Blake's Pursuit E-Book

Tina Folsom

• Herausgeber: Tina Folsom
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Serie: Scanguards Vampires
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Seitenzahl: 400

Beschreibung

Blake Bond, vampire and Chief of Hybrid Security at Scanguards and Lilo Schroeder, a human, are thrown together when their mutual friend Hannah goes missing. As they unravel the mystery of Hannah's disappearance, they uncover a dangerous plot by rogue vampires that may endanger the lives of all humans. Not only do Blake and Lilo have to stay one step ahead of their foes, they must also fight their sizzling mutual attraction. For despite all of Lilo's courage in the face of danger, there's no telling how she will react once Blake reveals his true identity… Scanguards Vampires: Book 1: Samson's Lovely Mortal Book 2: Amaury's Hellion Book 3: Gabriel's Mate Book 4: Yvette's Haven Book 5: Zane's Redemption Book 6: Quinn's Undying Rose Book 7: Oliver's Hunger Book 8: Thomas's Choice Book 8 1/2: Silent Bite (A Scanguards Wedding Novella) Book 9: Cain's Identity Book 10: Luther's Return Novella: Mortal Wish Book 11: Blake's Pursuit ...and more to come... Stealth Guardians Series: Lover Uncloaked (#1) Master Unchained (#2) coming in summer 2016 (and featuring a Scanguards character) Out of Olympus Series: Book 1: A Touch of Greek Book 2: A Scent of Greek Book 3: A Taste of Greek Book 4: A Hush of Greek (pre-order now) Venice Vampyr Novella Series: Venice Vampyr (#1) Venice Vampyr (#2): Final Affair Venice Vampyr (#3): Sinful Treasure Venice Vampyr (#4): Sensual Danger Eternal Bachelors Club: Lawful Escort Lawful Lover Lawful Wife One Foolish Night One Long Embrace One Sizzling Touch In collaboration with Lara Adrian: The Phoenix Code Book 1 & 2: Cut and Run Book 3 & 4: Hide and Seek

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Book Description

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Epilogue

About the Author

Copyright

Blake’s Pursuit

Scanguards Vampires #11

by

Tina Folsom

Book Description

Blake Bond, vampire and chief of hybrid security at Scanguards and Lilo Schroeder, a human, are thrown together when their mutual friend Hannah goes missing. As they unravel the mystery of Hannah’s disappearance, they uncover a dangerous plot by rogue vampires that may endanger the lives of all humans.

Not only do Blake and Lilo have to stay one step ahead of their foes, they must also fight their sizzling mutual attraction. For despite all of Lilo’s courage in the face of danger, there’s no telling how she will react once Blake reveals his true identity…

The Scanguards Vampires series - over 1 Million copies sold worldwide!

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The Scanguards Vampires series so far:

Book 1: Samson's Lovely Mortal

Book 2: Amaury's Hellion

Book 3: Gabriel's Mate

Book 4: Yvette's Haven

Book 5: Zane's Redemption

Book 6: Quinn's Undying Rose

Book 7: Oliver's Hunger

Book 8: Thomas's Choice

Book 8 1/2: Silent Bite (A Scanguards Wedding Novella)

Book 9: Cain's Identity

Book 10: Luther's Return

Book 11: Blake's Pursuit

Novella 11 1/2: Fateful Reunion

Book 12: John's Yearning

Book 13: Ryder's Storm (Scanguards Hybrids #1)

Book 14: Damian’s Conquest (Scanguards Hybrids #2)

“I’m addicted to Tina Folsom’s books! The Scanguards series is one of the hottest things to happen to vampire romance. If you love scorching, fast-paced reads, don’t miss this thrilling series!” --- Lara Adrian, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Midnight Breed series

Blake’s Pursuit © 2016 Tina Folsom

--Scanguards® is a registered trademark--

1

She shouldn’t have ignored the phone call.

Lilo stared out the window of the taxi as it made its way through rush hour traffic. Her flight from Omaha had been delayed due to heavy snow in Nebraska, and the plane had touched down in San Francisco well after sunset. Anxious, she tapped her fingers on the smooth leather of her handbag and replayed Hannah’s pleading message in her mind.

“Lilo, you have to call me back. I have nobody to talk to about this. I need your help. You always know what to do.”

A faint smile stole over her lips, and involuntarily she shook her head. Her best friend since high school had such confidence in her. As if she could fix anything. But what if she couldn’t fix this? What if it was already too late?

Hell, she didn’t even know what there was to fix. Hannah was gone. Vanished from the face of the earth.

Mrs. Bergdorf’s call the previous evening had confirmed it. “Hannah never called me for my birthday. Lilo, you know she always calls. She’s not answering her phone. I’m worried about her.”

And so was Lilo. Because despite all her faults, Hannah had always been a considerate daughter. If she hadn’t called her mother with birthday wishes, it meant she hadn’t been able to get to a phone. Had Hannah fallen ill and wasn’t aware of the important date she’d missed? It was unlikely that a flu or cold would make her so delirious that she’d forget her mother’s birthday. Perhaps Hannah had had an accident and was unable to communicate. But even if she’d been taken to a hospital, the hospital staff would have notified her mother and Lilo, too, because both were listed as Hannah’s emergency contacts. No, something was wrong. She could sense it: something terrible had happened to Hannah.

