since my … relative was attacked by a demon, I certainly don’t laugh.”
Yvonne turned in her chair and looked at him. “Really?”
“Really,” he answered grimly, and wished she’d look away because, well, he was getting perilously close to losing the battle with his natural instincts.
What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he should just bail now and go home to work. It would be the safer alternative. But as he stared at the blonde something else struck him.
“Do I know you?”
He was horrified to see her blush faintly, because that rising blood in her cheeks called to him like water in a desert.
“I, uh, I saw you once,” she admitted. “You were on your way out of the building as I was walking up. I think that was when I was thinking about buying the condo there.”
Now he remembered. The briefest moments in passing as he left his building, moving as fast as possible while pretending to be human, to avoid noticing anyone, to avoid the kind of neighborly contact that could create problems. He could easily have missed her scent, if the wind was right and he was going the other way. “Did you buy it?”
“Yes.” She furrowed her brow a bit. “Don’t you own one of the penthouses?”
Something in him stilled. She had troubled to find out where he lived, which meant her interest was more than passing. He needed to keep an eye on her. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “The topmost.”
She nodded. “Nice to meet you, neighbor.” Then she turned back to Chloe.
He wasn’t sure this was nice at all, not when he considered how hard he worked to make certain his neighbors just plain didn’t notice him.
He had put out the cover story that he was a reclusive intellectual with a medical problem who worked odd hours on papers for an international relations think tank, all of which was true except for the recluse part. Of course, being a vampire could be considered a medical problem.
He made sure to be seen leaving by way of the lobby once in a while, and coming back the same way so questions wouldn’t be asked, he had food delivered which he then carted out in smaller quantities to a food bank, and his blood deliveries sailed in safely under the banner of his “medical problem.”
But why had she asked about him, based on one small glimpse of him leaving the building?
He stared at her back and wished Jude would hurry up. He had questions now about this woman, and they were questions he could not ask. But Jude could, without making her suspicious.
The phone rang and Chloe answered. “Hi, Jude! When will you be back? You’ve got a client waiting. Okay. I’ll tell her.”
Chloe hung up and smiled at Yvonne. “He says fifteen minutes, max.”
Creed wished he could see more than the back of Yvonne’s head. Could feel more than uneasiness and a strong desire to pounce. Her aroma kept wafting his way, and only curiosity kept him from going home now to get out of the range of temptation.
And only self-restraint kept him glued to the couch. Finally, desperate, he announced, “I need some air,” and walked out. He waited outside on the quieting night street in the cold autumn air, impervious to the temperature.
And then Jude emerged from the shadows. Creed had heard his approach, though no mortal ever would have.
“What’s up?” Jude asked.
“Your new client.”
Jude came to stand beside him. “What?”
“She lives in my building, just moved there.”
“Okay.”
“And she knows where I live even though she claims to have seen me only once.”
“That made you suspicious.”
It wasn’t a question, which Creed appreciated. “You know the profile I keep. Of course it made me suspicious. She shouldn’t have noticed me enough to be curious. All I did was pass her quickly on my way out one night.”
“Well, some humans do feel an instinctive fascination.”
“Maybe. But then she turns up at your office.”
Jude nodded. “Consider me on guard. Maybe you should go home.”
“I’m curious. But her scent …”
Jude suddenly laughed. “Okay. I understand that one. Terri’s scent about drove me nuts. Can you handle it long enough to satisfy your curiosity?”
“I’ll have to. If you see her in confidence, you can’t tell me a damn thing.”
“Then come on. Let’s go get our answers.”
“But not for long. Crap. Now I’m blowing my cover as a medically troubled recluse.”
“We can take care of that, too. But first let’s find out what’s going on.”
Creed followed him inside, his step heavier than usual.
Inside, Jude shook hands with Yvonne Depuis and invited her into his inner office. Sometimes Creed thought Jude had been born suave, but he’d also seen Jude’s other side—impatient and occasionally cranky. On leaden feet, he went into Jude’s office with them, and took a chair as far away from Yvonne as space allowed.
“Mr. Preston,” Jude explained to Yvonne, “consults with me as his health allows, so I’m sure you don’t mind if he stays with us while we discuss your problem.”
Good going, Jude, Creed thought.
Yvonne shot another glance at Creed and again colored. “No, of course not. Might as well have the entire world think I’m crazy.”
“We don’t often think that around here,” Jude said soothingly. He pulled a piece of paper in front of him and picked up a pen. “What brought you to Messenger Investigations?”
“A friend of mine is on the police force. She said you have a reputation for dealing with weird stuff.”
Jude smiled. “So we do. Who recommended us? I like to thank people for referrals.”
“Detective Matthews.”
“Ah, Pat. A very nice lady.”
“She taught a criminology course I took a number of years ago and we became friends.”
“You’re in the police, too?”
Yvonne shook her head. “Not my cup of tea. I was just curious about law enforcement. I’m a writer. I’m curious about a lot of things.”
Jude nodded, scribbling something. “And the problem that brought you to us?”
Yvonne bit her lower lip. Creed inevitably thought about how he’d like to bite it for her. He had to close his eyes for a moment.
“It’s so hard to explain.”
“But you managed to tell Pat about it.”
A tremulous sigh escaped her and she managed another nod. “Okay. I moved into my condo about a week ago. And since I did, well, it’s hard to explain. I’ve never felt like this before. But I feel continually watched. Never alone. Every single minute I’m there. And then some things got moved around and I know I didn’t move them.”
“So you think someone may be getting in?”
