“No other weapons?” The giant vamp asked, eyeing him up and down with that remarkable night vision. “No backup piece?” he added.
Colin jolted a bit at the colloquialism coming out of the Sumo wrestler’s mouth, but he shook his head. “Didn’t think I’d need one,” he said, waiting calmly beneath the vamp’s scrutiny.
“Very well. Follow me.”
As they started up the curved driveway, the vampire spoke into a throat mike that Colin hadn’t noticed before. He didn’t catch the words, but he didn’t have to. The giant had just told someone inside that they were on their way.
Loren was waiting for them just inside the door. He stepped forward immediately and shook Colin’s hand. “Colin, good of you to come.”
Colin gave the security chief a bemused smile. “I could hardly refuse, could I? Besides, I’m sure we all want the same thing. To stop whoever’s doing this.”
“Absolutely.”
“I notice you’ve got a lot more security out there tonight. Have there been more attacks?”
“No, no. Nothing like that,” Loren assured him, glancing at the vampire hulking behind Colin. “Just a precaution.”
“Leighton told me about Marco, Loren. And Preston. I was kind of surprised no one thought to let me know. Especially about Marco.”
Loren had the grace to look uncomfortable. He’d known that Colin and Marco were friends. “My apologies, Colin. We weren’t certain what was happening and—”
A cool voice interrupted. “Loren was told not to share that information, Mister Murphy.”
Loren stiffened to attention like a sailor fresh out of RTC, twitching visibly as he spun around to face the speaker. “Duncan,” he said. “This is—”
“Colin Murphy,” Colin interrupted, holding out a hand, even as he studied the newcomer—Duncan—curiously. He was broad-shouldered, but shorter than Colin, an even six feet, maybe six-one, and he wore the same sort of tailored suit the Sumo wrestler was wearing. Obviously a uniform of sorts.
The vampire noticed Colin’s open appraisal and smiled crookedly, his brown eyes lighting up with a very human warmth. But he was definitely a vampire for all that. And judging by Loren’s reaction, not just any vampire either. This guy Duncan was somebody.
He gave Colin’s hand a friendly shake, using enough pressure to make it felt, but not enough to intimidate. Careful, calculated, Colin thought.
“My name is Duncan,” the blond vamp said unnecessarily.
No last name, no title, Colin noted and shrugged inwardly.
Duncan turned slightly and gestured across the great room to where he saw Cynthia Leighton disappearing between a huge set of open double doors.
“Lord Raphael is waiting for us,” Duncan explained.
Well, okay. Apparently, Colin was about to meet the head honcho. What was it Leighton had said this afternoon? That this guy ruled most of the Western United States? Including part of the Rockies. Mustn’t forget the Rockies. He frowned when he remembered what else she’d said. That the big honcho wasn’t going to be happy with her . . . or with Colin either.
Chapter Sixteen
Raphael sat in the same chair as the night before, well aware of the dramatic setting created by the panoramic wall of glass behind him. The moon was full tonight and for once in this perpetually rainy place, the clouds were only scattered, so the moon’s silver glow lit the sky, making it seem more blue than black.
With his own people securing the gate and grounds, there was no need for additional security inside the room, so there was nothing between him and the wall of glass but empty space.
He settled back into the big chair, watching as Cyn entered and remained standing against the far wall, regarding him narrowly. He met her gaze and raised a single eyebrow in question. She rolled her eyes in response, but pushed away from the wall and strode across the room, standing in her usual place to his right, but far enough away that he couldn’t touch her easily.
She held her position, stiff and unyielding, for a few minutes, then sighed audibly and sidled nearer, speaking in a voice meant only for his ears. “He didn’t know about Marco and Preston until I told him. He said he and Marco were friends.”“Do you believe him?”
She thought about it a moment, then said, “Yes.”
“Thank you, my Cyn,” he murmured and stroked one finger down the back of her thigh, closer now that she’d shifted in order to talk with him.
The muscle beneath his finger tightened and she huffed out a disgusted breath. But she didn’t move away.
He bit back a smile, looking up when he heard footsteps approaching the room. His smile had disappeared altogether by the time Duncan appeared between the doors with Colin Murphy in tow.
* * * *
Colin followed Duncan into a really large and nearly empty room. The far wall was nothing but glass with a million dollar view down across the valley and probably all the way to the bay. It was spectacular, but his gaze quickly fell instead to the black-haired vampire sitting in a big chair in front of the window. Every nerve in his body jolted straight into the classic fight or flight reaction. Years of training, of experience on the deadliest battlegrounds in the world, were screaming at him to defend himself, to draw the fucking gun he didn’t have, put a wall at his back and get the hell gone. Forget the big Sumo wrestler behind him, forget Cynthia Leighton with her guns and Duncan with his watchful, human eyes. Lord Raphael, and it had to be him, gave off a vibe so strong it crushed against Colin’s chest like three hundred pounds of iron on a bench press. Some instinct deep inside his hindbrain, maybe something left over from his primitive ancestors who’d looked to the gods for protection from the natural world, wanted him to drop to his knees and pledge undying fealty.