Guilt surged through Lilo. She’d been under deadline stress, having had difficulty finishing her latest mystery novel. Her editor had been breathing down her neck, so she’d hunkered down and shut out the outside world to finish the damn book. But at what cost? She’d broken her promise to Hannah, a promise they’d made in ninth grade: that they would always be there for each other. But instead of calling her friend to find out what was wrong, she’d finished her book so she wouldn’t miss her deadline.

Lilo sighed. What kind of friend did that? She’d heard the pleading tone in Hannah’s voice message when she’d called only a few days before her mother’s birthday. Hannah had sounded tense, worried. Lilo wished she hadn’t let the phone call go to voicemail and instead picked up and talked to her friend. What if Ronny, that no-good loser she was dating, had hurt her? Why else would Hannah say she couldn’t talk to anybody but Lilo? If only she knew more about Hannah and Ronny’s relationship, but her friend had been very tight-lipped about it, never revealing much about what Ronny did. As if she was ashamed of him in some way.

The only thing she knew was that Ronny was very possessive, and that was a trait Lilo had never liked in men. It was one reason why her relationships never lasted long. She needed to be independent, and trusting somebody didn’t come easily. Maybe her mystery writer brain had something to do with it. She simply knew the darkness of the human psyche, and was more aware than others what could lurk beneath the surface.

After Mrs. Bergdorf’s call, Lilo had booked the first flight out to San Francisco, determined to find Hannah and figure out what had happened. And she wouldn’t go home until she’d accomplished that task. She only hoped that she wouldn’t have bad news for Hannah’s mother when she did.

“This is it,” the cab driver said, as he came to a stop in front of a three-story apartment building. “Number 426.”

Hannah had raved about the neighborhood when she’d first moved in, but now, at night and with few streetlights to illuminate the area, Lilo couldn’t understand the attraction of this steep street in North Beach. She was glad that the cab driver had stopped directly in front of the garage, so she wouldn’t have to haul her suitcase up the hill.

After paying for her ride, Lilo walked up to the front door. There were six door bells, one for each apartment. Bergdorf was written on one of the bells. She rang it. As she expected, there was no reply. But she wouldn’t let such a small obstacle stop her. She wasn’t a mystery writer for nothing. And she knew Hannah better than her own sister. After locking herself out of her new apartment and paying an exorbitant amount for a locksmith—a story that her friend had recounted in minute detail—Hannah had been determined never to get caught without a key again, and together they’d figured out the best hiding place for a spare.

Lilo let her eyes wander around the entrance. A bougainvillea snaked up one side of the wall along a trellis. It wasn’t in bloom. Even in San Francisco, where it was a balmy fifty degrees outside in early January, it wasn’t warm enough for the plant to flower. The leaves hid most of the wooden trellis, but Lilo knew what she was looking for: a brown string with a key tied to the end of it, blending perfectly into the wall. She pulled on it. The key emerged from its hiding place, a deep crack in the foundation, probably caused by an earthquake.

Key in hand, Lilo let herself into the building and found Hannah’s apartment on the first floor. She listened for sounds coming from inside the unit, but it was quiet. As she pushed the door open and stepped in, she crinkled her nose. It smelled of rotten food.

She flipped the light switch and closed the door behind her.

The place was nothing special, a one-bedroom apartment with a large living room, a separate kitchen and a small bathroom. Despite its size, Hannah’s touch was everywhere. The funky furniture and decorations from around the world were quintessential Hannah. This was her home.

Lilo shrugged off her coat and placed it over a chair, then walked to the open doorway from which the strong odor emanated. It was the kitchen. The under-the-counter light was on, and the cause of the smell was immediately evident: a half-eaten can of dog food sat on the kitchen counter. She glanced around. There was another door, leading back into the small hallway that connected to the bathroom and bedroom on one end and the living room and front door on the other.

On the floor near the refrigerator stood two bowls, one filled with water, the other empty, but not clean. A dog had eaten from it recently. Frankenfurter.

“Frankenfurter?” she called out to Hannah’s terrier, but got no reply.

Lilo grabbed the spoiled can and tossed it in the trash, then opened the kitchen window to let in some fresh air, before returning to the living room.

Had Hannah fed the dog, then taken him for a walk and never come back? Or had she left in a hurry to get away from Ronny, taking Frankenfurter with her? What if Ronny had shown up at her apartment and fought with her? Hurt her or kidnapped her? What if he’d killed her, and removed her body…

She shuddered at the thought, looking around for signs of a struggle. But the place was tidy. A few magazines on the coffee table, a blanket on the couch, a chew-toy for the dog next to a chair. Nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly no blood stains on the carpet. She lifted one edge of the old rug. No blood stains underneath it either. She breathed a sigh of relief.

