“To watch the girl. Don’t get too close. Don’t let Michael Andreas see me. And if I saw him, even from far away, if he looked in my direction, I was supposed to run.”
Michael gave him a big, toothy grin, flashing his canines. “What you will tell the vampire is that you saw Chloe, but she was with me, so as instructed, you ran. I did not catch you. We did not talk. I seemed concerned only with my young woman, but you ran as soon as you laid eyes on me. Understand?
You won’t remember anything at all since the time that you stepped out of the elevator. When I get up and leave, you will sit here and finish your food. And then you’ll go back to the vampire and tell him exactly what I have instructed you to say.”
“Exactly as you instructed,” Quinn repeated.
“Good boy.” Michael grinned. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone. “Smile for the camera.”
Quinn did just as he was told, and for a spare instant, he almost felt sorry for the young man. Not quite.
“What are you doing here? In the States, I mean?” he asked.
“Moved here from Melbourne when I was a kid. I went to high school with Chloe. When my parents were killed, I went to live with my aunt and uncle in California. I haven’t been back in town long, you know.”
“Killed?” He felt a chill along the back of his neck. “How were your parents killed?”
“It’s the damndest thing. We’re told it was a serial killer that got them, though no one knows why. Apparently, the bastard stalked them for weeks. Drained them both of every last drop of blood after breaking their necks. It was awful. Never caught the fucker who did it. I’d like a piece of them, if I could find out who it was.”
“Why weren’t you killed?”
“Probably would have been, if I had been home that night,” Quinn said. “I was at Chloe’s house studying for midterms.”
“Have you seen or spoken to Chloe since?”
“No,” Quinn replied. “I was instructed not to approach her.”
CHAPTER 8
Chloe wasn’t sure, but she thought that maybe she pissed Michael off. If she had there was really nothing that could be done about it, but at least she’d spoken her mind. He stayed outside until she texted him that she was ready to go, and when he came back, he told her that he didn’t need to see the dress, to just pick the one she liked the best. He didn’t seem angry, but his mood had changed. He avoided her eyes when they spoke (a first in the time that she could remember being in his presence). When she found that he was staring at her, it seemed he was trying to figure something out. He looked worried.
“Did something come up with work?” she asked as they headed back to his car.
“Yes, it did,” he said. “I’m going to drop you off back home, and go into the office. I hope you don’t mind. I’d planned for us to do something else this afternoon, but there won’t be time now.”
“Sure, of course.” Chloe had the distinct feeling that he hadn’t known what to say and that her question gave him the perfect out. Maybe he was just embarrassed that he admitted to finding her attractive, and she’d gently rebuffed him. If she could even call it that.
She hadn’t admitted to being attracted to him, but she hadn’t exactly sworn him off either. Maybe he didn’t see the difference. A man like Michael Andreas was probably not used to having someone stand up to him. How often did a woman turn down his advances? Not often, if ever.
“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your day,” he said when they reached her apartment. “I promise not to bother you again this weekend, but I look forward to seeing you Monday morning. Remember, I’ll be sending the car around for you. Try to stay in and rest as much as possible. Next week will be challenging, and you’re going to start it off running.”
“I will,” she said with a smile.
He paused for a moment, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He licked his lips.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
Those blue eyes of his met hers, and she was very certain he was worried about something. He looked like he was concerned for her.
“No, nothing that can’t wait,” he said.
They said their goodbyes and parted. Chloe knew something was wrong. She hadn’t imagined the barometric shift in atmosphere between them. But as long as she didn’t know what was happening, theorizing about it wasn’t going to help solve anything. But it was maddening. Michael’s suggestion about staying in was what she had planned to do anyway. As soon as she got back in the house, she changed back into her pajamas and climbed into bed, ready to curl up with the latest novel she’d bought.
Chloe could have sworn, just before she opened the door and got out of the car, Michael wanted to kiss her.
***
“Sharla, we need to talk, right away.”
It was late afternoon when she received his call. And though she would usually be apt to cuss him out because he was calling her about work on a weekend, she held her peace.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. The tone in his voice sent the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing up.
“I’m coming to your place,” he said, and disconnected the call.
He was at her door within fifteen minutes. If his voice over the line had bothered her, the way that he looked was worse. It wasn’t in the slumped posture, hands in pockets, or the tilt of his head. It was the look in his eyes.
“What happened?”
“How much has Emerson told you about research lately?” he asked.
“Not shit, and I haven’t asked. Why?”
“I was out with Chloe today and realized that we were being watched. It was a human sent by another vampire. I have to know why someone would have us under surveillance. The only thing that I can think of is that someone knows about what he’s working on.”
“How long has he been working on the serum? No one has sought us out in all this time.”
“Not the serum. He approached me about something else. And it has the potential to be bigger than that.”
“Bigger?”
“Something that could kill vampires,” he said. “With a few drops of poison.”
