Seduced by the Night

by Robin T. Popp

  The silent admission caused him to sigh. It was probably just as well that he remained at the lair. Lately, he and Harris hadn’t been seeing eye to eye on things, and that troubled him. He considered tasting one of the other humans chained to the wall, their fear a cloying scent in the otherwise rancid atmosphere of his lair, but a sound from the outer chamber distracted him.

  His converts had returned and Patterson was eager for the prize they’d brought him. Patterson, ever resourceful, had a plan—one that included personal wealth and power. The success of this plan, however, depended on having a biochemist; one who would do work for him, either willingly or coerced, it made no difference to Patterson.

  Stepping through the door, he gazed upon the frightened young man in a white lab coat, held suspended by his arms between the two underlings. Patterson suspected they retained their grip on the young man more to support him than to keep him from bolting. The irony here was that it was not the young man who should be the most frightened.

  “What the hell is this?” Patterson bellowed, causing the two lesser vampires to stumble back.

  “It . . . it’s the biochemist you wanted,” the braver of the two responded.

  “No,” Patterson said, his voice sounding deceptively calm. “This is not the biochemist I wanted. This biochemist is a man.” He raised an eyebrow as he looked first at one underling and then the other as if daring them to refute the obvious truth. “Where is the woman?” If it was possible for the two vampires to grow paler, they did.

  “We went to the lab as instructed, but he was the only one there.”

  “Then. You. Failed.” Patterson spit out the words, making sure the converts fully appreciated the extent of his displeasure. Their hold on the prisoner grew tentative as if they would leave him there and return immediately to the lab. Imbeciles. “You can’t go back now. Your incompetence has put me in a difficult situation. I’ll have to find another way to get what I want.” He turned to go back into his chamber.

  “What do we do with this one?”

  Without turning, Patterson waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t care. Drain him if you like.”

  “Wait!”

  Patterson stopped and looked back at the young man who was either braver or more foolish than Patterson had expected. “You wish to say something?”

  The young man swallowed visibly and took a deep breath. “You want Bethany Stavinoski, right? I can help you get her.”

  Chapter 2

  Dirk nodded to the uniformed officer guarding the entrance to Van Horne Technologies as he walked past the man. He took in the expensive tiled floors, the opulent reception station, the high-tech security desk, the vaulted ceiling, and the expensive artwork hanging on the walls. Everything reeked of money and nearly untouchable sophistication, with no thought to real functionality or security.

  A place like this would be child’s play to breach and nearly impossible to defend. That’s how Dirk viewed everything—in military terms. Ten years as a Navy SEAL followed by six months of hunting vampires did that to a man.

  “There’s John,” Admiral Charles Winslow said, leading his small group across the foyer to the security desk where the detective stood waiting for them.

  Besides the admiral and Dirk, there was Mac and Lanie Knight. Dirk had known Mac for years, having first met him in boot camp and then later serving in the SEALs with him. Their paths had split a year and a half ago, following an ambush that took the lives of half their unit and left Mac’s femur shattered when a sniper’s bullet hit his leg. That was when Mac left the Navy and, after months of rehab, started flying private charters, which is how he’d met his wife.

  A librarian by day and EMT/firefighter by night, Lanie had hired Mac to fly her to South America as soon as she learned of her father’s death. Dr. Weber had been working at one of the government’s research facilities and had supposedly died after being attacked by a wild animal.

  “Charles, glad you could come.” Detective John Boehler’s words broke Dirk from his thoughts and he watched the detective shake hands with the admiral. “The body’s back here.”

  He led them down a corridor to the right and stopped at the first doorway, taking them into what appeared to be a conference room.

  With his overdeveloped senses, Dirk picked up the smell of blood immediately and looked past the long dark conference table and chairs to the body lying at the far end of the room. The crime scene investigators had already taped the outline and presumably collected all the evidence they could, in hopes of finding the murderer, but Dirk knew they never would. That was no reflection on the Metropolitan police department. They simply didn’t understand what they were looking for.

  The deceased appeared to be in his mid-fifties, with dark hair heavily streaked with gray. Dirk thought the man would have been about five feet ten in height and had the wider girth that comes from years of bodybuilding. In other words, a hard man to bring down, had he been fighting humans.

  Lanie removed a glove from her pocket and pulled it on. Then, kneeling beside the body, she stretched out a hand to touch it, stopping short to glance up at John. “Is it okay?”

  John nodded. “Yeah, we’re done.”

  Lanie gripped the guard’s head and twisted it to the side, exposing the neck. “There.” She pointed to the puncture wounds. Against the unnaturally pale color of the skin, the two dark holes stood out in stark contrast, each approximately the size of a cotton swab and filled with partially congealed blood.

  “Is this the only victim?” Dirk asked the detective. It didn’t make sense to him that a vampire would go to the trouble of breaking into a corporate building to feed off one guard when there were other food sources more easily available out on the streets.

  “It’s the only body we found,” John replied. Dirk wasn’t the only one to notice his choice of words, because Mac pinned the detective with a questioning look. “Meaning?”

