Fortunately, I’d shoved my wallet and phone into my jeans, thinking I might do some shopping like Remy had suggested. I inserted myself into a crowd of Japanese tourists, then when they passed the Harborplace, darted in one end of the mall and out the other. A few seconds later, I was in a taxi on my way back to my apartment.
The driver dropped me on the corner. He offered to wait, but I shook my head. “No thanks. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
As I walked down the street, I looked around me. So much had happened, it seemed like I’d been gone a year. But there was my neighbor, ensconced in her usual lawn chair on her stoop, and across the street, four kids were kicking a soccer ball back and forth in the deepening shadows.
Everything was normal. Only I had changed.
I reached my house and walked up the stoop, then had to knock on the door because I’d left my key in my backpack at the hotel.
Fortunately, Jim was home. “Star!” He gave me a hug and then stepped back to allow me in. “How are you, hon?”
“I’m good.”
Jim was blond and buff, with a cute little goatee. He raised a sandy brow, taking in my new red sweater and skinny jeans. “We’ve been worried about you, but I see you found a sugar daddy.”
My cheeks heated. “Art patron,” I muttered.
“Do tell.”
I liked Jim, but I knew if I told him about Remy, the entire neighborhood would know by the end of the evening that I was shacking up with a vampire.
“It’s complicated,” I said with a shrug. “Look, I forgot my keys but I want to pick up a few things. Can I get the spare key from you?”
“Sure.” He went into his apartment and returned with the key a minute later.
I took it and then smacked my forehead. “Shit. I forgot the rent.”
“Already been paid through the end of the year.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Guess he didn’t tell you.”
“No.”
“Well, happy birthday and merry Christmas.”
“Yeah.” I shook my head. How could you stay pissed off at a man like that? “Well, I have to get going.” I turned and ran up the stairs.
“Just one thing,” Jim called. “When will you be back for good?”
“June sixth.” I swallowed, because that wasn’t so long now, and continued on up to the attic.
Jim’s voice floated after me. “And Star?”
“Yeah?”
“You go girl.”
I gave a bark of laughter. “Thanks,” I yelled back. “I think.”
Inside, my apartment smelled of stale air and turpentine. Nothing had changed, but like my street, it felt weird, like someone else had lived there. So much had happened since that night at Oakley’s. I ran my gaze over the paintings propped along one wall. They weren’t bad, but they didn’t have the power of the one I’d done of Remy.
I ran my finger over the top of the largest painting. Somehow I knew I was never going to show these. But they’d served their purpose. If I hadn’t made these paintings, I’d never have been able to go deeper.
Outside the windows, the sun was setting. By now, Malik had sent out an alarm. I needed to get back to the hotel before the man went apeshit.
I grabbed my favorite T-shirt and jeans—the ones I usually painted in—and stuffed them into a canvas bag. I was turning to leave when I came back and got the small eight-by-ten-inch painting of my mom. I’d painted it when I was still a teenager from a photo taken a few months before she died. The painting wasn’t that good technically, but it was all I had to remember her by.
The last time I’d seen my dad, he’d knocked me on my ass and gone looking for it, saying he was going to burn it. “You think you’re a fucking artist?” he’d yelled, snatching up one of my sketchbooks and ripping out the sketches one by one and throwing them on the floor. “You’ll never be an artist. You’ll never be anything but a drain on some man.”
Then he reached for the portrait of my mom, but I lunged past him and got to it first. “No,” I growled, holding it to my chest. “You can’t have it.”
He was so shocked, he went stock still. Then he roared my name, but I had already darted past him and out of the apartment. I never went back.
Now I wrapped the painting carefully in another T-shirt and put it in the bag.
Outside, I hurried toward Orleans Street, a major road where I could catch a taxi. As I turned the corner, I saw a familiar cropped Afro ahead of me.
“Janelle?”
It was her. She turned around. “Star?” Her eyes widened and then she grinned. “How are you, girl?”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s good, that’s good. I wondered what happened that night at Oakley’s.”
“Oakley accused me of ripping him off.”
Her plucked black brows shot up. “He did?”
“Yeah—a hundred grand.”
She blinked. “You’re shitting me.”
“I didn’t take it,” I added. “In case you’re wondering.”
“No, no, of course not. Not your style.” She glanced at my outfit. “But it looks like it worked out then. You and the vamp.”
I inhaled sharply. She knew about Remy?
Things fell in place with an audible snap. Janelle had been the one who recommended me for the job. In a club I’d never heard about, that within days had accused me of theft. And Remy had been right there to rescue me.
Suddenly, I knew.
“Yeah,” I said, and, taking a stab in the dark, added, “Thanks for getting me the job.”
She shrugged. “No thanks necessary. That dude—Malik—paid me enough.”
Fury punched through me. For a few moments, I couldn’t breathe, I was so angry.
Janelle had been in on this?
And Remy. The bastard had set the whole thing up.
I drew a jagged breath. “You knew? That he wanted me to be his fucking blood whore?”
“Well, not exactly. All I had to do was tell you about the job at the club.”
“But you knew. Because why else would a vampire want me?”