“I don’t know. I mean that feeling of being watched … If someone was there, I’d know it. The condo’s not big enough for someone to really hide for long. But no one’s ever there. Frankly, I don’t even want to be alone in my own home, and it’s only been a week. The feeling is getting stronger. At first I thought it was just being in a new place, but if that was the case, it would be wearing off, wouldn’t it? And things being moved …” She shook her head and released a heavy sigh. “I can’t afford to move out now. I just bought the place. So I have to find out what’s wrong.”
“I agree,” Jude said. “Whatever it is that’s making you feel this way, we need to get to the bottom of it.”
“So you don’t think I’m just crazy?”
“Not likely. I think Creed will concur, when one feels watched, there’s usually someone watching.”
Creed cleared his throat. “Studies would seem to bear that out.”
“God.” Yvonne shuddered. “How could that be?” Then she appeared to have a thought. “Maybe it’s that creep of an ex-boyfriend of mine. Maybe he did something to my computer. He could be watching me day and night.” She scowled. “I wouldn’t put it past him, considering all the weird things he seems to get into. Stalking me? Yes, he’d be capable of it.”
“We’ll check it out along with other possibilities,” Jude said. “I want to examine your apartment very closely. I’ll need to gather some equipment first, though. When would be a good time?”
“Any time,” she said vehemently. “Now, tomorrow, I don’t care when. I work at home. Or I do when I’m not creeped out. Just tell me when.”
“Tomorrow night,” Jude said. “And I’m going to have Creed here accompany you home and check out your apartment before he goes to his own.”
Creed found it almost impossible to maintain a straight face. Alone with that woman in her apartment? Had Jude just lost his mind? But Jude’s expression revealed nothing. Talk about the ultimate test of self-control.
“Thank you,” Yvonne said, looking at him. “I’d be so grateful.”
Like hell she would, he thought grimly. Whatever or whoever might be watching her, it probably wasn’t nearly as big a threat to her as a vampire who craved her blood.
Namely Creed.
Chapter 2
Yvonne was acutely aware of Creed following her in his big black SUV as she drove back home. But then she’d been acutely aware of him since first she’d seen him, that day she decided to buy the condo. Maybe she had even made the decision because of him.
God, wasn’t she too old for a crush? Evidently not, because one sight of Creed Preston had engraved him indelibly in her mind. He was handsome, with an elegant build. He moved like an athlete, and the gold color of his eyes was striking. Like a tiger’s eyes, she thought.
And something about him struck her as dangerous, but not in a bad way. How weird was that? Maybe it was his tiger’s eyes.
But not even for long could she distract herself with thoughts of a silly schoolgirl crush, and how ridiculous that was in a woman of thirty-two. She was heading home again, heading to that place she called home anyway, a place that not even for one instant seemed welcoming anymore. In one short week she had come to wish that she’d noticed that feeling of being watched before she had bought the place. Because now all she wanted was to get out of it. Fast.
She pulled into her slot in the building’s parking garage and waited while Creed pulled into his. The penthouse slots were nearer the elevator, hardly surprising. When he climbed out, she felt again his extraordinary impact and wondered why she responded that way.
His smile was nice, too, even if it looked a bit forced. He used his own key to open the elevator then waved her in ahead of him. He seemed to her to hesitate, but only for a split second, before entering the car with her. She must have imagined it.
“Which floor?” he asked, reaching for the buttons.
“Twenty-fourth.”
He punched the button, then leaned back against the far wall, not looking at her. Indeed, he almost seemed to hold his breath.
Was she that repulsive to him? She knew she looked rather mousy, in fact it was an appearance she mostly cultivated in order to be left alone, but she didn’t think she stank. Had nervousness outworn her deodorant or something?
Irritated, she glanced away from him and watched the floors tick by. The ride seemed unusually long, and when finally the doors opened, she stepped out quickly and turned to face him.
“Look,” she said, her tone a little sharp, “I don’t want to inconvenience you any more. I’ll just deal with it tonight and wait for Mr. Messenger tomorrow.”
He straightened, pulling away from the car wall, and held out an arm so the elevator doors wouldn’t close. “I’m sorry?”
“Well, I can tell you’d rather be elsewhere. Clearly something about me repels you.”
Both his brows lifted. Then he astonished her with a laugh. “You’ve got that exactly backward.”
“What?” Now she felt confused.
“Nothing about you repels me,” he said flatly. “Quite the contrary. And I insist on checking out your apartment. Jude wants me to, I’m concerned about what you’re feeling, and if possible, I’d like to experience it, too. Unless you really do want to go back there by yourself tonight?”
Her jaw dropped a little. Had she totally misread him? His body language had definitely made her feel that he wanted to be away from her. But he’d told her the exact opposite was true. What was she to believe?
Finally, she managed a shrug and let him follow her to her door. Pat had recommended Jude Messenger, and Jude had vouched for Creed, so there was absolutely no reason on earth to suspect this man of anything except a desire to help her.
She must be too stressed, must be reading things wrong. Certainly she was short on sleep.
She swiped the key card at her door and pushed it open.
And the minute she stepped inside she felt it. Only now it was stronger than the sense of being watched. It was as if something dark loomed over her, threatening her. “Oh, God,” she whispered.
“Stay here,” Creed said. “Keep the door open.” He slipped past her into her condo.
As if she could have moved anyway. The sense of a presence overwhelmed her. The air thickened with menace, and it was stronger than she’d ever felt it before. She would not, could not, walk farther inside.
She waited with a hammering heart, straining to hear, but hearing nothing. Then, almost too quickly to be believed, Creed reappeared.
“Nothing?” she asked, knowing damn well it was something.
