to extract the gold pen and a matching business card holder, neatly plucking out one thick card. He scribbled. “This is her phone number. She’ll let you know when I’m available…” He trailed off as his nostrils flared. With a frown his head came up, and his gaze sharpened on the front window.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hmm? Nothing, my dear.” He raised a finger at the men sitting interference at the tables in front of us, then flicked the guy with the boat-sail nose outside. The man’s stalk as he left was pure menace.
I frowned. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
“I’m certain. Thank you for agreeing to tour my lab. I know you’ll find our facilities and compensation compelling.” He tucked away his pen and card holder and swept out.
I glanced at the card. It had Marrone’s name and the name of his pharmaceutical conglomerate, but no specific lab. Probably Bloodrug (I’d only ever seen it on the web as bloodrug.org), but I’d have to get the details from the PA. Pocketing the card, I stared after Marrone.
As I watched him go, my mind churned. Marrone was interested in blood drugs.
Like my brother-in-law’s vampire poison?
I’d gotten my first glimmering that vampires were real about six years ago, as a bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding—during her bachelorette party. She let slip all kinds of interesting things when we were too drunk to remember. Don’t ask. It was Vegas and most of the casinos accepted our apologies the next day.
I would have talked to her about it, but everyone treated it as this big secret, whispers and code words. Actually, I think I did talk once. Someone got me on the phone with a dark, ultra-bass voice and…and I don’t remember much after that. I forgot about vampires until I read my drunken scrawl in my journal from the Vegas trip.
I remembered, and I didn’t ask again.
Then, five years ago, a real vampire called me, asking for a sample of my blood to track down my sister, after which my sister told me her husband had been poisoned.
But here’s the thing. The poison was mixed with a unique thermostabilizer to keep the enzymes from degrading at body temperature—giving it a signature.
That signature? It was also on the odd compound I’d discovered in high school, a compound everyone from the chem teacher to the mayor said didn’t exist.
And where did I find these chemicals that didn’t exist?
In the Meiers River. The signature compounds in a vampire poison were also in our water supply.
Yeah. Start the woo-woo music.
Now drug magnate Giuseppe Marrone was interested in a parallel track of research? But why would a vampire want a vampire poison?
Rubbing my eyes, I sighed and got to my feet.
I didn’t want to go into Marrone’s lair. But I had to if I wanted to discover exactly what he was up to.
I stepped outside maybe thirty seconds behind Marrone, but he was nowhere in sight. My gaze swiveled left-right along the sidewalk.
While my head was turned to the right, a hand grabbed my left arm.
Instinct took over. I spun into the grab, my right palm raised to smash face.
A second hand snared my wrist, lightning fast, and pulled me flush to the hottest body in the world.
My breasts pressed to a chest so hard it could have been steel…Steel…crap.
“ Luke? I thought you left.”
He snarled, “You didn’t tell me your meeting was with him .”
Any surprise or delight went poof. I shook loose. “It’s none of your business who I meet.”
“Maybe not. But Marrone’s dangerous.”
I raised my upper lip, curled my brow, and gave him the facial equivalent of “Yuh think ?” “So is Emerson. So are you. So are a lot of people I deal with. I still have to deal with them.”
He stared at me, so much heat in his expression I expected steam to curl from his flared nostrils.
Maybe he’d even kiss me…
A man in a ski mask and dark jacket emerged from the shadows, pointing a raised gun. In a rough voice he rasped, “Gimme all your
“What’s wrong?”
“Hmm? Nothing, my dear.” He raised a finger at the men sitting interference at the tables in front of us, then flicked the guy with the boat-sail nose outside. The man’s stalk as he left was pure menace.
I frowned. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
“I’m certain. Thank you for agreeing to tour my lab. I know you’ll find our facilities and compensation compelling.” He tucked away his pen and card holder and swept out.
I glanced at the card. It had Marrone’s name and the name of his pharmaceutical conglomerate, but no specific lab. Probably Bloodrug (I’d only ever seen it on the web as bloodrug.org), but I’d have to get the details from the PA. Pocketing the card, I stared after Marrone.
As I watched him go, my mind churned. Marrone was interested in blood drugs.
Like my brother-in-law’s vampire poison?
I’d gotten my first glimmering that vampires were real about six years ago, as a bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding—during her bachelorette party. She let slip all kinds of interesting things when we were too drunk to remember. Don’t ask. It was Vegas and most of the casinos accepted our apologies the next day.
I would have talked to her about it, but everyone treated it as this big secret, whispers and code words. Actually, I think I did talk once. Someone got me on the phone with a dark, ultra-bass voice and…and I don’t remember much after that. I forgot about vampires until I read my drunken scrawl in my journal from the Vegas trip.
I remembered, and I didn’t ask again.
Then, five years ago, a real vampire called me, asking for a sample of my blood to track down my sister, after which my sister told me her husband had been poisoned.
But here’s the thing. The poison was mixed with a unique thermostabilizer to keep the enzymes from degrading at body temperature—giving it a signature.
That signature? It was also on the odd compound I’d discovered in high school, a compound everyone from the chem teacher to the mayor said didn’t exist.
And where did I find these chemicals that didn’t exist?
In the Meiers River. The signature compounds in a vampire poison were also in our water supply.
Yeah. Start the woo-woo music.
Now drug magnate Giuseppe Marrone was interested in a parallel track of research? But why would a vampire want a vampire poison?
Rubbing my eyes, I sighed and got to my feet.
I didn’t want to go into Marrone’s lair. But I had to if I wanted to discover exactly what he was up to.
I stepped outside maybe thirty seconds behind Marrone, but he was nowhere in sight. My gaze swiveled left-right along the sidewalk.
While my head was turned to the right, a hand grabbed my left arm.
Instinct took over. I spun into the grab, my right palm raised to smash face.
A second hand snared my wrist, lightning fast, and pulled me flush to the hottest body in the world.
My breasts pressed to a chest so hard it could have been steel…Steel…crap.
“ Luke? I thought you left.”
He snarled, “You didn’t tell me your meeting was with him .”
Any surprise or delight went poof. I shook loose. “It’s none of your business who I meet.”
“Maybe not. But Marrone’s dangerous.”
I raised my upper lip, curled my brow, and gave him the facial equivalent of “Yuh think ?” “So is Emerson. So are you. So are a lot of people I deal with. I still have to deal with them.”
He stared at me, so much heat in his expression I expected steam to curl from his flared nostrils.
Maybe he’d even kiss me…
A man in a ski mask and dark jacket emerged from the shadows, pointing a raised gun. In a rough voice he rasped, “Gimme all your
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