She had the grace to look ashamed. “Five thousand dollars, Star—and all I had to do was let you know about that job at the club, and then swear never to tell you how you got it. But I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t thought it was for your own good. You know you needed the money. Hell, for the kind of money a vamp pays, I’d have done it myself. But Malik said that de la Lune wanted you.”
“And you took the money over me? We’re friends, Janelle. At least I thought we were.”
“What was the harm? I didn’t know anything about you getting beat on. I bet that wasn’t the vamp’s idea.”
“No,” I agreed bitterly. “Remy wouldn’t want his dinner harmed.”
She set a hand on her hip. “What are you so pissed off about? You could have just said no.”
“No,” I snarled, “I couldn’t. Oakley—or Malik—set it up to look like I’d ripped the club off for a hundred grand. I had one day to come up with the money. One fucking day.”
Janelle blinked. Then she scowled back. “Well, anyway. Looks like the vamp treats you good. I mean, those are designer jeans, girlfriend—and I bet he gave you a whole closetful.”
“That’s not the point. You set me up.” My fists clenched. I was a heartbeat away from knocking her on her ass. “Friends don’t do that to friends.”
“Okay, okay.” She raised her palms and backed away. “Calm down. I’m sorry, all right?”
“Fuck sorry.” I dug my fingernails into my palms and took a deep breath. I wanted to slap her silly, but she wasn’t the one I was really angry at. “You know what, Janelle? Just go to hell.” I strode off, so pissed off at Janelle, Remy, and the rest of them that my chest was a tight, seething knot.
I reached Orleans Street and turned east, forgetting all about catching a taxi. It was completely dark now, but I barely noticed.
I turned south toward the Inner Harbor
. I had walked halfway back when I realized I didn’t have to return at all. I had Remy’s bonus. I could just take it and run. It would serve the son of a bitch right.
Tears pricked my eyes. I swiped them angrily away. How could I have let myself believe that Remy de la Lune was anything but a beautiful, lying snake?
Whatever Oakley had done, Remy had been behind it. Oh, Malik had done the dirty work, but at Remy’s orders. Because someone had to have doctored the video to make it look like I had stolen that money.
I shook my head. God, I was stupid. The man had moved me around like a chess piece. How could I have been so blind not to see it? Remy de la Lune had wanted me from that first morning on my stoop. He was rich and had the resources needed to hire the best hackers in the world, not to mention Malik’s unquestionable loyalty to him.
And to think I’d been missing him. My stomach clenched. I wasn’t just an idiot; I was a pathetic, lovesick idiot.
I’d almost reached the Inner Harbor; I could see the rooftop of Remy’s hotel from here.
My chin shot up. “Fuck you,” I growled and marched forward.
I was not going to slink away as if I were the lying, sneaking son of a bitch. I was going to have it out with Remy, and then I was going to leave.
By now it was late enough that the downtown area had emptied of office workers, and all the tourists were either at dinner or in their hotels. Suddenly, I realized I was the only one on this particular block.
My skin prickled warily. I was passing a parking garage illuminated only by two small red lights, signaling it was closed. I hurried past the entrance.
Steps sounded inside the garage. I whipped my head around to see two men in black suits moving toward me.
Hell.
I broke into a run, but barely got a few yards when one of them somehow appeared in front of me. At the same time a hand clamped on my shoulder from behind and jerked me to a halt.
I froze, breathing hard.
The man in front gave a slow smile that froze me to the marrow. “Good evening, Signorina,” he said in a thick Italian accent. “I have been looking for you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Remy
I was on my feet the instant the jet touched down at the Baltimore airport.
I’d left Paris bone-weary. Not tired—as a vampire, I wasn’t prone to such a human weakness—just weary with my life, and what it sometimes required of me.
The trouble in Paris had been traced to two of my top people, one a woman I’d turned myself three hundred years ago. I’d had to kill them both. I’d done it unflinchingly—it was them or me—but it had left a bad taste in my mouth.
Before they’d died, I’d compelled them to tell me the whole story. They’d fought the compulsion with everything they had, but I was stronger—and angry. The man behind this was an Italian named Lorenzo who’d been turned just a few years after me. My clan was made up of five covens, and Lorenzo was lord of a branch on the Italian/French border.
But Lorenzo wanted it all. I’d wasted a whole day hunting the S.O.B. until I learned he’d gone to ground somewhere in Italy.
This wasn’t over. As far as I was concerned, Lorenzo was a dead man.
But while my people traced him, I left for the States, eager to get back to Star. I hadn’t fed since I’d left her, save for a couple of bottles of pre-packaged blood. My spirited little courtesan had ruined me for other women.
Now all I wanted to do was sink myself into her warm, welcoming body—and feed. My beast and I were in complete agreement—we needed Star. Now.
I pressed the intercom button. “Faster,” I told the chauffeur.
“Yes, sir.”
I sat back and waited impatiently as he drove the few miles remaining to the hotel. The bond between Star and myself had grown while I’d been away. I had sensed it even in France, but now, as the limo headed into Baltimore, it strengthened with every mile.
