Luther's Return
Page 27
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“I have the feeling you’ve been around people who are way too polite to tell you the truth. Just to give you a heads-up: politeness isn’t my forte.”
She stepped closer, seemingly unafraid of him. God, how he admired a woman who didn’t back down at the first sign of trouble. Who stood her ground, even if that ground was shaky at best.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Katie said in a voice as soft as an angel’s, though he knew there was nothing angelic about her.
Well, nothing apart from her lush curves. Or her plump lips. Her sweet tongue.
Fuck!
She was doing it again: ensnaring him with her witchy wiles. Casting out her net. But this time he was on alert. He would be careful not to get drawn in by the seductive gaze of her green eyes that promised unimaginable pleasures. He’d survived twenty years without the touch of a woman, he could survive the next twelve hours until they could get to the prison, get the information they needed, and get out.
After that, she was on her own. Whatever she did with the information they found wasn’t his problem. He’d wash his hands of her. Be done with it.
He’d leave California, go north, maybe to Canada, start a new life. Far away from the vampires he’d once called brothers.
“Fine, we’ll leave at sunset. Get some rest. You’ll need it. We’ll have to hike in.”
“I’m not tired yet,” she claimed.
“Suit yourself.”
“I’d like to ask you something.” Her voice was even now, almost friendly. That alone made the hairs on his nape stand up in alert.
“I’m all out of answers today.”
She walked—no, sashayed—over to the large sofa and sat down in one corner, kicking off her shoes in the process, before folding her legs underneath her.
“You said you had a hunch who wrote the letters. Why?”
“I never said I had a hunch. You assumed it.”
“But you do have a suspicion. Was it something the guy said?”
“I never met him. Most times we were kept in solitary. So we couldn’t form alliances against the guards. There were strict protocols.”
“What kind of protocols?”
“How many V-CONs were allowed outside their cells at any one time.”
“V-CONs?”
“Vampire Convicts.”
She nodded, a serious look on her face. “It must have been lonely.”
“I prefer my own company to that of others.” It wasn’t even a lie. Though it didn’t mean that he hadn’t been lonely.
“I understand that,” she murmured and looked into the distance.
Surprised by her words, he eyed her. What did Katie know about loneliness? By all accounts she’d been a successful actress, adored by her fans, envied by her peers.
She suddenly turned her gaze back to him. “But if you say you never met him, why do you think he wrote those letters?”
“His cell. It was plastered with pictures of you, posters.” He pointed at her hair. “Your hair was different. Blonde. That’s why I didn’t immediately recognize you.”
She caught a strand of her hair between her thumb and index finger and twirled it. “I dyed it blonde for a long time. But this is my natural hair color.”
“It suits you better.” The words were out before he could take them back. To cover the compliment, he added quickly, “One of the guards was cleaning out his cell the day I was released.”
“And the V-CON? Didn’t you see him?”
“Apparently he was released a week earlier.”
Katie nodded to herself. “Enough time to plan this.” A haunted look crossed her face. “Stalkers. They love planning. They love the anticipation. It turns them on.”
With every word, Luther realized that Katie wasn’t talking to him anymore. She was reminding herself of something. Something she’d experienced before.
13
Blake entered a ten-digit code into the dashboard of his black-out SUV and waited for the garage door to Samson’s Nob Hill mansion to lift. As the head of Scanguards’ personal security, he had access to all the houses where his charges resided, including Samson’s.
The early morning sunlight did not penetrate through the specially tinted windows of his SUV, keeping him safe.
When the gate lifted, Blake drove inside the spacious underground garage. Samson’s house had changed significantly in the past twenty years. After Grayson’s birth, Samson had bought the neighboring house and combined the two houses into one in order to have enough space for his growing family. Now the old Victorian could truly be called a mansion. At over six thousand square feet, it not only housed the Woodford family, but also boasted a garage, which could accommodate up to eight cars, and a command center connected to Scanguards’ headquarters, as well as large entertainment and meeting areas on the first floor.
