be as safe as you think.”
“Don’t worry,” the detective said sternly. “I’ve got a really big gun.”
The Queen smiled again, this time with a touch of pity. “You know that won’t help if they come for her.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
Miranda looked at Stella. “I take her back to the Haven with me.”
Both Maguires must have looked flabbergasted; the Queen chuckled. “Only for a few days. I need to recall the Elite and get the network back up, and then I can have the evidence the vampire left behind analyzed and learn more about what he wants. Once I know what I’m dealing with, we can make a more sound decision about Stella.”
“Do I get a say in this?” Stella asked.
“No,” Miranda and the detective said at the same time.
Maguire rubbed his chin, and Stella almost smiled herself; he’d always done that when he was worried about something. She suddenly felt a little amazed by her father: All this time she’d thought he was so ordinary, but he had been up to his badge in vampires, knowing what they were capable of. His constant fretting over Stella’s safety made a lot more sense now . . . Stella was fretting a bit, too.
She couldn’t help it, though—the thought of seeing where Miranda lived gave her a thrill that overrode her sense of self-preservation. Lark would shit herself when she found out.
“Can you guarantee Stella will be safe with you?” Maguire asked. “I know you regulate your employees’ feeding, but I can’t say I’m too keen on the idea of her being surrounded by vampires.”
“Whoa . . . how many vampires are we talking about?”
Miranda glanced at Stella. “About a hundred, assuming they’re all alive. I give you my word, Detective, Stella will be under guard every moment she’s there. I’ll give her a com and put her on the network so even after she’s back in town she can call for help instantly if she needs to. Believe me, I won’t let anything happen to her. We’ve . . . we’ve lost enough already.”
Finally, Maguire nodded. “What do you need from APD?”
“Right now, nothing. Let me get my people back home and get a status report on the territory; as soon as I find out anything about the intruder I’ll send you the data and you can send out an alert to your officers.”
Which was how, two hours later, Stella wound up driving her car out Loop 360, a duffel bag full of clothes in the trunk, a cat carrier in the backseat, and a vampire riding shotgun.
She left Lark a voice mail calmly explaining the situation, though she anticipated a frantic call whenever her friend managed to check her phone. She also called in a “family emergency” to Foxglove at the shop; Foxglove knew her father was a cop, so she would probably assume something had happened to him. Stella hated lying, but she tried to be as vague as possible, hoping she could come up with something close to the truth by the time she got back to town.
Stella had no idea how to act in a car with her idol, but within ten minutes on the road, after giving her basic directions, Miranda fell asleep. With her head leaning against the window and her feet tucked up under her in the seat, the Queen looked so vulnerable and young—except for her face. Even asleep, there was pain in her face, and a kind of exhaustion Stella couldn’t even fathom.
How old was she really? Stella wondered, eyes on the road ahead. Miranda’s website bio said she was thirty, but how much of that was actual fact? She could be a hundred years old for all anyone knew, and looking at her now, Stella could believe it. There was so much weight on her heart . . . Stella remembered the night the call had come about her stepmother, shot in a robbery, and how she and her father had wandered the earth like ghosts for months . . . What must it be like to lose a soul mate?
“How old were you?”
Stella started, shooting Miranda a sideways glance. “Hey, no mind reading.”
A slight smile. “I
“Don’t worry,” the detective said sternly. “I’ve got a really big gun.”
The Queen smiled again, this time with a touch of pity. “You know that won’t help if they come for her.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
Miranda looked at Stella. “I take her back to the Haven with me.”
Both Maguires must have looked flabbergasted; the Queen chuckled. “Only for a few days. I need to recall the Elite and get the network back up, and then I can have the evidence the vampire left behind analyzed and learn more about what he wants. Once I know what I’m dealing with, we can make a more sound decision about Stella.”
“Do I get a say in this?” Stella asked.
“No,” Miranda and the detective said at the same time.
Maguire rubbed his chin, and Stella almost smiled herself; he’d always done that when he was worried about something. She suddenly felt a little amazed by her father: All this time she’d thought he was so ordinary, but he had been up to his badge in vampires, knowing what they were capable of. His constant fretting over Stella’s safety made a lot more sense now . . . Stella was fretting a bit, too.
She couldn’t help it, though—the thought of seeing where Miranda lived gave her a thrill that overrode her sense of self-preservation. Lark would shit herself when she found out.
“Can you guarantee Stella will be safe with you?” Maguire asked. “I know you regulate your employees’ feeding, but I can’t say I’m too keen on the idea of her being surrounded by vampires.”
“Whoa . . . how many vampires are we talking about?”
Miranda glanced at Stella. “About a hundred, assuming they’re all alive. I give you my word, Detective, Stella will be under guard every moment she’s there. I’ll give her a com and put her on the network so even after she’s back in town she can call for help instantly if she needs to. Believe me, I won’t let anything happen to her. We’ve . . . we’ve lost enough already.”
Finally, Maguire nodded. “What do you need from APD?”
“Right now, nothing. Let me get my people back home and get a status report on the territory; as soon as I find out anything about the intruder I’ll send you the data and you can send out an alert to your officers.”
Which was how, two hours later, Stella wound up driving her car out Loop 360, a duffel bag full of clothes in the trunk, a cat carrier in the backseat, and a vampire riding shotgun.
She left Lark a voice mail calmly explaining the situation, though she anticipated a frantic call whenever her friend managed to check her phone. She also called in a “family emergency” to Foxglove at the shop; Foxglove knew her father was a cop, so she would probably assume something had happened to him. Stella hated lying, but she tried to be as vague as possible, hoping she could come up with something close to the truth by the time she got back to town.
Stella had no idea how to act in a car with her idol, but within ten minutes on the road, after giving her basic directions, Miranda fell asleep. With her head leaning against the window and her feet tucked up under her in the seat, the Queen looked so vulnerable and young—except for her face. Even asleep, there was pain in her face, and a kind of exhaustion Stella couldn’t even fathom.
How old was she really? Stella wondered, eyes on the road ahead. Miranda’s website bio said she was thirty, but how much of that was actual fact? She could be a hundred years old for all anyone knew, and looking at her now, Stella could believe it. There was so much weight on her heart . . . Stella remembered the night the call had come about her stepmother, shot in a robbery, and how she and her father had wandered the earth like ghosts for months . . . What must it be like to lose a soul mate?
“How old were you?”
Stella started, shooting Miranda a sideways glance. “Hey, no mind reading.”
A slight smile. “I
Similar Books