My fangs lengthened in anticipation. I would take her to bed, and then tell her the good news—my men had traced her father to the Philippines. We had him now. I’d ordered them to find him and bring him to France. I intended to keep my promise to her, but Tommy Salazar was going to pay for every bruise he’d ever put on her—outside and inside.
Malik met me in the lobby. “Monsieur.” His big fists were balled.
I knew something was wrong, but I wasn’t in the mood for anything but Star right now. “Later,” I snapped.
“But monsieur”—Malik hurried after me into the elevator—“this is important.”
“What?” The doors closed behind us and I hit the button for the top floor.
“It’s about Mademoiselle Salazar.”
I swung my head in his direction. “Talk,” I said in a low, dangerous voice.
Sweat beaded on his broad forehead. “She—I—”
“What?” My hand was around his throat before I realized I’d moved. I gave him a hard shake. “What the fuck did you do?”
He met my eyes. “Nothing, monsieur. I swear. She—she just disappeared. We went outside for her walk, and the next thing I knew she was gone. I had a second man as backup that even she didn’t know about, but somehow she got away from both of us.”
My heart clenched.
I knew damn well Malik didn’t like Star, but hell, he didn’t like anyone who grew too close to me. But I also knew through the blood bond that Malik would do whatever it took to keep her safe, which is why I’d left him in charge of her protection.
Now I inhaled slowly, testing his scent for lies—just in case. But he was telling the truth. I shoved him away, disgusted. “When?”
“About ninety minutes ago.” I snarled and he hurried to say, “I have five men out looking for her.”
I bit out a curse. “Damn that woman.”
I should’ve set that compulsion on her so she couldn’t leave the hotel—or at least, so she’d feel compelled to stay near Malik at all times. But no, I’d been weak. When she’d told me to stop, I had.
The woman was in serious trouble. When I found her, she was going to be lucky if I didn’t turn her over my knee and spank some sense into her.
But first I had to find her.
I slammed my hand onto the elevator buttons. We lurched to a stop at the fourth floor. I flew out of the elevator and toward the stairs, my whole self focused on the bond linking me to Star.
Then it wavered. I concentrated harder.
Goddamn it to hell. Someone else was feeding on her.
My whole body went cold.
“Call off your men,” I ordered Malik, who was close on my heels. “There’s nothing they can do. A vampire has her, maybe more than one. And then stand by in the limousine. I’ll let you know where to come as soon as I find her.”
Because I would find her—or die trying.
I was in the stairwell now. I swung over the railing, dropped the four stories to the ground floor and raced through the foyer at vampire-fast speed past a couple of open-mouthed hotel guests.
I hit the street at a full-out run. She was about two miles away. At this speed, I could cover the distance in five minutes.
I prayed to the dark gods that would be fast enough.
Because I had a bad feeling I’d discovered where Lorenzo had gone after France.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Star
The two vampires bundled me into a black sedan and headed west.
Smart. West Baltimore had neighborhoods where you could shoot a man dead in front of a dozen witnesses and no one would admit to having seen a thing.
We stopped at a red light and I surreptitiously felt for the door handle.
A chilly hand descended on my thigh. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
It was the Italian vampire, the one who seemed to be in charge. He had olive skin and the golden-brown eyes of a wolf.
The other man was at the wheel. He had pale skin and British features, and hadn’t spoken except to say, “Yes, sir,” or “No, sir.”
The Italian vampire stroked my thig
h. His fangs gleamed in the shadows and I froze. I knew that meant he was preparing to feed.
“You wouldn’t get two meters before I’d be on you,” he added. “But be my guest…I like to chase my prey.”
I dragged in a breath and released the handle.
We drove down an unlit alley and stopped behind a decrepit warehouse. The parking lot was illuminated by a single weak light. A dumpster at one end of the lot spilled over with trash and all three loading-dock doors sported graffiti.
The driver clicked a remote and the middle door lifted with a screech of metal. We drove inside and the door clanged back to the ground, leaving us in darkness save for a ring of amber-tinted lights around the warehouse’s perimeter. Not that there was anything to see. The large, cave-like interior was empty except for us.
The vampire reached across me to open the door. “After you, Signorina Salazar.”
He knew my name.
A chill ran down my spine. I’d been too busy thinking about escape to wonder why I’d been kidnapped, but now I realized this hadn’t been random. These men had been after me.
The driver got out of the car, but I stayed right where I was. “Who are you?”
“Lorenzo. Lord Lorenzo. The Count spoke of me, perhaps?”
I shook my head. “Never heard of you.”
Lorenzo didn’t like that. With a scowl, he slid past me and exited the car, and then reached in for me. His hands settled on my upper arms and I flinched at how cold they were. Unlike Remy, he either didn’t bother to warm his skin, or couldn’t. It was like being touched by a dead man.
“Come.”
I planted my feet on the car floor and grabbed the handle above the door, but he plucked me out as easily as if I were a child. The next instant, I was up against the side of the car and he was yanking my hair out of the way. His mouth descended, fangs extended.
My heart skittered. “No.” I shoved against his chest and broke away, but he was on me before I got two feet.
I panicked, screaming and wrenching myself from side to side, but he was too strong. When I came back to myself, he had me pinned against the car, wrists on either side of my head.
Ensnared: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Page 9