She stepped closer, seemingly unafraid of him. God, how he admired a woman who didn’t back down at the first sign of trouble. Who stood her ground, even if that ground was shaky at best.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Katie said in a voice as soft as an angel’s, though he knew there was nothing angelic about her.
Well, nothing apart from her lush curves. Or her plump lips. Her sweet tongue.
Fuck!
She was doing it again: ensnaring him with her witchy wiles. Casting out her net. But this time he was on alert. He would be careful not to get drawn in by the seductive gaze of her green eyes that promised unimaginable pleasures. He’d survived twenty years without the touch of a woman, he could survive the next twelve hours until they could get to the prison, get the information they needed, and get out.
After that, she was on her own. Whatever she did with the information they found wasn’t his problem. He’d wash his hands of her. Be done with it.
He’d leave California, go north, maybe to Canada, start a new life. Far away from the vampires he’d once called brothers.
“Fine, we’ll leave at sunset. Get some rest. You’ll need it. We’ll have to hike in.”
“I’m not tired yet,” she claimed.
“Suit yourself.”
“I’d like to ask you something.” Her voice was even now, almost friendly. That alone made the hairs on his nape stand up in alert.
“I’m all out of answers today.”
She walked—no, sashayed—over to the large sofa and sat down in one corner, kicking off her shoes in the process, before folding her legs underneath her.
“You said you had a hunch who wrote the letters. Why?”
“I never said I had a hunch. You assumed it.”
“But you do have a suspicion. Was it something the guy said?”
“I never met him. Most times we were kept in solitary. So we couldn’t form alliances against the guards. There were strict protocols.”
“What kind of protocols?”
“How many V-CONs were allowed outside their cells at any one time.”
“V-CONs?”
“Vampire Convicts.”
She nodded, a serious look on her face. “It must have been lonely.”
“I prefer my own company to that of others.” It wasn’t even a lie. Though it didn’t mean that he hadn’t been lonely.
“I understand that,” she murmured and looked into the distance.
Surprised by her words, he eyed her. What did Katie know about loneliness? By all accounts she’d been a successful actress, adored by her fans, envied by her peers.
She suddenly turned her gaze back to him. “But if you say you never met him, why do you think he wrote those letters?”
“His cell. It was plastered with pictures of you, posters.” He pointed at her hair. “Your hair was different. Blonde. That’s why I didn’t immediately recognize you.”
She caught a strand of her hair between her thumb and index finger and twirled it. “I dyed it blonde for a long time. But this is my natural hair color.”
“It suits you better.” The words were out before he could take them back. To cover the compliment, he added quickly, “One of the guards was cleaning out his cell the day I was released.”
“And the V-CON? Didn’t you see him?”
“Apparently he was released a week earlier.”
Katie nodded to herself. “Enough time to plan this.” A haunted look crossed her face. “Stalkers. They love planning. They love the anticipation. It turns them on.”
With every word, Luther realized that Katie wasn’t talking to him anymore. She was reminding herself of something. Something she’d experienced before.
13
Blake entered a ten-digit code into the dashboard of his black-out SUV and waited for the garage door to Samson’s Nob Hill mansion to lift. As the head of Scanguards’ personal security, he had access to all the houses where his charges resided, including Samson’s.
The early morning sunlight did not penetrate through the specially tinted windows of his SUV, keeping him safe.
When the gate lifted, Blake drove inside the spacious underground garage. Samson’s house had changed significantly in the past twenty years. After Grayson’s birth, Samson had bought the neighboring house and combined the two houses into one in order to have enough space for his growing family. Now the old Victorian could truly be called a mansion. At over six thousand square feet, it not only housed the Woodford family, but also boasted a garage, which could accommodate up to eight cars, and a command center connected to Scanguards’ headquarters, as well as large entertainment and meeting areas on the first floor.
