* * * *
Kathryn only wanted to get to the front door and get the hell out of this club. Like right now. But they wouldn’t let her. Two large, sweaty, and she was pretty sure bloody, vampires had taken a liking to her and were now stopping her from leaving while they eyeballed each other in some sort of vampire pissing contest. She wasn’t sure what they hoped to achieve since she certainly had no intention of spending any time with either of them, but every time she managed to inch in the direction of the door, one of them would shift to block her path. That wasn’t difficult in the crowded room, especially not since all hell had broken loose once these two and their buddies joined the party. All of the other women in the room were literally throwing themselves at the new arrivals, but for some reason these two had declared war over her. She’d tried showing them her badge and demanding they get the fuck out of her way, but they’d barely glanced at it before going back to their growling contest. Apparently, the prize, i.e. Kathryn, didn’t have any say in the matter.
Kathryn was irritated and somewhat puzzled by this turn of events, but not all that worried. Either they didn’t believe she was actually FBI, or they thought it was all a game, an interesting new bit of foreplay before the big finale. She, at least, knew that wasn’t the case, but she was still trying to decide the best way to extricate herself from the situation. She was reluctant to pull her weapon in such a crowded room, especially with the testosterone level as high as it was. And that was her last choice anyway. She had no doubt she could escape any attempt to control her physically. Vampires were amazingly strong, but she didn’t need to defeat them on points, she only needed to get away. And she had no intention of being anyone’s dinner and/or bedmate tonight.
When one of her suitors made a grab for her left arm, Kathryn decided she’d had enough. She slipped her right hand inside her jacket, and had managed to unsnap the safety strap on her sidearm when the two vampires suddenly began bumping into each other aggressively, like two wooly mammoths battling for supremacy. Kathryn squeaked—and thank God no one could hear that over the general noise—and ducked down, lest she be crushed between the two behemoths. They began snarling, muscles bunching across their huge chests and arms, fangs blatantly displayed and gleaming in the low light. Under other circumstances, she might have been intrigued by that development. Where had the fangs come from? And how did they deploy them? Was it any intense emotion that did it? Or did it have to be intentional?
But then the two huge vampires went after each other, and she was roughly shoved out of the way. Kathryn glanced around, but no one else seemed to care. There were a few screams and some grunts of displeasure, but they were lost in the general mayhem. And everyone adapted fairly quickly, shuffling aside and giving the combatants room to figure out whose dick was bigger, or whatever the hell they were fighting about.
Kathryn, on the other hand, saw this as her chance to escape. She spun around and was heading straight for the door with long purposeful strides when a wall of solid muscle stepped into her path. She looked up into a pair of glowing red eyes.
“They’re battling over you,” the new vampire said, lisping slightly around his very visible fangs. This close up, she could see the tight pink flesh of his gums stretching around the tops of the unique teeth. The vamp was smaller than the other two, his height almost identical to hers with the heels, but his shoulders were thick and broad, and he had a deep barrel chest. He grinned at her, and Kathryn fought the urge to grin back. She had to fight it too hard, actually. She’d heard stories of vampires’ ability to project emotion and thought and wondered if that was happening here, or if this guy was just naturally charismatic. But whichever it was, Kathryn wanted no part of it.
“Excuse me,” she said pleasantly and started to go around the newcomer.
He laughed. “Playing hard to get, Blondie? Not nice. No one likes a fang teaser.”
Her eyes narrowed in anger. “Get out of my way. Now,” she demanded and put her hand on the Glock where it rested on her right hip.
“You gonna shoot me with your little gun?” he mocked.
Kathryn pulled and shoved the gun into his crotch. “No, I’m gonna shoot your balls off with my little gun,” she said sweetly.
He snarled and raised a hand as if to reach for her. Kathryn feared she really was going to have to shoot this idiot’s nuts off, when a big hand grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him aside. The red-eyed vampire’s first reaction was to yowl like a jungle cat, but then he froze, nearly choking himself on his own outrage as he stared up at the vampire who’d grabbed him.
“Go,” Lucas said.
Red Eyes disappeared into the crowd as Lucas turned his impatient stare on her instead. “Special Agent Hunter,” he said.
“What do you want?” she snapped at him, jamming her gun back into its holster. She started to shove past him, but he looped an arm around her waist and bent his mouth to her ear.
