Page 54 of Vampire so Virtuous
He’d used his mind-stun, not expecting it to work. But it had. In that brief moment, Minh had gone slack in his arms, his neck exposed. It had seemed so natural to do what he did.
Natural, but reckless. A foolish risk to take.
Yet, the woman had been there, and he’d felt… what? Protective? No. Possessive.
Perhaps both.
He stepped out of the shower, dried, and dressed in his usual clothes. The walk-in wardrobe was stocked with folded black T-shirts, black jeans, and identical leather coats. There were other clothes, but he didn’t spare them a glance.
Antoine reached for her mark and immediately felt her presence. Stronger than he expected, the connection more intense than any he’d made before. Had he gone too far? He only meant to track her, not enslave her or unravel her mind.
Maybe he had lost his touch.
He frowned as the mark tugged south. She was no longer in Allston. Closer to Roxbury, perhaps? Gabriel’s territory. Hopefully, he could be in and out with Gabriel none the wiser.
Marcel was waiting downstairs. “I presume you will be taking a car, sir?”
He could hardly go by rooftop in daylight, shadows or no shadows. “I suppose so.” Marcel held out a set of keys embossed with the distinctive raging bull. “No, I’ll take the Audi.”
“It’s very…understated, sir,” Marcel demurred. Despite his polite tone, his subtle disapproval still came through. “Wouldn’t you rather reflect your stature?”
“It’s an R8, Marcel. It’s only ‘understated’ when compared to pure flamboyance.”
“Very good, sir.” The Lamborghini keys disappeared with impressive sleight of hand, and another set appeared, this one with four interlaced rings.
Antoine smiled wryly. The old butler had anticipated him, as usual. “Thank you, Marcel. Don’t feel the need to wait up.” He accepted the keys and made his way to the door.
“Oh, don’t worry about me, sir. I’m used to the hours you keep.”
That was obviously true, but Marcel’s recent frailty was more pronounced. Antoine worried for him.
The Audi’s tinted windows and a pair of sunglasses kept the October sky from irritating his eyes too much; the discomfort was a small price to pay for the chance to see the world during the day.
He drove east out of Fisher Hill, the highway slipping by, the mark leading him toward Roxbury. He drove on, drawing closer. She was near. She was… Oh.
Antoine pulled into the parking lot off Tremont Street and stared at the large building across the way: Boston Police Headquarters. Given how he’d left her, surrounded by corpses, it made sense. But then, he’d told her not to hang around. He frowned. Why had she? Most chattel would’ve run.
She continued to intrigue, and he couldn’t forget the taste of her—like the finest of wines, deep, complex, invigorating, and oh-so-potent.
Then he shook his head at his own sentimentality. He knew better than this. She was just chattel, after all.
“When I’m finished with her, I’ll be sure to leave her somewhere even you won’t miss her.”
Antoine clenched his jaw. Minh had already targeted her once. Would he do it again? Minh being Minh: petty and cruel.
It would be much easier to keep the woman safe from Minh when his territory was free of the infestation of Minh’s thralls, and bolstered by his own.
But first, he had to extricate her from the hands of the police—which wouldn’t be easy when he didn’t even know her name. He could hardly walk up to the front desk and expect to get anywhere fast. Antoine picked up his phone. The line rang twice before it was answered.
“Anthony! What a pleasant surprise! I thought you were out of the country.”
“Afternoon, Bill,” Antoine replied, suppressing his French accent, though it was still hinted at in the drawl he affected instead. “Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”
“Not at all. I assume this isn’t a social call, but it’s still good to hear from you. What can I do for you?”
“I’m actually calling to help you—or, more accurately, the city. I’m across the street from police headquarters, and I’m fairly certain they’re holding a woman accused of a triple homicide. Now, it so happens that I witnessed the event and know she’s innocent. But rather than waltz in and present myself to the desk sergeantdu jour, I wondered if…?”
“My God, Anthony, you’re full of surprises! When I saw your number, I assumed you were after planning permission for extending that fantastic property you have in Fisher Hill. I never figured you for the white-knight type.” Antoine allowed a diplomatic chuckle. “I’ll call Gerry now. You’re outside the HQ, you say?”