But Colin Murphy didn’t kneel to anyone, and he’d pledged his loyalty to his country and his team long ago. It was everything he could do to hold that cold, black stare, but he did it, forcing himself to stay cool. No problem here. Just a meeting with the local vamps. Like hell.
The pressure dropped away and Colin breathed what he hoped was a subtle sigh of relief. The damn vampire was regarding him with veiled amusement and Colin knew it could have been much, much worse. He felt a surge of anger at the knowledge he’d been toyed with, but gritted his teeth and said nothing. That was another lesson he’d learned in the military. There were times when you just had to grin and bear it.
Like when you were facing down a vampire who could squash you like a bug. Come to think of it, now that the games were over, that was pretty much the look Raphael was giving him, like he was something unpleasant that had ended up smashed against his windshield.
With the pressure more or less off, Colin took the opportunity to check out the surroundings, which was what he should have been doing instead of staring at the view. Lord Raphael was sitting in a huge chair placed right in front of that spectacular wall of glass. Was it arrogance that put him there where a good sniper’s bullet could take him out? Hell, maybe bullets couldn’t touch this guy. But bulletproof or not, Colin was going with arrogance, because this guy had it in spades. Colin had faced down some tough assholes in his time—drug dealers, tribal leaders, hell, even a terrorist or two. But none of them held a candle to the vampire sitting in front of him.
He gave the rest of the room a quick scan. There were clusters of furniture scattered throughout, but only the area directly around Raphael was occupied. Wei Chen sat on a short, leather couch to Colin’s left, along with Loren. Jeremy was present, too, sitting on one of three matching chairs to the right. The other two chairs were empty.
Colin nodded at Jeremy. “Jeremy, how’s Mariane?”
“She’s recovering,” the vampire said stiffly. “Thank you.”
Colin shifted his gaze back to Raphael. Duncan had taken up a position to the big guy’s left; Cynthia Leighton stood on his right, close enough that her leg brushed up against the chair arm where . . . Ah shit. No wonder Leighton had said Raphael wouldn’t be happy with him. They were an item. Hell, no, he thought, remembering the ring on her finger. Not just an item. They were fucking married or whatever it was vampires did. And Colin had spent the whole day alone with her.
He raised his eyes to meet Raphael’s again. The vampire lord curled his lips into a smug smile, clearly having noticed Colin’s ah shit moment. Raphael blinked lazily and said, “My Cyn tells me you knew Marco.”
Colin didn’t miss the possessive pronoun. A potted plant wouldn’t have missed the fucking possessive pronoun.
“We were friends,” he said, nodding.
“Indeed. An interesting man, Marco. His family was Spanish aristocracy, you know. A direct lineage to Queen Isabella.”
“Very interesting,” Colin agreed, “since Marco was Italian and his family were merchants. He had a genealogical chart hanging in his living room, said it reminded him of where he came from.”
The smile was more genuine this time. “You were right, my Cyn,” Raphael said to Leighton, although he never stopped looking at Colin. “Have a seat, Mister Murphy.” He indicated the empty chair next to Jeremy. “Loren, ask Sophia to join us.”
Colin headed for the chair closest to the door, leaving the one between him and Jeremy vacant. It was a classic guy move, but that wasn’t why he’d done it. It was just good tactics to get as far away from Raphael and as close to the door as possible.
His ass had just hit the chair when the doors opened and Loren returned, followed by a dark-haired woman. She was short and curvy, her dark head turned toward Juro, murmuring her thanks as he held the door open until she was through, then pulled it closed behind her. She took a graceful step into the room, her gaze going left, skimming over Wei Chen and Loren, before turning large brown eyes toward Colin where they widened into a disbelieving stare.
Colin stood, his heart slamming against his chest wall.
“Sophie?” he whispered.
Chapter Seventeen
Sophia stared at Colin Murphy, the last man she’d ever expected to see again. He was her one and only regret, the only human she’d truly loved through her centuries as a vampire. And what the hell was he doing here? He was from the South somewhere. She couldn’t remember where exactly, but she did remember that slow, lazy drawl in his deep voice, the way he whispered delicious things to her as his hands did . . . She snapped herself back to the present, shocked at her reaction after all this time. She was aware of everyone in the room watching them, could feel Raphael’s stare all but drilling a hole in her head. This was the last thing she needed.