On the dining table, Hannah’s computer sat open. She touched the mouse to wake up the system, and a login screen appeared within seconds. But without knowing Hannah’s password, she couldn’t unlock the screen. She tried a few different combinations: Frankenfurter, Bergdorf, IloveMom, even her own name, but none of them worked. Clearly, her friend was too sophisticated to use a password that could easily be guessed by anybody with a passing knowledge of her.

If she wanted to find out what Hannah had been doing before she disappeared, she needed to get into her computer. She wanted to check her recent search history and her inbox to see if she’d received any worrisome emails. Either might provide a clue as to where she was. But first of all, she needed to go to the police to report her missing. And she would do that right after she’d taken a quick shower and gotten changed out of her thick clothes, which made her feel like she was in a sauna. Her skin was sticky, and she felt tired from the trip. A shower would revive her again and lend her the strength she needed to look for her friend.

2

Blake shoved his cell phone back into the pocket of his cargo pants as his long legs ate up the distance between his office and the conference room at the other end of the long corridor in Scanguards’ Mission headquarters. Despite the stress and the long hours that came with his job, he loved it. He loved being in charge of security for the hybrid children of some of the most powerful vampires on the West Coast—even if it meant putting his own needs before theirs. When he’d been human, and much younger, he’d been a selfish and entitled trust fund baby. Now he was making up for it.

He nodded to Oliver, his de-facto brother, who was coming out of the elevator.

“You’re only now just rolling in?” Blake asked, grinning. “Trying for another baby?”

Oliver shook his unruly mane. His hair wasn’t long, but thick and stood out in every direction. “One is enough, thank you very much. And if you could play uncle and take care of Sebastian for a few hours this week, so Ursula can get the house in order for her parents’ visit, I’d appreciate it.”

“Hey, your son practically lives at my place!” Or rather in Blake’s refrigerator, which he had trouble keeping stocked, given the amount of food the twelve-year-old could devour.

Oliver chuckled. “Shouldn’t have bought that big house. Now you’ll never get rid of the youngsters. Let’s face it, they’d all much rather hang out with you than with their parents.”

Blake smiled. “Only because I let them run wild.” He motioned to the conference room. “Zane and the rest of them are way too strict with their offspring. Too much discipline isn’t good. They need an outlet.”

Oliver smirked. “As I said, you’ll never get rid of them now.” He turned and sauntered in the other direction.

For a moment, Blake just stood there. He and Oliver hadn’t started off on the right foot, when they’d first met over twenty years earlier. But they’d been thrown together because they were kin: Quinn Ralston, Blake’s 4th great-grandfather, was Oliver’s sire, and they’d lived together under Quinn and Rose’s roof for several years. Rose, who wasn’t related to Oliver by blood, had borne Blake’s 3rd great-grandmother shortly before her turning, and thus ensured the survival of the Ralston clan.

Smiling to himself, he opened the door to the conference room and let himself in. Several members of the Scanguards management team were assembled around a large conference table. A speakerphone stood dead-center on the table.

“Sorry, running late,” he apologized to nobody in particular and sat down next to Amaury.

The linebacker-sized vampire with the shoulder-length dark hair and the piercing blue eyes acknowledged him with a sideways glance, pointing to the phone as he murmured, “Donnelly is giving us the weekly crime report. You haven’t missed anything.”

“What worries me, Samson,” Detective Donnelly was saying through the speakerphone, “is that there are way more robberies and home invasions than usual. Something is up.”

Samson, Scanguards’ founder, a tall vampire with sleek black hair and a chiseled face and physique, rested his elbows on the table and leaned a little closer to the speakerphone. “What do you want me to do, Mike? You know as well as I that Scanguards only gets involved in city business when it concerns infractions committed by vampires. That’s our deal. And from what you’re telling us, most of these crimes are committed during daylight.”

The implication was clear: the crimes couldn’t have been committed by vampires, who needed the cover of darkness to operate safely.

Zane grunted in agreement. Blake tossed him a quick glance. As usual, the bald vampire looked like he was ready to rip somebody’s head off. Zane glanced down to his watch and then he pushed his chair back, nodding to Samson. “Flight’s in a few hours. Gotta get ready.”

Samson nodded back, and then exchanged a look with his second-in-command, Gabriel.

Gabriel shrugged indifferently, but the scar that marred one side of his face ticked, a sure sign that he was affected by the matter. The scar stretched from his ear to his chin, a gruesome reminder of the emotional and physical pain he’d endured as a human.

“Come on, guys, the city compensates you handsomely for your consulting services,” Donnelly added now. “Just this once. Just have one of your guys look into it.”

Gabriel sighed and met Samson’s eyes directly. “How about John? Maybe he can check it out, determine whether there’s anything odd about these robberies? Won’t take him longer than a day or two, I reckon.”

Quinn, who’d been silent until now, ran a hand through his blond hair. He looked no older than mid-twenties, though he was close to two hundred years older than Blake. “I can pull John off patrol duty for a couple of nights, but I’ll need a replacement for him.”

“Take Grayson,” Samson agreed. “I’m sure he’ll be chomping at the bit.”

