her.
"You mean with that vampire mind meld stuff." She tossed her head when he
nodded. "You can try, but I'm no longer weak or hungry. And if I ever found out you
tried it, I'd never trust you again."
Zane's anger grew. She could see it in the tenseness of his massive body and the
hard set of his shoulders. His lips thinned into a tight line, but she held firm. "Promise
me you won't do anything to put yourself in danger," he all but growled.
She realized then that he wasn't trying to control her so much as he was trying to
protect her. It was sweet, if misguided. He was probably in more danger every time
he'd gone to work as a cop, but she knew he'd disagree with her. Typical male. "Okay. I
promise not to do anything that I think will put me in danger."
He narrowed his eyes, but since he'd gotten what he thought he wanted, he relaxed.
She wasn't about to tell him that her idea of what constituted dangerous would
probably differ greatly from his.
"Now that that's decided, we should probably both get to work." Sophia was so far
behind that she had a good three or four hours to put in at her home office before she
could even begin to research. After all, a girl still had to earn the rent and food money.
"First things first." Zane's husky tones shot straight to her core, melting it. He was
staring at her with that look in his eyes again. Lust made his face appear even harsher,
his lips parted, giving her a glimpse of sharp, white fangs.
"We've both got work to do," she protested halfheartedly. Her taut nipples were
poking through the cotton of her bra and her top. Her sex contracted and relaxed,
reminding her that she was empty, telling her that she needed him to fill her.
He reached for her, lifting her and perching her on the top of her desk. "I promised
you last night that I was going to eat you until you screamed with pleasure." His grin
was positively wicked as he reached for the opening of her jeans. "And I'm a man of my
word."
Chapter Nine
Cassidy studied the worn building as he took the stairs two at a time. It was an
older home on the edge of the French Quarter. Like many homes, it had once been quite
grand, but it had seen better times. It had been converted into apartments about thirty
years ago and, although it had sustained some damage during Katrina, it had remained
relatively unscathed by Mother Nature. His quarry lived in one of the small studio
apartments on the top floor.
Using the bank receipt he'd plucked from her pocket and Stefan's computer
hacking skills, Cassidy had found his mystery woman from the night before. Blythe
Nixon was a local singer of some reputation who'd actually worked for the deceased
Jethro Prince for almost a year, and until very recently, she'd been the sole supporter of
her very sick mother. Her mother had passed away about a month ago, leaving Blythe
with no known relative. He could certainly relate to that.
Last night had been tense when he'd shown Lucian and Stefan the letter the woman
had dropped in the garden. Like a bloodhound, Lucian had wanted to see if he could
pick up the woman's scent and track her. Cassidy wasn't sure if Lucian could actually
do that, but he had discouraged it. The woman might be legitimate or she might be part
of an elaborate scheme to try to trap Lucian and his family. He'd wanted to check out
Blythe Nixon himself. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he'd been instantly
attracted to her.
Or so he kept telling himself.
It was better for everyone if no one in the family had any communication at all with
Blythe until he was sure she was clean and not involved in any way. He'd done some
research on his own last night, contacting some buddies on the force and picking their
brains about Adrian Prince. What he'd discovered hadn't been encouraging. If
anything, Adrian was even more ruthless and depraved than his older brother had
been. Added to the fact that he was calm and organized and not crazy like the elder
Prince, he made for a formidable enemy.
Cassidy had stayed home with the women last night as, according to the letter,
Prince had already sent some of his men out to kill them. The brothers had gone
hunting. The man Cassidy had been even a few years ago wouldn't have condoned
vigilante justice. But he'd seen too many criminals like Prince and his boys get off due
to technicalities or lack of witnesses. Anyone who went up against organized crime
bosses tended to disappear.
He knew there was no way to stop Lucian and Stefan in their quest for justice and
he didn't even try. He understood their need to protect their families at all cost. He only
wished he could have gone out hunting with them.
When they'd returned home just before dawn, they'd been grim but satisfied.
They'd also surprised him. Instead of killing the men sent to harm them, they'd messed
with their minds. Both of the men had calmly gotten back into their car and were
currently on their way to California. Stefan had smirked as he'd related how Lucian had
planted the suggestion that they had found religion and would spend the rest of their
lives atoning for the wrongs they had done. The fact that the men's minds were weak
after years of alcohol and substance abuse had made it possible. Plus, it would ensure
that there would be no missing persons or bodies for the police to concern themselves
with. Cassidy thought it a brilliant solution.
Adrian Prince might have fired the first shot in this war, but the Dalakis family had
sent it right back at him. Prince would find himself short two men this morning. The
Dalakis family was bracing for the next round of attacks.
