Casa Dracula 3 - The Bride Of Casa Dracula by Marta Acosta Page A

a breakfast tray. “Good morning.”
    “Good morning,” I said.
    She placed the tray on my lap. “The driver will be back in time to take you to the airport this afternoon. Lord Ian asked me to tell you good-bye for him.”
    “Ian’s gone?”
    “He left early to meet Ilena.” Ms. Smith went to open the drapes. It was a beautiful morning. “I’m glad he’s found someone after all he’s been through.”
    “What do you mean?”
    She looked puzzled. “You know about his parents?”
    I shook my head.
    “Not everyone is meant to be a parent,” she said kindly.
    “My mother Regina wasn’t.” I doubted that Ian’s parents could have been more unfit than the woman who’d filled a kiddie pool to the brim and left me in there alone as a toddler.
    “He’s always been so responsible, even when he was a boy. He insisted they take in Cornelia. She was such a beautiful child, you can’t imagine, but frail and traumatized after her parents’ deaths.”
    “She seems so confident now.” When I tried to imagine Ian and Cornelia as children, I envisioned them in miniature form.
    “He brought her out of her shell, and now that he’s found someone special, we hope that Cornelia will find someone, too.”
    Just as she seemed about to say something else, to confide in me, my cell phone rang.
    Although Ms. Smith still smiled, her expression became more closed. “I’ll leave you to your business.”
    Mercedes was calling. “I’ve got some info for you.”
    “Talk to me.”
    “My subway expert knows of a few locations, including one near the address you gave me, with suspiciously high electrical usage and other odd things. He thinks there’s an abandoned tunnel there, one that’s not on any known maps.”
    “Does he know any possible routes to this hypothetical tunnel?”
    “He’s got a few ideas, but he’s never actually tried to get in that area. Milagro, what are you thinking?”
    “I’m thinking that I might do a little spelunking. Where does your pal think access to the tunnel may be?”
    She told me and added, “Don’t do anything too stupid. A lot of crazies live down there, too.”
    “Worry not about my safety, O brown damsel.”
    “I’m not worried about you getting hurt,” she said very quietly. “I’m worried about you hurting someone.”
    I worried about that, too. “I only whack people upside the head when they deserve to be whacked upside the head.”
    I dressed in my black suit so I looked like any other competent and capable city girl. I told Ms. Smith that I was going out for a walk and I’d be back in a few hours, and then I took off to find the vamp cave. On the way to the suspect address, I saw a manila envelope at the top of a trash bin and picked it up.
    The building was in the middle of a block, brand spanking new, stainless steel and glass, and I was able to go right by the security desk, carrying my envelope as if I were delivering something. It was only when I got in the elevator that I saw that the button to the basement required a key. You didn’t need an F.U. degree to guess that the stairway access to the basement would also be locked.
    I had been unceremoniously let go from enough jobs to know that the majority of workers were sadly in need of interesting diversions. I unbuttoned my blouse until the lace from my bra peeked out.
    Returning to the main floor, I surveyed the three security guards stationed around the lobby. An appealingly beefy guy with his hair cut close to his head was sitting at a desk in the corner and wearing a suit with the firm badge. I strolled over to him and smiled. “I need to talk to your supervisor.”
    His hazel eyes took in the view and he returned my smile. “I’m the supervisor. What do you need?”
    I inched closer to him and dropped my voice. “I need to get to the basement. I left something down there.”
    “Access is restricted,” he said.
    “Tell me about it. I left my key down there.”
    “Who gave you a key? Who are