Belonging by K.L. Kreig Page B

tried holding back a smirk, quite unsuccessfully, he might add. His death stare shut that shit down. “No, my lord. No boyfriend, no friends really to speak of that I could find. She’s quite the loner.”
    It wasn’t much information, but it certainly gave a small glimpse into her psyche. Shuffled from home to home, living on the streets, no real friends, no real relationships, no acceptance, no love. She’d only known abandonment, hurt and distrust. So much made sense now. But he still had so many questions. How much would his kitten tell him about herself? Little, he was certain. She was fiercely prideful and would never want him to know of her past. Could he tell her about his? As much as it would hurt, the answer was a resounding yes. Give a little to get a little.
    “Keep digging. I want you to uncover every nugget of information available.”
    “Yes, my lord.”
    T had just left when Damian’s cell phone rang. Unknown number. He almost let it go to voicemail, but his gut screamed this was important.
    “Damian.”
    “My lord, it’s Frankie Durillo, the manager of Dragonfly.”
    “I know who you are, Frankie. You don’t need to give me your fucking title.” Fucker.
    “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I just got a call from my head bartender and thought it strange, so I decided to call you.”
    “Human, you are making no fucking sense. Either spit it out or I’m hanging up.” Jesus, was this guy always ready to piss his pants? He really needed to talk to Dev about this asshole. Maybe he should fire him and replace him with someone actually competent. Dev would likely thank him. Yes, he’d add that to his to-do list. Besides, he didn’t like the possessive way Frankie acted about his mate.
    “My apologies, my lord. Someone came looking for Analise last evening, shortly after you left.”
    Ice froze his veins. She’d been here for just a few short days. Who would be looking for her? “Who?”
    “I don’t know, my lord. He refused to leave a name. Said he was an old friend. He asked when she was working again.”
    “Pull up the security footage and send it to my phone. I want it within the next thirty minutes, max. I want to see this asshole.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    Damian hung up and dialed Giselle. It was highly inconvenient sometimes to not be able to speak telepathically with all vampires, but such was the ways of their kind. They could only speak in that manner with their mates and those in their own Regent. They didn’t even have that ability between the three lords themselves and they didn’t even have that ability with those in their Regent if they were too far away.
    “Giselle, I need to see you now.” Her response was a heavy sigh.
    Fucking woman. He prayed for patience.
    Several minutes later she came sauntering into the office. He held back a retort about what took her so damn long. If his suspicions were correct, they may not need the detective’s work, but it would certainly help verify what he felt in his bones to be true.
    “Have you reached out to the detective yet about the Eau Claire baby?”
    “No.”
    He breathed. In and out. In and out. Hold your tongue, Damian .
    “That needs to be done today. Please.” Christ, that hurt. Physically painful.
    “Fine. I’ll see him this morning.” He nodded and she left. She was getting one nicety from him today. That was it.
    He knew what the detective would find about the Eau Claire baby delivered so many years ago. T’s comments from yesterday came racing back.
    “He did say that the Eau Claire female was left with the family in the winter months, December or January timeframe. That one was kind of a debacle and the adoptive parents called the cops on him, so he left the baby and ran. We don’t know whether the parents kept that baby or not.”
    His money was on not. That female became a ward of the state. Bounced around from foster home to foster home until she’d had enough and ran away, living on the streets. His gut was