Which was why he was here now. It was just after seven in the evening and Cassidy
had been guarding the house all day. But now that the sun had gone down, the family
was awake and alert and ready for anything.
Both houses had underground tunnels and escape routes they could use if
necessary. And Lucian had already called Chase in New York. After his abduction last
time, the family wasn't taking any chances. Chase was currently on the private family
jet headed to Europe to spend some time with Cristofor and Johanna.
Cassidy had insisted that they have the jet return immediately in case the rest of the
family needed to be evacuated. The men had bristled but had seen the sense in it when
he'd pointed out that the women might have to be sent away for safety's sake. He
hadn't been stupid enough to say it in front of either of the women though. He knew
they wouldn't leave without their husbands, was in fact counting on that if he felt the
family would be better off leaving town.
Reaching the top landing, he glanced at the first door and then turned left to the
door at the end of the short hallway. According to his information, this was the place.
Raising his fist, he knocked on the door and waited. He knew she was home--he'd seen
a light shining from her window before he'd come up, plus he'd already found out
where she'd worked and called them as well. She wasn't working tonight. In fact, she'd
called in sick at the last minute.
He waited a few seconds and then pounded his fist against the door again. "Who is
it?" The voice was lo
w, but he recognized it immediately.
"I need to talk to you, Ms. Nixon." Cassidy stood to one side of the door. He didn't
think she'd be armed or that she'd actually shoot, but it was better to be safe than
stupid. "My name is Sam Cassidy."
"I'm not well, Mr. Cassidy. You'll have to come back another time."
He could almost picture her on the other side of the door. Her tousled cap of white-
blonde hair and blue eyes had haunted his dreams when he'd managed to catch a few
hours' sleep. The dreams had been hot and erotic and he'd awakened with a raging
hard-on that had abated to a low-level arousal every time he thought of her.
He grunted and adjusted his jeans. Now was not the time to let his dick do his
thinking. He might be attracted to this woman, but he didn't know anything about her.
"You were fine last night when you delivered your message. And call me Cassidy."
Tension permeated the air. Cassidy could almost hear her thinking, contemplating
her options. Locks turned and the door opened, although two chains were still drawn
across the door. Frightened blue eyes stared out at him. "How did you find me and
what do you want?"
"It's not important how I found you. I just want to talk to you. To find out what you
know." He kept his voice low and unthreatening even as he kept out of the direct path
of the small opening in the door.
"I told you everything." Cassidy could hear the desperation in her voice and it
made his stomach clench. She was afraid, very afraid.
"Just let me in so we can talk. That's all I want to do," he promised. "Just talk."
She chewed on her bottom lip and he almost groaned. Her lips were soft and pouty
and he longed to soothe away the sting with his tongue. She obviously came to some
conclusion as she closed the door. Cassidy waited, unsure if she'd open the door or turn
all the locks again.
The scrape of two chains being pulled across metal was music to his ears. Then the
knob turned and the door slowly opened. He didn't push his way inside but waited for
her to shift back and let him in. He stepped in, careful to keep her in his sight. He hadn't
seen any signs of a weapon, but he wasn't convinced she didn't have one.
She seemed smaller than she had last night, almost fragile, even though he put her
height at about five-five. There was certainly no excess weight on her even though her
breasts were more than a handful. She raked her fingers though her hair as she
motioned to a chair. "Sit down."
It only took Cassidy three steps to reach the chair. The room wasn't very big and it
was open, revealing almost the entire apartment. A small refrigerator and countertop
range were nestled next to about three feet of counter space. A few meager cupboards
were situated above and below the counter with a tiny sink at the far end. A round café
table and two iron chairs sat in front of one of the windows, and the chair he was sitting
in, a futon and a trunk, which doubled as a coffee table, took up the rest of the room. An
armoire was pushed up against a wall, but he had no idea what was housed within--
maybe clothing, maybe a television. He could see the door to the bathroom, which was
just to the left of the front door. Minimal, sparse and neat were the best descriptions of
the place. There were no signs of wealth of any kind. Considering the kind of money
Blythe must have made the past few years, Sam was suspicious.
Blythe stood beside the trunk, her arms crossed over her chest. "Well?"
"You worked for Jethro Prince?"
His eyes narrowed as she shuddered. A mask seemed to fall over her face then,
blanking out all expression. She shrugged. "So?"
"Are you working at The Club now?"
Fear, distaste and shame all flashed in her eyes before they went blank again. If
Cassidy hadn't been watching closely, he'd never have seen it. "No." She shook her
head. "I don't work there any longer. Haven't since Jethro was murdered."
