Page 70 of Dawn Caravan
All’s fair in love and war.
And art theft. Ben was fine with that. Farkas was a well-known thief, and he’d left his house unprotected. He couldn’t be surprised that decades of privacy, layers of aliases, and dense Hungarian bureaucracy had not been enough to protect him.
Nope.
Something else was bugging him. It wasn’t only Tenzin’s odd reaction in Farkas’s chapel. It wasn’t the eclectic mix of deities in the worship space. It was the house itself.
Which vampire designed it? Was it a coincidence? Had Gergo Farkas happened to buy a house that had once belonged to a vampire? It was possible. He could have found the passages after he bought the property and decided the house had belonged to a criminal or a kinky aristocrat. It might even have been why he liked the mansion in the first place.
But that didn’t explain the mirrors.
The carefully placed mirrors were the thing that was bugging him. Paranoid human or cautious vampire?
I’ll explain later.
Tenzin said that a lot, but she didn’t always follow through. What had she been looking at in the chapel? What about the triptych had caught her eye when there were so many other, more valuable, pieces of art in the house?
Why had she been so quick to leave when this was their last job and she clearly didn’t want to cut ties with him?
Because once they were finished with this, the two of them were done. Going their separate ways.
Finished.
And she seemed totally fine with it.
Ben rose and walked to her room. Tenzin was hiding something, and he was going to find out what it was.
He knocked on the door.
Tenzin opened it, and her lips were pale.
Ben frowned. “Have you not been eating?”
She shrugged. “I forgot.”
“Tenzin—”
“I don’t get hungry like you do, Benjamin. It’s not the same for me.”
“When was the last time you drank anything fresh? There’s a pub two floors below this with donors.”
Her eyebrow went up. “Are you my mother?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. Forget I said anything.”
“Okay.” She started to close the door, and he stopped it with his foot. It was so easy to fall into familiar bickering patterns with her, he’d almost forgotten why he came.
“I didn’t come to nag you about eating regularly.”
“Good.” She tried to close the door again, but he didn’t move. “Why did you come?”
To seduce you, strip off your clothes, and make you drink from my neck.
Nope. Bad idea. That wasnotwhy he was there.
He cleared his throat. “It’s later.”
“And?”