Gabriel chuckled. “You’re gonna let him go out there on his own?”

“You know my son as well as I do. He’s been badgering me for months to give him his own patrol. Maybe this is a good opportunity to see if he’s ready.”

“He’s twenty-one, it’s about time he pulled his weight!” Quinn interjected, laughing.

Amaury shook his head. “Wait until the twins find out. They’ll want their own patrol, too. You’re opening a big can of worms here.” Amaury’s twins Benjamin and Damian were twenty, only one year younger than Grayson, and absolute hellions.

“Don’t you trust your boys to do a good job?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s not Benjamin or Damian I’m worried about. Nina isn’t ready to let them go.”

Blake had to smile. Amaury’s blood-bonded mate was a force to be reckoned with. Though she was human, Amaury was putty in her hands. “You’ve gotta put your foot down, Amaury.”

Quinn’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Too late for that. That comes from letting your mate wear the pants.”

Amaury grunted and shot Quinn a look. “Like you have any more control over your woman than I have over mine!”

Samson raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, guys, let’s get back to business.”

Blake glanced at his boss. Yeah, Samson was in exactly the same boat as the rest of the blood-bonded vampires: they were all dependent on their women, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So we got a deal?” Donnelly asked through the speakerphone.

“Yeah, we got a deal. I’ll have John call and coordinate with you. You get forty-eight hours. Then I’m pulling him off.”

“Okay. Thanks.” There was a soft rustling of papers, then Donnelly continued, “Can we go over the vampire case files now? I’ve got a few updates.”

“Go ahead,” Samson agreed.

There was a faint knock at the door, followed by a creak as it opened a sliver. Finn, a young employee of Vüber, one of Scanguards’ subsidiaries, popped his head in. Several heads turned to him.

“Sorry,” Finn apologized quickly, “but it’s important. Blake, a word.”

Blake rose. “Excuse me for a sec.” He walked outside, and eased the door shut behind him. “What’s going on?”

Finn shifted from one foot to the other, appearing nervous. “Well, I’m not sure. But you told me if there’s ever a problem with Hannah Bergdorf, I should let you know personally.”

Blake’s heartbeat instantly went into overdrive. Hannah, one of the many human drivers who worked for Vüber, a company that transported vampires around the city during daytime, stood under his personal protection. “Hannah? What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, but she hasn’t accepted any fares lately. And she didn’t call in sick or anything.” Finn shrugged.

“How long has she not worked?”

“Maybe two or three days.”

Blake felt heat rise to his head. “And you didn’t tell me earlier?”

“I didn’t even notice at first. I mean, the Vüber drivers don’t have fixed hours. They accept the fares as they come in. I figured she was taking a few days off, since she worked over Christmas.”

“Did you call her?”

“She’s not picking up her phone. Goes straight to voicemail.”

“Has anybody checked her house?”

Finn shook his head. “Can’t spare anybody right now. It’s really busy. And maybe she just forgot to set her app to the Away mode. I don’t wanna intrude if she’s just taking time off.”

Blake nodded, worried and anxious. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to shoot the messenger. “I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, send the details of her last fare to my phone.”

“Will do.” Finn turned on his heel and rushed away, clearly relieved at being allowed to leave.

Blake didn’t waste time either. He marched to the elevator and pressed the call button. As he waited, he tried to calm himself. Maybe Hannah had just forgotten to tell Finn’s team that she wasn’t working for a few days. But as much as he wanted to believe in that scenario, he knew better.

Hannah was too generous and charitable for her own good. She’d probably helped somebody and gotten in trouble as a result. Just like she’d helped him on that wet March day four years ago. The day he would have died, had it not been for Hannah’s fearless action.

3

Lilo towel-dried her blond hair, before reaching for her hairbrush to comb the damp strands into submission. Normally she’d let it air-dry, but since she was planning to go to the nearest police station and didn’t want to freeze, she bent down to the cabinet below the sink and pulled Hannah’s hairdryer from it. She was about to plug it in and switch it on, when she heard a sound coming from the other room.

She froze in mid-movement, her heart skipping a beat.

Had Hannah come home? She listened, instinctively, hoping against hope it was her friend. If it was Hannah, she would see the suitcase and know she had a visitor. Judging by the stickers on Lilo’s luggage—stickers Hannah had sent her from her numerous trips—she would also know immediately who it was.

Lilo waited another two seconds, but whoever was in the other room didn’t call out her name. It couldn’t be Hannah.

It was an intruder, probably a burglar. It had to be. She’d written enough mystery novels to know how this would go down: he’d steal everything valuable in sight, including her handbag and computer, which would leave her stranded. And she already had enough problems to deal with. Getting her valuables stolen wasn’t on the agenda tonight.

She stretched her hand toward the glass shelf above the sink, reaching for her phone, but stopped.

Crap, she cursed silently.

Her cell phone was still in her handbag in the living room, out of reach—which meant she couldn’t call the police for help. She had no choice. She’d have to take the initiative and surprise the guy. Most burglars, she knew from her research, turned tail and ran the moment they realized they weren’t alone. She’d just have to make enough noise to wake the neighbors should the guy not flee instantly.

