Immortal Ever After (29 page)

“No, don’t,” Greg’s words brought him to an abrupt halt. “We’ll go to her. It will be more natural. She’ll be relaxed, more likely to remember things than if we drag her in here and make her feel like she’s being grilled.”

“She’s going to know what you’re doing and tense up the minute you ask her to return to her memories anyway,” Jo said sensibly.

“Yes,” Greg agreed. “But I want to ask her some other questions first and see if we can’t sort out what the women may have had in common. How he came across each of them. That might tell us something about him that would lead us to where he would go now.”

Anders nodded. “Let’s go.”

Everyone in the room began to move as Anders turned away. It made him shake his head. They weren’t all going to fit in the kitchen. Aside from himself, there was Christian, his life mate, Carolyn, and his four bandmates, and then Greg, Lucian, Mortimer, Nicholas, Jo, and Decker. Lissianna, Dani, and Sam had opted to help Leigh and Valerie with the cooking. There was simply no way they were all going to fit into the kitchen.

Sixteen

O
kay, so maybe they would all fit in the kitchen, Anders thought as he stepped into the large bright room. It was a lot bigger in reality than in his memory, but then he wasn’t often in here.

Anders thoughts died as he came to a halt just inside the kitchen. It was the sight of Valerie over by the refrigerator, examining Justin like he was a horse up for sale that made him stop. The young Enforcer stood completely still, a quickly dwindling blood bag in his mouth, and eyes wide as Valerie stood beside him, pulling his upper lip back and poking at his teeth.

“There must be a direct path into the bloodstream via the fangs,” she was saying thoughtfully. “But I don’t see how. Or how they can draw in the blood without some sort of pump system or something . . . unless the nanos do the actual work of drawing in the blood. Hmmm.”

The blood bag was empty now, and Justin removed it with relief, muttering, “Yeah. Well, I don’t know how it works. I just enjoy the benefits.”

“Can I see your fangs again?” Valerie asked.

“Er . . .” Justin said, then spotted Anders and smiled with relief. “Anders, buddy. Show your woman your fangs.”

“Shy, Bricker? You?” Anders asked dryly, moving forward again as Valerie glanced around to smile at him.

“Nah. I just don’t want to show you up by letting her see how much bigger my fangs are than yours,” Justin responded.

“Actually, I saw Anders’s fangs at his house this afternoon and they’re bigger than yours,” Valerie said at once, and then as Anders reached her side, she glanced at him and asked, “Why? Is it like big fangs, big feet, big—?”

Anders put an end to her question by kissing her naughty mouth. God, he loved this woman. Justin had tried to embarrass him and she had slapped him back with so little effort that—

His thoughts died as Anders’s brain caught and held on to one particular sentence that had run through his mind. God, he loved this woman? Breaking their kiss, he lifted his head and stared down into her sweet face. She was like a ray of sunshine. Golden hair, porcelain skin, bright green eyes, luscious red lips. She was as beautiful as the sun to him, and he’d always thought the sun the most beautiful thing in the world. Perhaps because he could never really enjoy it, and he’d only allowed himself brief glimpses of it, or enjoyed it secondhand from the memories of mortals he fed off. It was only the last decade or so that he’d been able to enjoy it properly with the help of the window coating that blocked UV rays.

Valerie rivaled the sun in his eyes. And won. If given the choice of seeing her every day but never seeing the sun again, or never seeing her again and getting to enjoy the sun, Valerie would win hands down, he acknowledged.

Anders had always understood that the nanos got it right when they chose a life mate for an immortal. He just hadn’t realized how right it could be. When he was with Valerie, he felt at peace. He enjoyed her smile, her laughter, her chatter, her sense of humor, her everything. He enjoyed just being with her, even if they were saying nothing. And he definitely enjoyed their passion.

“Anders?” Greg’s deep voice interrupted his musings.

Straightening, he turned and stared at Greg for one blank moment, and then nodded. “Valerie, this is Greg Hewitt. He’s—”

“Lissianna’s husband,” Valerie said with a smile, holding her hand out to Greg. “Nice to meet you. Lissianna is lovely.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Greg said with a smile, then raised an eyebrow and glanced around. “Speaking of my wife, where is she?”