Sharla paused a moment. “He’s started developing a weapon against our kind, and you allowed him to do it? How do we know he’s not dosing us with some of it, or that he won’t in the near future?”
“It’s a gamble,” he admitted.
“You’re not just gambling with your own life though, are you?”
“Sharla….”
“Okay, so you’re being watched. What exactly do you want me to do about it at this point?”
“Find out who it is.”
“And once we know? Then what? I’m all for eliminating threats, but you must be prepared for the fact that this won’t be good.”
“I don’t expect that it would be,” Michael said. “I thought about it, and the opportunity to create such a thing is already a possibility, whether Emerson synthesizes the drug or not. Since he has the ability to do it, I would be a fool not to have him try, and let someone else beat us to that technology. This will give us an upper hand over anybody that thinks they can fuck with us.”
“There are a lot of assumptions to that theory. It only works if Emerson hasn’t already sold us down the river somehow.”
“If that were true, Sharla, at least we would have an equal weapon. And how could he sell us out when he’s under constant watch?” Michael went on. “I mean, we know everything about his movements, don’t we?”
She shook her head. “We do, but if he’s desperate enough or if he’s been approached by someone clever enough, there’s no telling. And you know how I feel about the man, how I’ve always felt about him. I wouldn’t trust him with a plastic teaspoon. But our lives are in his hands.”
“What would you rather?” Michael demanded. “The lives we have now, or the half-lives that we had before, in the dark?” He touched her face. “If it ends, it just does, but I wouldn’t undo any of my actions. W
ould you?”
“You really don’t think I’m going to answer that, do you? I don’t bother with recriminations, but on the other hand I’m not about to pretend the past is anything different than what it is. You never gave me a choice in the matter, remember? You made me vampire on a whim. And when you decided that it pleased you, you asked me to take the serum so that you wouldn’t be alone. So the past is the past.
We’re not in each other’s lives anymore, and I don’t have a problem with that, but you’re never going to convince me to forget that I ended up in this position because we used to be in love with each other. That means if you’ve gone and done something stupid to get us both really killed, I get to bitch about it as much as I want. And I don’t have to listen to any of your metaphorical bullshit about one day in the sunlight as opposed to centuries in the darkness. I don’t want to hear it.”
“That’s fair,” Michael conceded. “I know how much I’ve asked of you in the past, and how much I continue to require of you. And you’re right; for a long time you’re all that I have had. This is a time of crisis and I need you to overlook whatever anger you have toward me right now...”
“When have I ever not done that?” she asked.
“You always have, and I realize that, even if I don’t say it. I need you to do it one more time. Please.”
Sharla sighed. “And you’re politely asking me. I will keep Emerson close, and I will find out who was watching you today. Now I have a question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Where’s your girl fit into this? Because if I find out that she has something to do with it—and after all, she is the only new person around here recently—I’m going to have to take care of her. And I know you already have a little something of an infatuation for her.”
“I do like Chloe. A lot. I don’t believe you’ll find anything incriminating on her. But of course, if she is a traitor, she has to be dealt with. I would only ask that you come to me with whatever evidence you find before striking out. Understand?”
“I can do that. You may also want to reconsider being out so much in public with her, for your welfare, and hers too, if she’s not the cause of this in the first place.
“I can in another week or so, but this week coming in, there’s the charity ball to attend.”
“That. Yes, I almost forgot. Well it’s too late to be canceled, so we’ll have to work around that.”
“Indeed.”
Michael took her hand and squeezed it. Sharla avoided touching him, usually. It often led to things she would regret, or semi-regret, later. Sharla knew just how much Michael liked Chloe and she could tell the attraction was mutual. Michael was a hard man to resist, and Sharla had failed to resist his charms and regretted it later. He was her maker, her former lover, a colleague and brother at other times, but she always had a mixture of love and anger for him. Love because of who he was to her. And anger at his often haphazard and selfish decisions. He hadn’t told her about this turn in Emerson’s research for one specific reason—he knew she’d be pissed that he even considered allowing it. She didn’t even bother to mention that aspect of the problem. Here she was, ready to clean up the mess his impulsivity created. For once, she’d like to see him fix something wrong that she did.
“I hope for your sake that this girl has nothing to do with this,” Sharla said coolly. “There seems to be a few too many coincidences here. And I don’t generally believe in things that are supposed to be coincidence.”
“She’s an innocent,” Michael said. “I don’t believe she has a clue about what we really are, or what’s going on at the company.” He went on to explain his confrontation and the strange conversation with Quinn Masterson. He showed her the picture he’d taken on his camera phone. “Find out everything about him that you can. I thought it better to let him go at this point than to kill him. That way whoever is controlling won’t think they’ve been found out.”
“Damn it,” Sharla sighed. “This is just getting more complicated. At least this gives me somewhere to start.”
*
Sunday turned out to be a peaceful day.