Gripping the hairdryer more tightly, she looked down at herself. It would help if she weren’t dressed in Hannah’s short pink bathrobe. Oh well. She’d have to confront the intruder dressed as she was. She’d left her clothes in the living room because there was no space for them in the tiny bathroom without risking getting them wet.

Just pretend you’re Morgan West. The protagonist of her popular bounty hunter mystery series would definitely not be quaking in his boots the way she was right now. Then again, in her defense, she wasn’t wearing any boots. She was barefoot. Great, she was about to become the main character in a horror movie: a scantily dressed blonde, without shoes, running for her life. Could this situation get any more pathetic?

Stop it, she admonished herself silently. If only her imagination wasn’t so active; she could come up with all kinds of possible scenarios for this moment, all of them turning out badly. Sometimes it was a curse to be a mystery writer: she knew too much about the dangerous and evil elements of society. Elements like the burglar she could now hear clearly rummaging through the living room. In a few minutes, he’d be gone and with him, her handbag and computer.

It’s now or never.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the doorknob with her left hand while gripping the hairdryer tightly in her right. At least she could hit the guy with it if he approached her.

Lilo eased the door open just enough so she could peer out into the short hallway. But she couldn’t see anybody from that angle. Cautiously, she opened the door wider and took one step forward. Beneath her bare foot, the old wooden floorboard creaked. The sound seemed to echo loudly, though that could just be the result of her nervous, overactive imagination.

Another step and she was in the hallway. The part of the living room she could see was empty. Her suitcase was still where she’d left it, though somebody had rifled through the contents, and tossed them onto the armchair.

That proved it. It was definitely not Hannah who’d entered the apartment. Slowly and silently, she stalked into the living room, staying as close to the wall as she could, before peeking around the corner so she could see the entire room. It was empty. The small reading light she’d turned on earlier was still burning, but otherwise it was dark, probably giving the intruder the impression the apartment was empty.

Another sound reached her ears. The burglar had moved on to the kitchen. Was that how he’d gotten in? Through the kitchen window she’d opened to get rid of the foul smell?

As she approached the open doorway to the kitchen, she hesitated. If she surprised him in that small, confined space, he might panic and lunge at her. No, it wasn’t smart to corner him like that. What if he fought back?

Her eyes fell on the contents of her handbag on the armchair. If she could get to her cell phone, she could then sneak out the front door and call the police without the burglar hearing her, and everything would work out fine.

She placed the hairdryer on the couch, then bent over the armchair, rifling through her possessions. She shifted involuntarily. Her foot landed on something soft. A squeaking noise ripped through the silence.

Shit! She’d just stepped on one of Frankenfurter’s squeaky toys.

Frantically she tried to find her cell phone, but it wasn’t on the chair. The intruder must have taken it.

Damn it!

Heavy footsteps behind her made her whirl around. It was too late. A strange man charged into the living room, glaring at her as if she were the intruder. Light reflected from somewhere, making his eyes appear red, as if he were the devil incarnate.

Fuck! This guy wasn’t the type to just turn tail and run.

Lilo lunged toward the front door, desperate to escape. She could always buy a new computer and get her credit card company to issue her a new card. Better run now and deal with the consequences later.

Her hand was on the doorknob when she was jerked back by two strong hands gripping her shoulders. The guy flipped her around and tossed her in the other direction. She landed with her back on the old couch, legs in the air.

She pulled herself up quickly, trying to get away, but he was already charging at her again.

“Help! Somebody help!” she screamed from the top of her lungs, but in the next instant all the air was pushed from her lungs as the intruder pressed her back into the cushions as easily as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman.

She knew instantly that despite the self-defense classes she’d taken in college, she had no chance against an assailant this strong.

Her next scream for help was smothered beneath his broad palm and only came out as a muffled cry. Nobody would hear her.

Shit! What would Morgan West do now? How would he get out of this predicament? Kick his attacker in the nuts? Yeah, if she could lift her knee, which she couldn’t, because he’d disabled her with his weight. Besides, Morgan wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

“Where is it?” he grunted.

She ignored his question, not understanding what he was talking about, and instead tried to burn his face into her memory. No matter what happened now, she would do everything she could to be able to identify him in a lineup later.

His eyes were still glaring red, though this was probably an illusion caused by her fear, since there was no way the light in the room could reflect off his irises at this angle. Deep lines ran across his forehead, and his mouth was set in a grim line. His dark hair was shaggy, his face clean-shaven. He had prominent high cheekbones, but no other marks that would make him easy to identify.

The sound of a door opening made her shift her gaze from her attacker’s face and peer past his shoulders.

Another man, one just as tall as her attacker, charged toward them.

Oh fuck! Could her luck get any worse? The burglar hadn’t come alone. He’d brought an accomplice. Now there were two of them.

4

Blake lunged at the attacker. He’d heard a woman’s scream coming from inside Hannah’s flat just as he was picking the lock on her door.