“Outside,” Valerie answered. “She was in here helping us, but Luciana got fussy, so she took her out to let her run around the yard while she checked with Sam and Dani to see if they were good at the barbecue or needed anything.”

“Sam and Dani are manning the barbecue?” Decker asked with a frown. “Why didn’t they call one of us to handle that?”

“Because you all were busy,” Valerie said with a shrug. “Besides, there was no need. As Sam said, she’s a lawyer and Dani’s a doctor, between the two of them they should be able to get the barbecue going without blowing up the place.”

“Christ,” Mortimer muttered and hurried out of the room with Decker on his heels.

Anders tightened the arm he still had around Valerie, giving her a little squeeze. He’d caught the twinkle in her eye, even if the other two men hadn’t.

“You have a beautiful daughter,” Valerie said now to Greg. “She’s a little wingless cherub with her golden curls, chubby little rosy cheeks and those gorgeous big, silver-blue eyes. Speaking of which,” she added, turning back to Anders. “You guys all have kind of metallic eyes. They’re either silver-blue, silver-green, or black and gold like yours. Is that because of the nanos?”

“Yes,” Anders answered.

Before she could ask why the nanos had that effect on the eyes, which Anders suspected would be the next question, Greg asked one of his own, “I hear you’re a vet here to take some upgrade courses at the Veterinary College at the University of Guelph?”

Valerie nodded. “And I hear you’re a psychologist? That must make for an interesting job.”

“At times,” he agreed wryly, and then said, “I gather one of the other women taken by your kidnapper worked at the university? Billie?”

“Yes, she—” Valerie stopped abruptly, her eyebrows drawing together. “Wait. Did you say worked?”

“Sorry, I meant works. She works there,” Greg corrected himself quickly.

Valerie stared at him for a minute and then turned to Anders. “Is Billie all right?”

Anders could feel all eyes on him. He knew everyone wanted him to lie and say Billie was fine so they could get on with questioning Valerie, but he just couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t lie to Valerie. But before he could tell her Billie had been taken, Lucian spoke up, drawing Valerie’s attention his way.

“She still works at the university coffee shop and will be fine,” Lucian said.

Anders was just relaxing when Valerie turned back to him and asked, “Is Billie fine
right now
?”

Grimacing, he shook his head. “She was taken from her workplace just before we got here.” Her eyes widened with horror and she opened her mouth to say something, but he rushed on, saying, “We don’t know the details yet, Valerie. As soon as I know, you’ll know. In the meantime, Greg has some questions for you. They’ll help us help her.”

Valerie was silent for a moment, and then nodded and turned to Greg. “Go ahead.”

Greg glanced from Anders to Valerie and then said, “You and Billie have a connection to the Guelph University. Did any of the others? Could the college or university be where he found all of you?”

Valerie considered the possibility, but shook her head. “I don’t think so. Laura was a realtor and Cindy was a teacher. Kathy was unemployed. Billie was the only one who mentioned a connection to the university or college.”

Greg looked disappointed, but then said, “All right, you saw Cindy at the vet’s. Perhaps he is connected to the vet clinic and that’s how he got onto you all.”

Valerie shook her head at once. “The day I saw Cindy at the clinic was the first time I ever went there. I only did that because I needed flea pills for Roxy and didn’t want to waste Anders’s time driving to Cambridge. It just happened to be the closest clinic. I had no connection to it before that.”

Greg was silent for a moment, but then sighed and said, “Tell us about the house.”

Valerie glanced from him to Anders uncertainly. “Tell you what about the house?”

“Whatever you can remember,” Greg said. “I understand most of your time was spent in a cage in the dark in the basement?”

Valerie nodded and moved closer to Anders. He suspected it was a subconscious action. She was seeking comfort. He tightened the arm he had around her and rubbed his hand soothingly up and down her upper arm.

“But you were taken upstairs twice,” Greg continued. “I’d like you to close your eyes and go back there in your memory for us and tell us everything you see. Can you do that?”

Valerie hesitated, obviously not eager to do so, but then she grimaced, nodded, and closed her eyes.

“Good,” Greg said. “It’s the last night you were in your cage. Igor has let you out of your cage and is leading you upstairs. The first room at the top of the stairs is what?”

