Jabril (Vampires in America #2)

Jabril (Vampires in America #2) Page 13

"Ms. Leighton.” There was the smallest of tremors in his voice, and he paused to swallow before continuing. “This is unexpected and it is late. Did you have something for me?"

Cyn knelt on the floor near the whimpering Mirabelle, fighting to breathe in air grown suddenly thick with equal parts of lust and fear. Jabril growled her name and she stared up at him, seeing the dark thoughts slithering below the surface of his eyes, the obvious swell of an erection beneath his elegant slacks. He smiled, plump lips drawing back to expose fully distended fangs. It was a terrifying sight. She struggled not to show her fear as he took a step closer, thinking of her gun and how fast he could move, and knowing one thing clearly. She did not want him to touch her again. She didn't know why it was so important, but her stomach revolted at the very idea.

Jabril repeated her name, then paused. When he spoke next, the fangs were gone, his eyes almost normal.

Cyn glanced at Mirabelle and stood to face him. “Thank you for seeing me, my lord,” she said, forcing herself to forget his arousal of only moments before, to ignore the whimpering girl at her feet. “I know time is short, but I wonder if I might have a few words with Mirabelle? And perhaps take another look at Elizabeth's things? I've spoken to some people who believe they've seen her and to Mrs. Hewitt—"

Jabril frowned. “The caseworker,” Asim provided.

"—and I may have an idea as to where she's hiding. It occurred to me, the sisters being close, that Elizabeth might have said something inadvertent to Mirabelle or perhaps left something lying about in a pocket or a drawer that could help me narrow down the leads."

Cyn concentrated on breathing as Jabril studied her. “My own people have turned up nothing,” he said. “I see no reason why you think you might—"

She smiled. “Let us say, my lord, that my sources are somewhat different than those of your other investigator. There are hundreds of children, teenagers, living on the streets of Houston; Elizabeth is most likely hiding among them. As experienced as your man no doubt is at this sort of thing, it is more likely these children would run from him than tell him anything useful."

"Are you suggesting they will speak to you?” Asim didn't even bother to deny they'd hired someone else.

"As I said, Asim,” she said without taking her attention from Jabril. “I dress the part. My lord,” she continued. “I am confident I can turn this case around within twenty-four hours if I can narrow my search. There is a chance that Mirabelle—"

"Very well.” That was all he said, but he continued to stare at her unblinking, as Mirabelle gasped in seeming pain and scrambled to her feet to stand, head bowed, hands clenched tightly at her sides.

"Sire,” the girl whispered, her gaze riveted to the floor between her feet.

"Mirabelle, Ms. Leighton seems not to have done a thorough job on her last visit. If you could escort her to Elizabeth's room once more, please.” Cyn ignored the intentional slight, more troubled by the change in Mirabelle's demeanor than Jabril's opinion of her skills. If the young woman had been cowed before, she was positively terrified now.

"Yes, my lord.” Mirabelle's voice was barely audible as she sidled over to the door without ever once turning her back or raising her eyes from the floor.

"Do come right back, my treasure. The sun is near.” Mirabelle flinched as if struck.

"Yes, my lord,” she whispered again.

Cyn turned back to Jabril, her face schooled to show nothing. “Thank you, my lord.” She probably should have said more, kissed his ass a little, but the only thing she wanted right then was to get the hell out of his sight. She followed Mirabelle through the door, turning her back on the vampire lord with an act of will, refusing to scuttle backwards like some sort of slave. Fuck him.

"What does she want?” Jabril snapped when the two women were gone.

"She asked to speak to Mirabelle, my lord. She claims it is relevant to Elizabeth's disappearance, and the guard reports she was most insistent."

"Is it possible she's found something?” Jabril gestured for Asim to follow as he strode toward the elevator and his private harem, hunger goading him to hurry.

"Unlikely. The investigator remains confident he'll find the girl before it's too late. I hardly think Ms. Leighton can do better. She is the spoiled daughter of a wealthy man who plays at being a detective. No doubt she has tired of the local nightlife and wishes to find some excuse for dropping the case so she can go home."

"Perhaps,” Jabril said absently as the elevator doors closed. He glanced at his watch, thinking only of the time left to partake of a slave or two before the dawn took him.

As before, Mirabelle halted right outside the door, breathing deeply. Unlike before, however, there was no sense of release in the action. She stood hunched over, her hands clenched, her breath gasping in and out. Cyn realized the girl was crying and reached out to touch her shoulder. Mirabelle flinched at the gentle contact, taking a step away.