  John shrugged. “Meaning we have a missing research assistant. According to the security log, he signed in a couple of hours ago, but he’s not in the building. What’s more, the lab he works in looks like it’s been torn apart and we found a small amount of blood on the floor. Everything points to an abduction, but what I don’t have is a motive or suspects.”

  “What kind of research was he doing?” Dirk asked.

  “I don’t know,” John admitted, leading them out of the conference room. “This is a small-scale biochemical research facility. Let’s go upstairs,” he suggested. “You can take a look at the lab and meet the CEO and department manager. I’ll introduce you.”

  The police were not obligated to show them anything and it was only because of John that they were allowed into what would otherwise be a restricted site.

  “Miles Van Horne, of the Van Hornes, owns this place,” John explained, leading them to the elevators. They stepped into the waiting car and he pressed the button for the fourth floor. “The department manager, Bethany Stavinoski, is his fiancée.” He sighed. “She’s involved in this somehow. Not only did she find the guard, but it’s her lab and research that were destroyed and the guy missing is her assistant.”

  When the elevator stopped, they followed the detective down the hallway past several closed doors until they reached one standing open. This time, when Dirk stepped into the room, the blood scent was not as easy to detect—first, because there wasn’t as much, and second, because the smell of chemical reagents filled the air, masking the odor. Nevertheless, he moved past the lab tables to the very back of the room, Mac close by his side.

  “There.” Dirk pointed at the bloodstains on the floor and the top of the counter. The small droplets were more in keeping with a cut from broken glass than from a mortal wound.

  Dirk did a slow visual inspection of the destruction inside the lab. “Sloppy,” he commented softly, for Mac’s ears only, not referring to the debris but rather the method of attack.

  “Definitely wasn’t Harris or Patterson,” Mac agreed. “They
would have been in and out a lot cleaner than this.”

  “Agreed, but they must be involved. The lesser vamps couldn’t have planned this by themselves.” Dirk moved about the room, studying the broken glassware and equipment. “Be nice to know what type of research was being done here.”

  “Mac? Dirk?” Lanie called to them from the front of the lab and the two men went to join her. She stood slightly behind the admiral and John, who were talking to a distinguished-looking man in a business suit. He appeared to be older, about the admiral’s age. The woman standing beside him wore a white lab coat but Dirk couldn’t see her face with the detective’s body blocking his view.

  At a break in the conversation, the admiral motioned the two men forward. “Mac Knight and Dirk Adams, this is Miles Van Horne and his fiancée, Bethany Stavinoski.”

  “Mr. Van Horne; Ms. Stavinoski.” Mac shook hands with both of them and then moved to one side so Dirk could step forward.

  Dirk held out his hand to the man first and thought Van Horne’s stance reeked with a confidence born of having an excess of money. Old childhood resentments stirred and he had to resist the almost uncontrollable urge to squeeze the man’s hand just a little harder than necessary when they shook. Next, he turned to meet the fiancée and felt the impact of recognition hit him as their hands touched and a jolt of awareness shot through him.

  Bethany stared at the man before her and the rest of the room faded. She was almost positive that she’d seen him before and tried hard to remember where. Almost as if he knew she was trying to guess, he smiled—a slight lifting of his lips—and in her mind, she was suddenly back on the darkened street, staring at that same smile.

  He wore the same black duster, dark, collarless shirt, black jeans, and boots. With piercing blue eyes and sandy blond hair that looked like it hadn’t been cut in a while, there was a James Dean wildness to his appearance.

  “Bethany?” Miles’s voice cut into her thoughts and she turned to him guiltily.

  “I’m sorry?” She was horrified to realize that, for a moment, she’d forgotten that he was there.

  “Admiral Winslow asked if you knew why anyone might wish to harm Stuart?”

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t. As I told Detective Boehler, Stuart and I weren’t that close. He didn’t confide in me.”

  The admiral nodded and turned to discuss something with the detective, allowing her a chance to study him. He was about the same age as Miles, putting him in his mid-to-late fifties. His gray hair, combed straight back, and darker-colored, neatly trimmed beard and mustache gave him a Sean Connery appearance. She couldn’t hear what he was saying to the detective, but soon lost interest in trying to listen when the feeling of being watched distracted her.

  “What type of work were you doing here?” Dirk asked her, his voice filled with a natural male assurance that caused her to focus more on the man than the question.

  “I was trying to produce a synthetic duplicate of a plant extract.” His intense scrutiny unnerved her and she had to work to focus her thoughts. “I’m told it’s a plant found only in the thickest part of the Amazon jungle. One of the local tribes uses it for medicinal purposes with miraculous results. Van Horne Technologies was hired to see if it’s possible to duplicate it.” “Who hired you?” Dirk asked Miles in a tone that indicated he expected an answer. Bethany tried not to show her own interest in hearing the response to a question that she, herself, had asked Miles countless times.

  “I’m afraid that information is confidential—for now,” Miles replied. It was the same line he’d given her each time she’d asked. Frustrated, she looked away and found Lanie giving her an interested look.

  “How long have you been working on this project?” Dirk asked.

  “About a month,” Bethany replied, turning back to look at him. She was struck again by the intensity of his gaze.