As Michael suggested, she decided to stay in and sleep. It was really what she liked to do most Sundays. Now that she was finished with school, that wasn’t quite as important as it used to be, because there were weeks at a time when she operated on almost no sleep at all, and Sunday was her day to indulge in as much slothful behavior as she wanted. But by the time late afternoon came, she was feeling restless.
There was a farmer’s market that was open a few blocks away, and she decided to go. There were all kinds of exotic fruits and vegetables there that she couldn’t find at the regular grocery, which often inspired her to try something new. On this particular outing she bought pears and oranges, pedestrian enough fare. The scents were so delicious that they drew her in.
She bought a bouquet of lilies. It had been while since she’d had fresh flowers at home, and it was a small treat that she enjoyed. Feeling only a little guilty that this was going on her credit card, she reminded herself that she’d get her first paycheck soon enough. With what she was being paid, she’d easily be able to pay off her credit card and a couple of other pending bills.
As she walked, she thought about the events of the week and how odd it all was. She was relieved and disappointed that Michael had kept his word about not bothering her for the rest of the weekend. Feeling silly, she smiled to herself because she knew she was going to see him in the morning. What a beautiful man! She thought of him with his shirt off, sweaty, staring at her when she and Sharla stepped off the elevator and into his penthouse the other day. She would love to know what that body felt like against her own.
She wondered if he and Sharla were ever a thing. It didn’t matter of they were, but it might explain the woman’s intense dislike, if she saw any other woman that came near Michael as instant competition. But… she still thought that there was something else, another reason. Sharla didn’t strike her as a woman that lacked confidence or became easily jealous. She was a smart, beautiful woman, and with the kind of connections she had at Dreas, could probably pick up another suitor as rich as Michael if she wanted to.
Whatever the reason, she decided it would be best to just avoid her as much as possible and keep a civil tongue whenever they were within each other’s space. There was just no way to know about people, and she couldn’t afford to have Sharla saying anything to Michael that might make him question his decision to hire her.
As Chloe turned the corner back toward her apartment, she got a strange feeling. Like she was being watched.
She glanced over her shoulder, but didn’t see anyone. Feeling a sense of panic, she jogged up the stairs to her door and unlocked it. Without even putting her bags down, she got inside and slammed the door closed, the sound of the lock sliding into place like the click of a bullet into the chamber of a gun.
***
Monday morning, as promised, a black car was waiting downstairs for Chloe to take her to work. She wasn’t sure why Michael had come up with that idea, but she wasn’t going to fight him on it. If nothing else, at least she didn’t have to worry about subway fare and walking the streets when it was cool out. The driver/bodyguard’s name was Adrian, and he informed her that she could expect to see him every morning. She shook his hand and grabbed her things. Remembering Sharla’s warning, she’d made sure that she was ready before Adrian arrived.
Chloe had her badge and access card with her, but she stood at the third set of doors that she needed to get into. There was a code for this particular door, and without her morning coffee, she couldn’t remember what it was to save her life.
“I didn’t remember the code for that door for the first week I was here either,” a voice sounded over her shoulder.
“Oh God! I almost jumped out of my skin,” Chloe cried. “How did you get behind me?”
Michael grinned. “I’ll never tell,” he said. “Don’t worry. You might as well come up wit
h me. Apparently the final touches are being put together for your office, so it will be ready for you later in the day. And we need to talk, anyhow. I have a to-do list for you.”
They took the elevator up. When the doors opened to the penthouse, Chloe shot him a look.
“Okay, so I don’t like going into my actual office this early, so sue me,” he teased. “It’s not like I’m ever really away from work. We can get set up in the dining room.”
Chloe couldn’t help but smile when he showed her in. The dining room had dark, hardwood floors with a fireplace. There was a polar bear head (and it looked like the real thing, fangs and all) mounted above the mantle, and a bear rug just beneath. The elegant glass table, with its black, high backed chairs, seated eighteen. At the back of the room was a wooden buffet table set up with chafing dishes and carafes of coffee.
“Fix yourself a plate, grab some coffee,” he said.
“Well, this was planned,” she said. “Why?”
“Not really,” he replied. “I hope you don’t think I eat all of this by myself! The chef brings these trays up every morning, and he’ll take them back down to the cafeteria around nine. It doesn’t get wasted.”
Because she hadn’t eaten, and it seemed easier not to argue, she helped herself to a croissant and fruit salad. She was surprised when he sat down with his plate, which was heaped with some of everything. A crystal chandelier hung above the table, and for a moment she found herself staring at it.
“This is a lovely space,” she said softly, and then turned her attention to Michael. “Can I ask you a question though?”
“Yes.”
“I understand the whole thing of proximity and convenience. But you don’t feel the need to be somewhere else, where you’re not so close to work? That has to be a dream—and a nightmare—for a workaholic.”
“Are you saying that I’m worked obsessed?” He arched an eyebrow.
“I don’t know you well enough to make that judgment yet.”
“Well after you’ve been here another month or so,” he said lightly, “maybe you’ll give me your opinion then.”
Bitten By The Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Vampire Romance Page 13