There was no doubt that the man was a vampire. Just as it was evident that the woman being attacked wasn’t Hannah, but a blonde in a skimpy outfit, her long bare legs sticking out from under her aggressor.

Blake gripped the attacker by the shoulders and jerked him off his victim. The hostile vampire wheeled around, growling viciously, but Blake didn’t waste time and delivered a blow to the guy’s face. It whipped to the side for an instant, before snapping back. Now even more pissed off at having his fun interrupted, the asshole fought back.

Fending off the guy’s punches, Blake didn’t get a chance to verify that the woman was unhurt. He only heard her frightened screams and saw a flash of something pink move in his peripheral vision. He had to keep all his wits about him to keep his attacker at bay. The stranger had an advantage over Blake, because he was heavier, though his fighting technique was less refined. That’s where Blake had the upper hand. Even so, the guy still managed to land a few minor kicks and blows.

When the jerk’s fist came at him again, Blake ducked away and rammed him against the bookcase. Books and trinkets crashed to the floor, but the vampire didn’t give up. He grabbed the standing lamp to his left and flung it at Blake, who dove away, letting it slam harmlessly against the wall.

But the attacker didn’t slow down. He pushed away from the bookshelf and reached for a chair that was covered with a stack of magazines. Blake knew exactly what the guy planned to do with the chair—the wooden chair. But he didn’t intend to give him the chance.

“Nice try, buddy!” Blake grunted and jumped, knocking the chair out of the assailant’s hand before he could slam it against the wall and make himself a stake. As Blake wheeled back to deliver a punch to the attacker’s head, a balled-up fist hit him in the gut, making him fold over for a split second.

But he’d had worse than that. Scanguards had trained him well in hand-to-hand combat. Nobody would defeat him that easily, not even a vampire who weighed a good thirty pounds more than him.

He continued to trade blows with the assailant, avoiding as many direct hits as he could, though the attacker landed a few well-placed fists, just as Blake managed to deliver some decent blows to the guy’s increasingly agitated face. It wouldn’t be long before both he and the attacker would bare their fangs, despite the human in the room. Not knowing whether the woman knew what they were, he wanted to avoid that complication.

It spurred him on to go even harder at the hostile vampire, and he now used his legs to deliver powerful kicks, moves he’d learned from various martial arts disciplines. But the assailant didn’t go down. He kept coming, kept punching and kicking more ferociously by the minute, as if the fight was replenishing his energy. There was no stopping him with ordinary means. Only a stake or a silver bullet would bring this determined jerk down. But that wasn’t an option right now, particularly since he wanted him alive.

Blake gritted his teeth and drew on all of his reserves, pummeling the assailant with vampire force and speed. In return, the vampire turned even wilder. His eyes glared red now.

A high-pitched shriek from the woman in the room distracted Blake for a split second. Had she seen the attacker’s glowing eyes?

A fist connecting with his temple made him tumble back a step. Blake swung his arm back and aimed for the hostile vampire’s chin, but when he stepped forward again to use all his weight against his opponent, his foot got caught in something and he slipped. He caught himself in mid-fall and jumped back, but the other vampire was already heading toward the open doorway.

Frantic, Blake disentangled his foot from the lamp’s electrical cord, in which he’d gotten caught, and raced after him. The kitchen was small, and from it a second door led back into the hallway. The assailant was heading for it, but Blake ripped him back and spun him around.

But before Blake could deliver a punch, the attacker braced himself on the kitchen counter and kicked both his legs into Blake’s stomach, knocking him on his ass. It gave the hostile vampire enough time to hoist himself over the kitchen sink and lunge for the open window.

Blake was already up again and charging toward the window, when something hard hit him from the side. Momentarily disoriented, he spun his head toward the open doorway, where the scantily-dressed woman stood with a hairdryer in her hand.

“Shit!” he cursed and jumped onto the counter, lunging toward the window. But when he looked outside, the vampire was already fifty yards away from the building and mounting a motorcycle.

He sped away. Despite his vampire night vision, Blake couldn’t make out the numbers: they’d been obscured with dirt.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slamming his hand against the wall, before jumping down and turning back to the woman. “Why the fuck did you hit me with that thing? I had him!”

She lifted her chin. “You didn’t have him! He was beating the shit out of you. I was fucking helping you!”

“Yeah, you were a big help!” he growled. “You should have stayed out of it.”

“Oh yeah? And play the damsel in distress?” she griped.

He stepped toward her, furious now. “You were the damsel in distress.”

He took a deep breath, and for the first time really looked at her. Yeah, and what an utterly beautiful damsel she was. Fuck, he hadn’t even noticed. But he sure noticed now.

She was a natural blonde, her hair the color of wheat. It cascaded down her shoulders and touched the exposed skin of her neckline, where her pink bathrobe gaped open. Beneath the fabric, her breasts heaved from the force of her heavy breathing, possibly from the effort of hitting him, certainly from the outrage over his admonishment. Well, he didn’t mind the view. Not at all, in fact. She was quite something to look at. Not petite, not fragile, but tall and athletic.