  “Does it usually take that long to duplicate something?” he asked.

  It does when I intentionally drag my feet. “This extract is not like anything I’ve come across before,” she offered by way of explanation, hoping that none of them knew enough about biochemistry to challenge her statement.

  There was a pause in conversation and Bethany watched as the group exchanged meaningful looks with one another. She didn’t have to wait long to find out what it meant.

  “Here’s the situation,” the admiral began, sounding like he was about to deliver bad news. “Based on the method by which the guard was murdered, we believe a small underground terrorist faction is responsible. Until we can determine that their interest in Mr. Meyers is personal and not related to the project he and Ms. Stavinoski were working on, we have to assume that Ms. Stavinoski is also in danger.”

  “No, you must be mistaken,” Miles insisted. “Stuart is behind this. I’m sure of it.”

  “Ms. Stavinoski’s assistant didn’t kill the guard,” Dirk replied. “More likely, he’s been taken by the group that did. If so, the odds of seeing him alive again are remote.”

  Bethany felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. She was horrified to think that Stuart might have been kidnapped by the guard’s murderers, might even now be dead. Worse still, it had never occurred to her that her own life might be in jeopardy. She folded her arms in front of her, feeling suddenly unsure and exposed.

  “No.” Miles shook his head as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, drawing her attention to him. “Given the type of person Stuart Meyers is, I feel confident that his abduction is personal. Frank died because he got in the way. That’s all.”

  “Are you willing to bet your fiancée’s life on that?” Dirk pinned Miles with a cold, hard look.

  Bethany saw the muscles of Miles’s cheek work as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying to control his anger. He had opened his mouth to respond when the detective cut him off.

  “Mr. Van Horne, with all due respect, I’m afraid that in this instance, I have to agree with Admiral Winslow. This is not the first time I’ve come across this particular terrorist group, we call them the Exsanguinators, and if there’s the slightest possibility that Ms. Stavinoski’s life is in danger, she’ll need protection.” He paused and proceeded hesitantly. “I think it would be best if I placed her in protective custody. It’s the only way to ensure her safety.”

  The suggestion stunned Bethany. She had no idea if the detective could actually do that, but she didn’t like the sound of it. She opened her mouth to voice her objection when she was cut short.

  “There is another option.” Dirk’s voice was cool steel slicing through a thick silence. “Hire a bodyguard.”

  “It can’t be just anyone,” Mac Knight pointed out, joining the discussion. “It has to be someone who understands the unique nature of this particular threat. It’d have to be one of us.”

  Dirk stared at Bethany, making her uneasy. “I’ll do it.”

  His announcement caught her off guard and she studied the unreadable expression on his face, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Miles’s tone was chilly. “If Bethany needs protection, I’ll make the necessary arrangements for a bodyguard.” His tone brooked no argument.

  The expression on Dirk’s face darkened, but it was the admiral who spoke. “In that case, we should be on our way. It was very nice meeting you both.” He shook hands with each of them. “If there’s anything we can do to help, please don’t hesitate to contact us. John,” he said, turning to the detective, “may I have a word?”

  As the two walked out of the lab, Bethany shot Miles a questioning look that he ignored. Instead, he turned his attention to Mac and Lanie, who were waiting to shake hands and say their farewells. The woman, Lanie, gave her a sympathetic smile as she shook Bethany’s hand.

  “It was very nice meeting you,” she said. “And congratulations on winning the Rod O’Connor Award. That’s quite an achievement and well deserved, I’m sure.” Bethany’s surprise must have shown on her face because
the other woman smiled and shrugged. “I read it in the paper.”

  “Thank you.” Bethany wouldn’t have thought anyone outside the field would have noticed the article, much less read it. It wasn’t what most considered exciting news.

  “She was in the paper?” Dirk’s voice dragged her from her musings as he looked first at her and then at Lanie. It was the latter who answered.

  “Yes. I think it was a week ago, wasn’t it?” She glanced at Bethany who could only nod in the face of Dirk’s clear interest.

  “What was the award for?” Mac asked in such a way that Bethany thought he sounded nearly as intimidating as Dirk.

  “The award was for biochemical excellence,” Miles announced proudly, draping an arm around Bethany’s shoulders and briefly pulling her close. “Bethany is one of the leading researchers in her field.” She blushed at Miles’s praise and show of affection, trying not to let the condemnation that flashed across Dirk’s eyes bother her. She’d seen it time and again since she and Miles first started dating, from people who thought she was a young gold digger after a rich man’s money—or that Miles was an old lecher robbing the cradle in hopes of reclaiming his youth.

  “It’s time to go,” Dirk announced suddenly. Everyone said their good-byes and as Mac and Lanie went to join the admiral and Detective Boehler, Bethany found herself waiting breathlessly for a second touch of Dirk’s hand against hers, wondering if it would cause the same spark of awareness to shoot through her as it had the first time. Unfortunately, she wasn’t given a chance to find out.

  “Mr. Van Horne. Ms. Stavinoski.” Dirk nodded his head once in farewell and then strode from the room, leaving her to feel irrationally disappointed and more than a little baffled at his abruptness.