"I'm sorry,” Mirabelle said in a dead voice. “This way, please."

Cynthia frowned, but walked along quietly for a few paces. “Tell me, Mirabelle,” she said conversationally. “If there was a fire and you had ten seconds to grab everything that meant anything to you, what would you take?"

Mirabelle gave her a startled glance before looking away quickly. Cyn thought at first she wouldn't answer, but then she said, “Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"He's already taken everything away. There's nothing here I want."

"That's what I thought. What about Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth is gone. And I hope she stays that way. No offense, Ms. Leighton, but I hope you never find her."

"Oh, I've already found her."

Mirabelle stopped dead in her tracks, then spun toward Cyn with a frantic look around. “You can't give her to him! Don't you know what he'll do?"

Cyn gave her a little smile. “Think, Mirabelle. I know you have a mind, even if he never lets you use it. Why would I be here, searching Elizabeth's things, when I've already found her? Why not simply tell Jabril where she is and collect my money?"

Mirabelle scrunched up her face in weary confusion. “I don't know,” she cried. “Please don't...” She gulped back a sob. “Please don't play games with me. That's all they ever do, all he ever does. And he hurts me. Oh God, he hurts me so much.” She covered her face with her hands, and then suddenly raised her head, staring directly at Cyn, her eyes hot with hatred. “You want to know what I'd do if there was a fire in this damn house? I'd slit my own throat and hope to God they all burned to ash along with me. There's nothing here worth saving, not even me."

"Mirabelle.” Cyn spoke sharply, alarmed by the girl's extreme emotional state. She needed her thinking clearly if this plan was going to work. “What happens when I leave here this morning? Will Jabril expect to see you again, or are you on your own until night falls?"

"What?” she asked, clearly thrown by the turn the conversation had taken. “Why?"

"Answer the question,” Cyn demanded.

"No! I mean, no, he won't want to see me. He had some big deal earlier. I don't know what it was, but he didn't get a chance to eat much. So he's hungry. That's why he freaked out so badly when you walked in. You're human and female, and his control was slipping. This close to sunrise, he'll go right to his quarters and have a little blood orgy before he goes to sleep."

"So you'll be expected to go back to your room alone? And no one else will be there?"

"No. There's no one, but why—"

"What if I said I could get you out of Texas tonight?"

Mirabelle's eyes popped wide with fear before she all but collapsed to the ground at Cyn's feet. “No, no. You mustn't. You mustn't talk about such things. He'll know and he'll hurt me. He can't touch you. He's afraid of you or something, but he'll hurt me so bad.” She was sobbing openly, sitting on the ground and hugging herself tightly.

Cyn crouched next to her, speaking directly into her ear. “Listen to me, Mirabelle. This is your chance. Do you understand? I can't give back what he took from you. I can't give you a husband and children and a white picket fence, but I can give you a chance for a real life. Something better than huddling in fear and waiting for Jabril to decide he doesn't need you alive anymore. There are better lords than Jabril, better places for you than Texas. This is your chance, Mirabelle. Take it."

"He'll know,” she whispered miserably. “He won't let me go."

"That's right,” Cyn agreed. “He'll know. But sunrise is in...” She checked her watch. “Less than an hour. I figure by now old Jabril is too busy seeing to his own comforts to worry about yours. You walk away with me and climb into my truck, and I'll do the rest."

"But where will I ... the sun ... I've never..."

"Trust me. Two minutes ago you told me you'd rather burn to ash than live this way. So, what've you got to lose? Besides, think of the mess if I let that happen. How in hell would I explain it to the rental car company?"

Mirabelle gave a strangled sort of laugh. “Do you really think I can?"

"I know you can.” Cyn stood and held out her hand. “Now, let's get the hell out of here before the sun comes up."

Mirabelle stared first at her face, then at the proffered hand. Trembling all over, she reached out and placed her fingers in Cyn's, finally grasping firmly. Cyn tugged her to her feet and gave her a quick hug. “Let's make tracks, babe. The night is old."

Chapter Fourteen

In the shadow of the big house, Cyn helped Mirabelle climb into the cargo area of the SUV and drew the retractable cover over her. The young vampire was already growing weak as the sun nibbled at the horizon, and Cyn only hoped she hadn't miscalculated. Mirabelle needed to be at least semiconscious when they reached the small, private airport. There was no way in hell Cyn could get her out of the SUV and into the airplane by herself. With a final, careful look around, she turned the ignition key.