Oliver's Hunger
Page 36
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He glared back at his half-brother. “What do you want up here anyway? Weren’t you supposed to guard the doors?”
“Cain’s calling. He has some information for you,” Blake answered.
“Is he still on the phone?”
“He’s waiting on Scanguards’ internal system for you.”
“Excuse me.” With an apologetic glance at Ursula Oliver turned and went downstairs, leaving Blake with her.
At least he could be sure of one thing: Ursula wouldn’t allow Blake to touch her now, not after what had just happened. And Blake was smart enough not to try anything, if only not to be thrown into the same pot as Oliver.
Oliver marched into the study and dropped into the chair behind the desk. The screen showed Cain, also sitting at a desk. They were connected via Scanguards’ secure communication system, a video conferencing program similar to Skype. However, it was encrypted and, thanks to Thomas’s programming skills, hacker-proof.
“There you are.”
“What’s up? What did you find?”
Cain looked serious. “Quite a bit, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
Oliver squeezed shut his eyes for a moment. He was in so deep already, he could only hope that the news wasn’t all bad. If Ursula was lying to them and turned out to be a plant by a rival vampire group, he wasn’t sure how he’d extricate himself from the situation he was in. He wanted Ursula, and with every kiss his need grew stronger.
“Go on, don’t make me pull it out of your nose.”
Cain nodded. “I’ve found newspaper articles about her disappearance, and Thomas was able to get me the corresponding police reports. The photo is definitely her. Her name is Ursula Wei Ling Tseng. Daughter of a Chinese diplomat stationed at the Chinese embassy in Washington DC. An only child. She went to NYU before she disappeared.”
Oliver relaxed, dropping his shoulders to release the tension in his neck. “So far it checks out then. So, what am I not gonna like?”
Cain grimaced. “She told us she was abducted.” He shook his head. “More like she ran away.”
A gasp from the door made Oliver look away from the screen. Ursula stood there, her mouth gaping open. Blake was behind her.
“That’s not true!” She rushed into the room and rounded the desk, then repeated her words when she stared at Cain on the screen. “It’s a lie.”
Oliver sensed her distress, but didn’t dare put a soothing hand on her arm. “Are you sure, Cain?” he asked instead, forcing his voice to remain calm, despite the storm raging inside him.
“Sorry, but yes.” He held up a few sheets of paper. “It’s in the police report. Apparently they found a note written by Ursula.”
Shock rolling off her in spades, Ursula leaned toward the computer. “I never wrote a note! There was no note!”
“That’s not all,” Cain continued. “The report says that you and your parents had a big fight days before your disappearance.”
Ursula jerked back, and Oliver noticed how she flinched. “But . . . ” She hesitated, looking down to him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I . . . it was all a big misunderstanding. I was stressed out about my exams. I didn’t mean to quarrel with them.”
Her eyes begged him for understanding, and his heart broke for her.
The clearing of a throat came from the speakers. “The evidence the police found, the note, a piece of your clothing on a pier in Manhattan . . . they concluded that you cracked, that you couldn’t take it. It was ruled a suicide.”
A sob tore from Ursula’s chest. Oliver noticed her grip the edge of the desk for support and jumped up, catching her before her knees buckled.
“My parents think I’m dead?” she sobbed. “No. No, please, no.”
Oliver looked back toward the screen. “Thanks, Cain. I’ll call you back later.”
Then he led Ursula to the Chesterfield sofa that stood below the window and lowered her down, taking a seat next to her without releasing her from his arms.
Her tears were only interrupted by frantic gulps for air, which resulted in even louder sobs. He’d never seen a woman cry like this.
“They think I’m dead,” she repeated over and over again.
Oliver stroked his palm over her hair and pressed her head against his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Please believe me,” she whispered barely audible.
“I do. I believe you.”
His doubts about her story had evaporated the moment she’d cried out after finding out that everybody believed her dead. Her reaction had been instantaneous and pure. She hadn’t faked her death and run away. Whoever had kidnapped her, had done that to stop her parents and the police from looking for her. He had no doubts about that now.
