"Thanks for the help, Ken." Tony heaved a sigh of relief.

"Little girl," Chris Townsend came over to me and took my hand, "that's some talent you have there. I always heard that misting took several minutes. I've never seen anything like what you did."

"It's the result of desperation, I assure you," I said. He smiled and winked at me before he and his partner left us in front of Tony's door. Tony got us inside with his key card and shut the door.

"Lissa, I don't suppose you'd come to bed with me?"

"Tony, I can't." I felt like crying over that fact. Gavin's ring was on my finger and as much as I might like to let Tony take my troubles and worries away for a little while, there wasn't any way I'd be able to face Gavin later. I'm a terrible liar.

"Lissy, don't worry about it," Tony tipped my face up and placed a careful kiss. "If I were engaged to you, I'd appreciate that loyalty, too." He let me go and I walked on wobbly, stubborn legs away from him and into my adjoining bedroom.

* * *

When I awoke on Tuesday evening, I learned two things. One, Greg had pancreatic cancer and two; Weldon had a werewolf police officer doing my legwork in Great Britain. He also told me there were several runaways listed in the past weeks; something the police knew but hadn't released to the press to keep them from jumping to further conclusions. There were numerous calls coming in with tips on the blond man with the scar but none could be verified. I sent a quick email to Weldon, thanking him for the help and the information. Franklin was next on the list and I called him personally.

"Lissa, it's advanced so the option is chemo," he said. "Merrill has already offered—you know what I'm talking about—and Greg doesn't want that. Neither do I, in case it comes down to that. If I'm unconscious someday, you make sure he remembers."

"I'll make sure he remembers," I promised. "Is Greg okay for the time being?"

"He has some bad moments," Franklin said. "Merrill told him to move in and he's hired a part-time nurse. Greg will probably go crazy with that, at least at first."

"Honey, I am so sorry," I said. "I wish I was there, only I don't know what good that would do." At least I had experience in ongoing diseases; Don, my husband, had heart disease and we'd had to work around that for quite a while before he died.

"Lissa, I would take anything at this moment; Greg's in a little bit of a funk to be honest."

"He never did get his yelling done over the whole I'm getting a suntan thing," I joked.

"No, he didn't," Franklin said. I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

"I'll see if there's any way I can come, even for a few hours," I said. "They never tell me from one day to the next what I'll be doing so there are no guarantees."

"Sounds like the government," Franklin snorted. I agreed with that assessment completely.

As it turns out, we were flying back to D.C., and while Tony wanted me to come home with him, he agreed to let me spend three days in New York instead. I told Franklin I was coming and not to worry about picking me up. If I couldn't get a cab, I had other ways of getting myself around.

The flight on the government jet from D.C. to La Guardia got me there around three in the morning. I was worried about waking Franklin when I called but he blew it off and told me that he'd already checked me in with the guard downstairs. I managed to get a cab and the driver dropped me off at a very nice brownstone in Manhattan. I gave my name to the guard who let me in. He told me to go up to the top floor, which was the sixth in that particular building. I suppose that the lower five floors were all separated into nice condos, but the top floor was all Merrill's. The door was double and wide, facing the elevators as I got off. The entry just off the elevators was marble—there was gold on the door handles and I was completely impressed.

I knocked lightly as Franklin asked—he let me in almost immediately. "Greg is sleeping," he said as I carried my bags inside. "You can have Joey's old room," he went on, leading me down a hallway off the spacious kitchen.

"Joey?" I asked.

"Merrill's last and youngest natural turn," Franklin replied. "Still younger than you age-wise, but not by much," he smiled. "He's been vampire for sixteen years and is working elsewhere now, so the chances of your meeting him are very slim."

"I see," I said. And there I'd thought Brock and I were Merrill's youngest. Turns out, I was wrong. Merrill never talked about his other turns and so far, Brock was the only one I'd met. Joey's bedroom was nice and quite large, with its own bath and small sitting area. There was a shelf of books, too, but they were all computer manuals or science books and not a single one had For Dimwits after the title. Might as well have been written in one of the languages that Gavin was so fond of using; I wouldn't understand any of it.

I thanked Franklin for staying up to let me in and he went to bed. Then I wandered around the apartment for a while. It held four bedrooms, had a formal entry, a living room, a media room, a study that was locked, two bathrooms separate from those inside the bedrooms and a kitchen with every convenience imaginable. The master bedroom held a huge bed, a nice library and sitting area plus a large bath with marble everywhere. I think six people could have taken a shower at the same time. No pictures on the nightstand, though. One of the nightstands—the one on the right side of the bed—held a small refrigerator that contained bagged blood. Next to the nightstand and fridge was a window that was floor to ceiling plate-glass. Through that was a view of New York City worth a fortune. The blood in the fridge must have been Merrill's private stash—Franklin said he had some there for me and not to worry about it.

I watched a little more television before checking my email. I had messages from Charles and someone I didn't recognize. Charles's was just a friendly hello; the other was from the werewolf Weldon had found for me. He introduced himself as Paul, first name only, said he was involved in law enforcement in the U.K. and was more than happy to go on this quest for Weldon and me. He said he'd visited the first site where the three children had been found, but too much rain had fallen and water and time had confused any scent that might be picked up. He planned to go to the newer site in the next day or so and check it over, but didn't hold out much hope of finding anything there, either. He was anxious to get to any future sites, however, and promised that he would do his best for both of us.

I sent him a return message, thanking him for his help and then closed my laptop with a sigh. Wishing I had the freedom to go and check things out for myself, I watched television until nearly dawn and then went to my borrowed bed. Just like everything else that Merrill owned, it was the very best and extremely comfortable. Once dawn came, however, I was out like a light and it didn't matter anyway.




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