Hunted By The Others (34 page)

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Authors: Jess Haines

BOOK: Hunted By The Others
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“Oh, don’t worry, Ms. Waynest. They’ll be coming to you soon enough. And once they do, you’ll come running to us for help.”

I stood, a thread of fear trailing down my spine, even as I finally boiled over. I pointed at the door. “Get the hell out of my office! Stay away from me!”

He swung the door open and sauntered out of the room, his cool, arrogant laughter trailing behind him. My glare stayed trained on him until his shadowed frame was no longer visible behind the frosted glass of the front door.

Jen twisted around in her chair to peer into my office, staring at me with wide brown eyes over the rims of her glasses. “Jeez, Shia, what was that all about?”

I shook my head, coming around my desk to shut the door to my office. “Nothing. But if he comes back, or tries to make another appointment, I’m out of the office. No—out of the country.”

She shrugged, muttered something, and turned back to her desk to work on the stack of papers in front of her. I glared at the frosted glass door with its gold leaf-inscribed “H&W INVESTIGATIONS,” even though Jack was long gone.

As much as he pissed me off, he scared me more. Or maybe him saying the Others would come looking for me scared me more. Hell, I think I was entitled to be a little unsettled considering I’d had a gun waved in my face. Irritated and upset, I twisted around, calling over my shoulder as I shut the door, “Hold my calls. If anyone asks, I’ve gone home for the day.”

Some preventative measures needed to be taken about this Max Carlyle, I thought. I went to my desk and sat in the squeaky office chair, rolling it back so I could rifle through the back of the top drawer. After rummaging through a scattering of old Post-it notes, paper clips, pens and papers, I finally found the leather-bound notebook I kept business cards filed in.

I flipped through the pages until I found the neat, professional card for A. D. Royce Industries. It had all the data I needed to contact Alec Royce, the vampire I’d been doing my best to avoid the past several months. The one I’d ended up legally, contractually bound to, who’d been sending me invitations to a night on the town and, presumably, other things. All of which I’d carefully ignored up until now.

Daylight still shone through the window behind my desk, but I figured I could leave a message if he didn’t pick up. I grabbed my cell, dug the card out of the little plastic holder, and dialed the handwritten number scrawled on the back.

Tucking the phone between my head and shoulder, I fixed my eyes on the framed photograph of Chaz and me on the corner of my desk. We were leaning back against the rail together at the end of the pier in Greenport and his arms were wrapped around me. I tried not to think about what Chaz would say about me calling the vamp, listened to the ringing, and finally, a click. “You’ve reached the desk of Alec Royce. I’m not in right now, but if you leave a message with your name and number, I’ll get back to you.”

That mild, friendly voice gave me the shivers, worse than anything that Jack had said or done. Did I really want to get back in touch with the vampire? Even though we were technically no longer enemies, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe he’d get the wrong idea about why I’d called him. After swallowing hard and hesitating a bit longer than I should have, I remembered I was supposed to be leaving a message and squeaked out a few words.

“Yeah, Mr. Royce, this—it’s Shiarra Waynest. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions. I might need your help with something.” I left him my cell number and was about to hang up, hesitated again, and added, “Thanks.”

I set the receiver down, wondering if I’d done the right thing. Damn it all to hell and back, I was putting myself back in the fire by contacting him again. Regardless, I needed to know who Max Carlyle was, and what sort of danger he represented. Since Jack specifically brought up Royce when talking about Max, I had to hope Royce would have some idea about what was going on. After all, he was an elder, influential vamp. He had all sorts of connections that informed him well ahead of time when somebody gunned for him or planned to do something that would influence him or his properties. I knew at least that much about him from prior experience.

Depending on what Royce told me, I might have to lay low and hide somewhere out of town for a few days. Or a few months. Whatever would keep my ass out of the fire.

ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2010 by Jess Haines

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-1-4201-1941-1

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