“Cain’s calling. He has some information for you,” Blake answered.
“Is he still on the phone?”
“He’s waiting on Scanguards’ internal system for you.”
“Excuse me.” With an apologetic glance at Ursula Oliver turned and went downstairs, leaving Blake with her.
At least he could be sure of one thing: Ursula wouldn’t allow Blake to touch her now, not after what had just happened. And Blake was smart enough not to try anything, if only not to be thrown into the same pot as Oliver.
Oliver marched into the study and dropped into the chair behind the desk. The screen showed Cain, also sitting at a desk. They were connected via Scanguards’ secure communication system, a video conferencing program similar to Skype. However, it was encrypted and, thanks to Thomas’s programming skills, hacker-proof.
“There you are.”
“What’s up? What did you find?”
Cain looked serious. “Quite a bit, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
Oliver squeezed shut his eyes for a moment. He was in so deep already, he could only hope that the news wasn’t all bad. If Ursula was lying to them and turned out to be a plant by a rival vampire group, he wasn’t sure how he’d extricate himself from the situation he was in. He wanted Ursula, and with every kiss his need grew stronger.
“Go on, don’t make me pull it out of your nose.”
Cain nodded. “I’ve found newspaper articles about her disappearance, and Thomas was able to get me the corresponding police reports. The photo is definitely her. Her name is Ursula Wei Ling Tseng. Daughter of a Chinese diplomat stationed at the Chinese embassy in Washington DC. An only child. She went to NYU before she disappeared.”
Oliver relaxed, dropping his shoulders to release the tension in his neck. “So far it checks out then. So, what am I not gonna like?”
Cain grimaced. “She told us she was abducted.” He shook his head. “More like she ran away.”
A gasp from the door made Oliver look away from the screen. Ursula stood there, her mouth gaping open. Blake was behind her.
“That’s not true!” She rushed into the room and rounded the desk, then repeated her words when she stared at Cain on the screen. “It’s a lie.”
Oliver sensed her distress, but didn’t dare put a soothing hand on her arm. “Are you sure, Cain?” he asked instead, forcing his voice to remain calm, despite the storm raging inside him.
“Sorry, but yes.” He held up a few sheets of paper. “It’s in the police report. Apparently they found a note written by Ursula.”
Shock rolling off her in spades, Ursula leaned toward the computer. “I never wrote a note! There was no note!”
“That’s not all,” Cain continued. “The report says that you and your parents had a big fight days before your disappearance.”
Ursula jerked back, and Oliver noticed how she flinched. “But . . . ” She hesitated, looking down to him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I . . . it was all a big misunderstanding. I was stressed out about my exams. I didn’t mean to quarrel with them.”
Her eyes begged him for understanding, and his heart broke for her.
The clearing of a throat came from the speakers. “The evidence the police found, the note, a piece of your clothing on a pier in Manhattan . . . they concluded that you cracked, that you couldn’t take it. It was ruled a suicide.”
A sob tore from Ursula’s chest. Oliver noticed her grip the edge of the desk for support and jumped up, catching her before her knees buckled.
“My parents think I’m dead?” she sobbed. “No. No, please, no.”
Oliver looked back toward the screen. “Thanks, Cain. I’ll call you back later.”
Then he led Ursula to the Chesterfield sofa that stood below the window and lowered her down, taking a seat next to her without releasing her from his arms.
Her tears were only interrupted by frantic gulps for air, which resulted in even louder sobs. He’d never seen a woman cry like this.
“They think I’m dead,” she repeated over and over again.
Oliver stroked his palm over her hair and pressed her head against his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Please believe me,” she whispered barely audible.
“I do. I believe you.”
His doubts about her story had evaporated the moment she’d cried out after finding out that everybody believed her dead. Her reaction had been instantaneous and pure. She hadn’t faked her death and run away. Whoever had kidnapped her, had done that to stop her parents and the police from looking for her. He had no doubts about that now.