"Were you two close?" She had called him Jethro, not Mr. Prince. Cassidy didn't
like the way his stomach clenched or his shoulders tensed. He wanted to be wrong, but
suspected he wasn't.
She laughed bitterly. "Some would say so."
"But you wouldn't?" He kept his tone non-threatening, nonjudgmental, even
thought it was difficult. For some stupid reason he felt betrayed by her relationship
with Prince. Which was ridiculous since he'd only met the woman a day ago.
"No. Our relationship was strictly business."
She was lying. He could feel it in his gut, but he let it go for now. "So how did you
find out about Adrian Prince's plans to harm the Dalakis family?" Blythe was still tense,
but she relaxed slightly with the change of subject. Interesting.
"I got a call from an accountant saying that there was a new owner who was paying
the employees what they were owed from when the club unexpectedly closed down. I
was told the new owner was trying to entice some of the old staff back to work there."
"But it didn't work?"
She began to pace, rubbing her hands over her arms as if she were chilled in spite of
the fact she was wearing a long-sleeved blue sweater, a pair of jeans and sneakers. "Not
for me. The bartender, Barney Amos, was from the old days, but he was the only person
I saw other than the accountant, who was a stranger."
Cassidy nodded, ignoring the tight fit of his jeans as he watched the sway of her
lush behind while she paced around the confines of the small room. "What about Prince
and the other man...what was his name?"
"Saunders. Adrian Prince called him Saunders. And no, I didn't see either of them."
someone coming and ducked into a storage closet."
She hugged herself tighter. Cassidy wanted to go and stand behind her and wrap
his arms around her, warming her and assuring her that she was safe. He did neither.
"I didn't want to run into anyone. It was bad enough just having to go back to that
place. If I hadn't needed the money..." She shook her head and sucked in a deep breath.
"Anyway, they paused right outside the door and I heard their conversation. End of
story."
Every muscle in his body was tense enough to snap. "They had no idea you were
there?"
"Of course not." Blythe whirled around with a scowl on her face. "I waited a
minute and then went back out through the bar, told Barney I'd taken a look around the
old dressing rooms for old times' sake."
"He believed you?"
"I'm sure he did." But although her words were firm, Cassidy could tell she was no
longer certain.
"Why did you write the note to Lucian?"
Blythe shrugged. "It was the right thing to do. I couldn't let him hurt innocent
people if I could help it. The Prince brothers have hurt too many people." Her voice
faded as she drifted off into thought.
Cassidy's mind began to work furiously, sorting through all the facts. When Prince
found out his men were gone, he was going to suspect that the Dalakis family had
something to do with it. He'd also suspect that they'd somehow known about his
planned attack. The list would be short. The first person Prince would question would
be his staff, including the bar
tender. Cassidy suspected that the man would give Blythe
up in a heartbeat to save himself. He'd remember that she came from out back just after
Prince and his associate, Saunders, had been down that way.
"You have to come with me." Cassidy stood and held his hand out to her. Her eyes
widened and she stared at him like he was out of his mind.
"No." She backed away from him until she hit the wall. There was nowhere else for
her to go.
"Blythe." He wanted to soften his tone, but she needed to understand the
seriousness of the situation. She needed to be afraid. "Two of Adrian Prince's men have
already been taken care of. He's going to be angry and suspicious and want to know
how the Dalakis family found out about the planned attack. He's going to start
questioning people. If he suspects there's a leak in his organization, he's going to plug
it. Who do you think he'll talk to?"
She shrugged, although he could see the dawning comprehension.
"He'll talk to the accountant and the bartender," he continued ruthlessly. "If he's
smart, he'll figure out you were still in the building when he and Saunders were
talking. If nothing else, he'll want to talk to you."
Men like Adrian Prince didn't just talk to people and they both knew it. Blythe
began to shake. Cassidy thought it was with fear and started to soothe her. Before he
could open his mouth, she erupted.
"It's not fair. I thought that with Jethro dead I was free from that place, from that
family." Deep rage vibrated in every single word and Cassidy realized that Blythe was
more angry than frightened. Her blue eyes blazed. "Haven't they taken enough from
me?" she all but spat.
"I don't know," he answered quietly. "Have they?" He had no idea what had gone
on the year that she'd worked for the elder Prince, but he sure as hell was certain that
whatever it was, it hadn't been good. At least not for Blythe. The possibilities were
endless and enough to curdle his blood.
She shook her head. "Thanks for the warning. You can go now." Striding to the
door, she yanked it open. Cassidy rubbed his hand over his face. Every instinct he had
was telling him to toss her over his shoulder and drag her out of here. But even he
couldn't get away with something that outrageous. It would be kidnapping, plain and