His eyes wandered lower. The robe only reached to mid-thigh, and the legs that he now admired were trim and a little pale from lack of sun. But he could imagine that in the summer her skin would turn the color of bronze, accentuating her golden hair. Involuntarily he shifted, the sudden tightness in his pants forcing him to find a more comfortable position, before the beauty before him noticed that he was sporting the beginnings of a hard-on—and that it was her fault.

A huff made him lift his eyes to her face. Her cornflower-blue eyes scrutinized him with barely-veiled suspicion now. He could get lost in their depths, were they not narrowed at him now.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

He tilted his head to the side. “You mean apart from saving your pretty ass from that jerk?” He pointed to the window.

A little bit of color rose to her cheeks. “Yeah, apart from that.”

“I could ask you the same thing. ‘Cause for sure you’re not Hannah. And this is her flat. So what are you doing here?”

“That’s rich!” she snapped. “You’re breaking in here, and you’re asking me what I’m doing?”

Involuntarily, he pointed in the direction of the front door. “If I hadn’t knocked down that door, God knows what that guy would’ve done to you. You were screaming for help, so excuse me if I didn’t ring the fucking door bell!” Damn it, the woman could rile him up!

She sucked in a breath, but instead of lashing out with another insult, she appeared to calm herself down. “I’m sorry, but so much has happened, and I guess I’m just a little agitated. I mean that burglar… it’s not as if I didn’t have enough on my mind already.”

A burglar? That’s what she thought that vampire was? For now he’d let her believe that, but he was almost sure that the attacker had something to do with Hannah not showing up for work. Had the stranger been human, then, sure, he could have been an ordinary burglar, but a vampire, when Hannah worked with vampires? That was too much of a coincidence.

Slowly, he nodded. At least the woman wasn’t acting combative anymore. He could work with that. “You’re a friend of Hannah’s?”

“Lilo. Her best friend from back home. You live in the building?”

“No. I’m a friend. Hannah and I work for the same company. Different divisions.” He offered his hand. “I’m Blake.”

Lilo hesitated, then transferred the hairdryer to her other hand, before shaking his. “She never mentioned you.”

“She never mentioned you either.” Though he had no reason to believe that Lilo was lying. “Have you seen her?”

Lilo blinked before answering. “No. The apartment was empty when I arrived earlier tonight.”

Blake glanced around. “She hasn’t shown up for work. Didn’t call in sick, which isn’t like her. We’re concerned.”

“So am I. That’s why I flew out here. I think something happened to her.” Suddenly she sagged against the doorframe, all the air leaving her lungs.

Instinctively, Blake reached for her, but she eased to the side, stepping into the living room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…” he started. He shoved a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t my intention to frighten you. Guess that burglar did his fair share of it already. Are you okay?”

She forced a faint smile, but shook her head. “No. I’m not okay. My friend is missing. Her dog’s gone, too. And she’s not answering her cell. Her mother is worried sick.” She pulled the robe tighter around her torso. “And I need to file a missing person’s report.”

“I can take care of that,” he offered, though he had no intention of going to the police. This was vampire business. It was paramount that he deal with Hannah’s disappearance himself; he didn’t want to involve the police.

She shook her head, vehemently. “No. I have to go to the police. I owe her. It’s my fault she’s gone.”

Blake instinctively stepped closer. “What? Why is it your fault?”

Lilo’s beautiful face took on a pained expression. “She left me a message that she needed to talk. Something was bothering her, and I didn’t respond. I was too busy.”

“And that somehow makes it your fault?” He shook his head. “That’s ludicrous.”

Lilo suddenly shivered, and he realized that the cold air coming from the kitchen window was bothering her. He turned around and closed it, then ushered her toward the couch in the living room.

She lifted her eyes, and her gaze collided with his. “I should have called her back when she needed me. It’s my fault.”

5

“Please sit down. You’re more shook up than I thought.”

Her rescuer’s voice was deep and melodic and made her shiver once more. Lilo realized that she hadn’t even thanked him yet. Instead she’d railed at him and treated him with suspicion. Yet here he was, taking the hairdryer from her hand, putting it aside, and guiding her gently to the couch as if she were fragile and would break at any moment. And maybe she would. She wasn’t one of the brave characters from her books, who dealt with crime daily and wasn’t afraid of anything.

“I’m—”

“What’s going on here?” The male voice came from the front door.

Lilo whipped her head in his direction. In the open doorframe stood a middle-aged man, wearing pajamas and a long dark-green bathrobe. He glanced into the apartment.

Blake was already walking toward him. “Nothing to worry about. It’s all taken care of.” He reached the door and blocked her view, continuing his conversation with the concerned neighbor, lowering his voice so much that she couldn’t hear what he was saying.

A moment later, Blake turned around and closed the door behind him. They were alone again.

As he walked toward her with his confident gait, she took the opportunity and eyed him up. He was a little over six feet tall and athletic. His hair was dark, his eyes azure-blue. He had a strong, square chin and a long, straight nose. Underneath his Polo shirt she could see his chest muscles flex.

