Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 78
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Delilah pursed her lips. “Your internal controls around cash are pretty solid. Any cash transfers go through a double-approval process. I’ve read the procedure manual on it. He couldn’t have done it on his own.”
She placed the dishes into the sink and started cleaning them.
“I think we’re overlooking something. Let’s examine the facts. You audit the company. John gets nervous because he has been embezzling from us. He hires his brother-in-law to kill or …”
“… or scare me away …”
“… or scare you away. And just when we catch onto him, he is murdered. It wasn’t his brother-in-law, since we’d already apprehended him. It wasn’t a random killing. It was deliberate. So, what would John have told us if we had gotten to him earlier? Would he have confessed that he embezzled from us? Maybe. But that would only hurt himself.”
“Somebody clearly didn’t want us to confront him. John knew that person, and knew what he did, or knew what he’d let him do.”
“That’s right, because John helped him with it. There’s no other reason for somebody to want you dead than thinking that you’ll uncover what they did, and it has to be bigger than accelerated depreciation and selling off small assets. Much bigger.”
Delilah turned around to look at him, interest shimmering in her eyes. Seemingly unaware that she held a sharp knife in her hand, she made an animated gesture. As the blade slipped out of her hand, she made an attempt to grip it, but only caught the sharp end between her fingers. It effortlessly cut into the soft flesh of her fingers before it landed on the floor. Blood immediately ran down her hand.
“Damn!”
“Oh shit!” Amaury exclaimed. That was all he needed – the scent of fresh blood on a virtually empty stomach. “Let me help you bandage it.” The faster he sealed her wound, the better for all of them.
He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a clean napkin. “Let me see.”
She held her good hand against her stomach. “Oh, God, I can’t look.”
“It’s just a little blood,” he assured her and couldn’t help but notice that she’d gone white.
Amaury took her hand to look how deep the wound was, as he held the napkin underneath it to stop the blood from dripping on the floor. He held his breath in order not to become overpowered by the utterly enticing smell.
***
Samson scented the blood as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom, freshly showered and dressed. There was no doubt whose blood it was and where it came from. His nostrils flared, and his body tensed.
Delilah!
He knew Amaury’s love for warm blood better than anybody and cursed himself for having let him stay while Delilah was with him.
As he flew down the stairs and burst into the kitchen, he was battle ready—to save his woman from his best friend. If Amaury had bitten her, he’d kill him. Fury shot through him as his eyes focused on the scene in the kitchen: Amaury bent over Delilah’s bleeding hand.
Without thinking Samson lunged at his best friend, and with a loud thud they both crashed onto the hard kitchen floor.
“Noooooooo!” Samson’s scream echoed in the kitchen. He flashed his fangs and snarled, pinning Amaury underneath him as he pummeled him with his fists. His friend’s arms came up in defense, trying to shield his face.
“Stop!” But Amaury’s voice was drowned out by Samson’s fierce roar. Samson’s fist connected with his friend’s jaw once more. Deflecting his next hit, Amaury held him at bay.
“Samson!” Delilah’s voice finally penetrated his head.
“I didn’t do anything,” Amaury hissed.
“Samson! What’s going on?”
He jerked his head and instantly knew he shouldn’t have turned toward her when he saw her reaction him. In his daze he’d forgotten about everything. He hadn’t realized what she’d see: his vampire side.
Delilah shrieked, eyes wide, mouth open, her hand holding onto the counter as she backed away from them.
“Oh my God!” Her chest heaved as if she couldn’t get enough air. “Oh my God, what are you?” It wasn’t really a question. It was more of a statement.
He was so screwed.
***
Samson’s eyes were red. Blinking freaking red!
They looked the same way as that time in the shower, when Ricky had interrupted them. She hadn’t seen wrong, as much as she’d wanted to explain it away. But she couldn’t explain it away, not anymore, not when she looked at his mouth from which two teeth were protruding now.
She placed the dishes into the sink and started cleaning them.
“I think we’re overlooking something. Let’s examine the facts. You audit the company. John gets nervous because he has been embezzling from us. He hires his brother-in-law to kill or …”
“… or scare me away …”
“… or scare you away. And just when we catch onto him, he is murdered. It wasn’t his brother-in-law, since we’d already apprehended him. It wasn’t a random killing. It was deliberate. So, what would John have told us if we had gotten to him earlier? Would he have confessed that he embezzled from us? Maybe. But that would only hurt himself.”
“Somebody clearly didn’t want us to confront him. John knew that person, and knew what he did, or knew what he’d let him do.”
“That’s right, because John helped him with it. There’s no other reason for somebody to want you dead than thinking that you’ll uncover what they did, and it has to be bigger than accelerated depreciation and selling off small assets. Much bigger.”
Delilah turned around to look at him, interest shimmering in her eyes. Seemingly unaware that she held a sharp knife in her hand, she made an animated gesture. As the blade slipped out of her hand, she made an attempt to grip it, but only caught the sharp end between her fingers. It effortlessly cut into the soft flesh of her fingers before it landed on the floor. Blood immediately ran down her hand.
“Damn!”
“Oh shit!” Amaury exclaimed. That was all he needed – the scent of fresh blood on a virtually empty stomach. “Let me help you bandage it.” The faster he sealed her wound, the better for all of them.
He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a clean napkin. “Let me see.”
She held her good hand against her stomach. “Oh, God, I can’t look.”
“It’s just a little blood,” he assured her and couldn’t help but notice that she’d gone white.
Amaury took her hand to look how deep the wound was, as he held the napkin underneath it to stop the blood from dripping on the floor. He held his breath in order not to become overpowered by the utterly enticing smell.
***
Samson scented the blood as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom, freshly showered and dressed. There was no doubt whose blood it was and where it came from. His nostrils flared, and his body tensed.
Delilah!
He knew Amaury’s love for warm blood better than anybody and cursed himself for having let him stay while Delilah was with him.
As he flew down the stairs and burst into the kitchen, he was battle ready—to save his woman from his best friend. If Amaury had bitten her, he’d kill him. Fury shot through him as his eyes focused on the scene in the kitchen: Amaury bent over Delilah’s bleeding hand.
Without thinking Samson lunged at his best friend, and with a loud thud they both crashed onto the hard kitchen floor.
“Noooooooo!” Samson’s scream echoed in the kitchen. He flashed his fangs and snarled, pinning Amaury underneath him as he pummeled him with his fists. His friend’s arms came up in defense, trying to shield his face.
“Stop!” But Amaury’s voice was drowned out by Samson’s fierce roar. Samson’s fist connected with his friend’s jaw once more. Deflecting his next hit, Amaury held him at bay.
“Samson!” Delilah’s voice finally penetrated his head.
“I didn’t do anything,” Amaury hissed.
“Samson! What’s going on?”
He jerked his head and instantly knew he shouldn’t have turned toward her when he saw her reaction him. In his daze he’d forgotten about everything. He hadn’t realized what she’d see: his vampire side.
Delilah shrieked, eyes wide, mouth open, her hand holding onto the counter as she backed away from them.
“Oh my God!” Her chest heaved as if she couldn’t get enough air. “Oh my God, what are you?” It wasn’t really a question. It was more of a statement.
He was so screwed.
***
Samson’s eyes were red. Blinking freaking red!
They looked the same way as that time in the shower, when Ricky had interrupted them. She hadn’t seen wrong, as much as she’d wanted to explain it away. But she couldn’t explain it away, not anymore, not when she looked at his mouth from which two teeth were protruding now.