“Is that any way to treat the person who just saved you from your own stupidity?”
Kathryn’s jaw tightened, but she spun around with a smile and stretched up to put her lips against his ear in turn. “Why, Lord Donlon,” she murmured. “First you lie to me, then you stand me up, and now you call me stupid. How ever do the ladies resist you?” The last few words were more of a snarl than a murmur.
She put both hands on his chest and shoved away from him, then stormed toward the exit, noticing that a pathway had magically opened between her and the front door. Probably more of Lucas’s highhandedness. All of his people seemed terrified of him. Maybe he wrapped them in silver chains and made them sleep in their coffins if they were bad boys. She’d read stuff like that in her research, although the sources were all fictional, so she was pretty sure it wasn’t real. Especially since vampires weren’t actually dead, which eliminated the whole coffin angle. And why the hell was she worrying about bullshit like this right now?
Kathryn finally made it out of the crowded club and stopped for a moment on the sidewalk to enjoy the simple pleasure of breathing fresh air again. It was cold, but the icy air felt terrific on her overheated face. She didn’t linger long, knowing Lucas would probably be right behind her. She didn’t feel up to trading barbs with him anymore, and she started toward the parking lot. She hadn’t been sure when she’d started out tonight if coming to the club was the smart thing to do, but it had turned out well overall. She’d confirmed that Daniel had been here and that Kurt, at least, had expected him back. And while she’d been certain all along that her brother hadn’t gotten lost somewhere in the backcountry, it was good to know that Kurt had looked for him and not found him.
But where to go next? The strongest lead she had was still Alex Carmichael, despite what Kurt had said about the vampire’s pickup habits. She had no evidence that her brother’s disappearance was linked to some obsessed fan, after all. Perhaps Carmichael had financial problems and hoped to extort money in exchange for Dan’s release. There’d been no ransom demand, but then one wasn’t necessary. The big money was all Dan’s. All Carmichael needed was a computer, and Dan could pay his own ransom. She made a mental note to check her brother’s bank accounts. She’d done a standard run before leaving Quantico, but she should be monitoring daily for any unusual activity. Things like ATM withdrawals or wire transfers.
So, sticking with Alex Carmichael as her prime suspect for the time being, he definitely wasn’t going to be found in this tiny town, especially not if he was holding her brother somewhere. Tomorrow morning, she was going to pack all of Daniel’s gear and her few things into her rented SUV and drive to Minneapolis. If there was a lead, it was in the city where Carmichael had a business and friends. She felt certain of that. She was also certain that Lucas knew more than he was saying, but she didn’t know the right questions to ask. Until she did, she was wasting her time trying to get anything out of him.
Kathryn pulled the keys out of her pocket as she came around the corner of the building and into the poorly lit parking lot. She lifted the fob and looked up as she aimed it in the direction of her SUV.
Impossible. But there he was, big as life and so gorgeously masculine that even in her anger she had to admit it. Lucas Donlon was leaning against her truck, arms crossed over his chest, legs casually crossed at the ankle, looking as relaxed as if he’d been hanging around all evening, even though she’d just left him behind in the club.
“When have I ever lied to you?” he asked far too reasonably.
Apparently he’d been paying attention to her parting shot in the club. Kathryn sent him a dismissive glance and beeped her locks open, hoping God would intervene and zap his perfectly sculpted ass where it rested against the driver’s door of her vehicle.
Lucas laughed. “If you want to spank me, a cuisle, I’d rather you use your hand.”
“As if,” she muttered, and then frowned. Had he read her mind? She dismissed the notion as soon as she thought it. He’d simply reacted to the slight vibration of the electronic locks opening, and then, being who he was, had come up with the most risqué comeback he could think of.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “And how the hell did you get out here before me?” She could have bitten her tongue as soon as she asked the question.
“You first. When have I ever lied to you?” he repeated.
Kathryn eyed him impatiently. “Alex Carmichael?” she said.
“What about him?”
“Oh, please. Don’t add insult to . . . insult by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about. Carmichael Galleries. You knew I was looking for an older man named Alex, especially someone who was interested in my brother’s work. Put one and one together, Lucas. You’re not a stupid man.”
“You think Alex—”
“Yes. Alex. Carmichael’s first name, which you conveniently didn’t mention the other night in your office.”
“Actually that’s not his first name—”