“A kitchen,” she said quietly.

“Can you describe everything you see in that kitchen?” Greg asked.

Valerie was silent for a moment, but Anders could see her eyelids twitching as if she were looking around. He suspected she was seeing the kitchen again.

“I was looking for a weapon,” she said suddenly. “I had my head down and was using my hair for cover. The floor was black and white checker tile, the kitchen table an old aluminum job with that speckled top, circa ‘really old.’ The cupboards were plain rectangles, that bright blue they used fifty years ago, and the countertops were completely bare. It was like it was an empty house they’d taken over or something.”

Anders continued to rub her arm. It hadn’t been an empty house. Igor and his boss must have emptied out the rooms they wouldn’t be using. But they hadn’t told Valerie that the old couple who owned the place had been killed and left to rot in the room behind the room where her cage had been. There was no need to give her worse nightmares.

“Nothing at all on the countertops?” Greg questioned with a frown. “What about on the fridge? Were there any magnets with notes, or mail, or—”

“No. There was nothing,” Valerie assured him.

“Okay,” Greg said. “You’re leaving the kitchen. Now what do you see?”

“A hall as empty as the kitchen, and then we’re heading up the stairs.”

“You must have passed rooms on the way to the stairs. Did you see anything in the rooms?”

“Nothing near the doorways and that’s all I saw,” she said and reminded him, “My head was down.”

“Okay, you’re mounting the stairs. What do you see at the top?”

“I raised my head as we mounted the stairs, and then we were in another hallway. There’s a blue shag carpet—God I hate shag,” she added in a disgusted mutter. “It gets all gross and matted.”

Greg smiled faintly. “Anything else?”

“Paneled walls, a cheap, fake Renaissance portrait, and he turns me to the left and—”

“A Renaissance portrait?” Greg interrupted sharply.

Valerie opened her eyes curiously. “Yeah. But it was a bad knockoff, ugly and dirty-looking.”

Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Marguerite has portraits of herself and her children down through the ages. She has them taken care of, has them cleaned and touched up regularly and so forth when the paint begins to darken or crack, but if your rogue didn’t, the painting might look dirty and cheap.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You think the portrait might be of him?”

Rather than answer, Greg glanced to Lucian in question. “Do most immortals keep portraits of themselves?”

“Some,” he acknowledged. “There were no cameras back then and portraits were the only way to capture memories. But it could just as easily be a cheap knockoff, as Valerie thought. Something the previous owners had put up.”

“They took everything out of the kitchen that belonged to the previous owners. What makes you think they left anything in the rest of the house?” Greg asked.

Lucian raised his eyebrows. “Good point. I suppose it could be of him. That would explain why he’d want the women back. They might have been able to describe his portrait.”

“But none of the others mentioned it, did they?” Anders asked. No one had mentioned the portrait to him prior to this.

“No,” Lucian acknowledged.

“But the others were drugged, probably unsteady on their feet and watching their step because of it. Valerie wasn’t drugged and was looking for a weapon to facilitate her escape,” Greg pointed out. “However, he couldn’t be sure that one of them might not have glanced up. At least not without searching their memories. To do that, he needed to recapture them.”

Anders frowned. That didn’t bode well for the women that had been recaptured. If he’d only taken them to search their memories and ensure they didn’t tell anyone about the portrait, then he had no reason to keep them alive. His plan might actually be to capture and kill each of the women and then move on to new, safer pastures.

“True,” Greg said.

Anders glanced up to see that the psychologist was speaking to him. He’d read his mind, he realized with irritation.

“But that means there’s good news,” Greg continued. “If he’s worried about that portrait, it’s because someone might recognize him from it.”

“Maybe, but no one has recognized Igor yet,” Anders pointed out.

Greg shrugged. “He may be new. A newer turn that the rogue took on to tend to the women and do the more unpleasant or heavy work he doesn’t want to do.” He paused to let that sink in and then added, “But he himself may be more recognizable . . . especially if he’s been around a while and had enough wealth and power to be able to afford a portrait. I suspect those didn’t come cheap.”

“No, they didn’t,” Lucian agreed and glanced to Valerie. “Describe the portrait. You said Renaissance. Are you sure, or was that just a guess?”