He was handsome; very much so. Maybe in his early thirties. Rugged, in a romantic kind of way. And he looked exactly like she’d always imagined Morgan West, the bounty hunter from her mystery series, would look in real life.

She shook her head to try to return to reality. She wasn’t living in one of her books for a change. This was real life. Real danger. And this man had saved her from a true threat.

“I haven’t even thanked you,” she started.

He stopped in front of her and sat down on the edge of the old wooden coffee table. He grinned. “No need. I’m just glad you’ve stopped hitting me.”

She cringed. “I only hit you once. And it was an accident. I was after the other guy. I’m sorry.”

“Forget about it.” He leaned in a little. “Tell me what happened.”

Lilo tugged at the bathrobe she’d borrowed from Hannah. “I was taking a quick shower after my flight, getting ready to go to the police, when I heard something. I thought it must be a burglar. So I figured I’d chase him away before he stole something.”

“Chase him away? Why didn’t you call 9-1-1?”

“I tried.” She pointed to the armchair where the contents of her handbag were still strewn about. She still couldn’t see her cell phone among her things. “But I couldn’t find my cell phone. I think he took it before he went into the kitchen. And then he heard me, and it was too late.” She shivered. “I don’t know what he would have done.”

Blake pressed his lips together and nodded, frowning. “Good thing I got here in time. Well, you’d better get dressed and pack up your things. You can’t stay here now.” He rose.

She shot up from the couch. “I can’t just leave. I need to stay here. What if Hannah comes back? With my phone gone she has no way of contacting me.”

“It’s not safe here.” The sharp edge in his voice brooked no refusal.

And riled her up instantly. “Because of a burglar? It happens all the time in large cities. I’m not some country bumpkin who—”

“It’s got nothing to do with that,” he interrupted and glared at her. “This was no random burglary. That guy is gonna come back. And I don’t want you to be here when he does.”

Her heart started to thunder and in the back of her mind something tried to push to the surface. “Why do you think that?”

“I work in security. I have a gut feeling for this kind of stuff. Trust me on that. This guy was looking for something specific.” He motioned to the contents of her handbag. “Why take your phone, but not your wallet? What burglar leaves behind cash and credit cards?”

Lilo followed his gesture. He was right; her wallet lay on the armchair, open. She could see that the money was still in it. And then she remembered what the burglar had said to her while he had her on the couch.

“He asked me where it is,” she said out loud.

“Where what is?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what he was talking about. He pressed me down on the couch and said: Where is it? That’s all. Then you came in.”

“Do you have anything valuable on you?”

“No. Just my computer, my cell phone, which I can’t find, and my wallet. I have no jewelry on me. Nothing of value to anybody but myself. I travel light.”

Blake nodded and glanced around, his eyes falling on the computer on the table. “Is that yours?”

“No. That’s Hannah’s. I tried to get in to check her emails, but it’s password-protected.”

“That’s fine. We’ll take it with us. I’ll check whether she left her cell phone or anything else that could give us a clue to where she is. In the meantime, get dressed and pack your things. You’re coming with me.” His voice was commanding, as if he was used to his orders being followed without question.

“But I have to go to the police and report her missing.”

For a moment, he just looked at her, studying her face. Then he sighed. “Fine. We’ll stop by the police on the way.”

She hesitated, instinctively pulling her bathrobe more tightly around her. “I don’t know you…”

“I understand that. But if I really wanted to hurt you, I could have done so a million times.”

She looked into his blue eyes and saw the sincerity there. Slowly, she nodded. He was right. “Okay, give me a few minutes to get my stuff together.”

And to calm down and recover from the shock of being attacked—and then rescued by a man who could make the heart of any woman flutter. Even hers.

6

While Lilo got dressed in the bedroom, Blake used the time wisely and searched the place for anything that could help pinpoint Hannah’s whereabouts. He also sent a text message.

Now he hoisted Lilo’s suitcase into the trunk of his Aston Martin, a gift from his 4th great-grandparents, Rose and Quinn, after he’d totaled his BMW four years earlier—and a way for them to tease him. After all, in his twenties he’d seen himself as his British namesake, Bond, and tried to pick up girls with 007’s signature greeting. How pathetic he’d been back then. Now he was so much more—more than he’d ever dreamed he could be. A member of a group of vampires who had made it their mission to protect the innocent.

Blake placed Hannah’s computer and tablet in a bag next to Lilo’s luggage. He hadn’t found Hannah’s cell phone, which could turn out to be good news. If she had it on her, and it was switched on, it would be easy to track: the Vüber app had a built-in GPS. He wouldn’t even have to contact his IT crew to triangulate the phone.

Blake walked around the car and got in on the driver’s side. Lilo was already sitting in the passenger seat. He unlocked his cell phone and opened the Vüber app. As a Scanguards manager, he had the administrative version of the app on his phone, which allowed him to locate various Vüber drivers and identify them by name, something a regular user couldn’t do, in order to protect the drivers’ anonymity.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced at Lilo, before tapping the app and entering Hannah’s name.

“Hannah’s phone has an app on it that shows where she is, so that people who are interested in hiring her know how close she is.”