Out of the Night (18 page)

She fought the nervous laughter that bubbled up inside her. She'd wanted a reaction—and she'd gotten one.

At first, she'd thought he was angry with her, but when he held her close, she knew his anger was directed toward the other men in the room—anyone who might dare to look at her. The alpha wolf in the pack warning all the other males off with his snarl and, if necessary, his bite.

The visual of Mac biting bit too close to home, and she quickly sobered.

"How did things go at the morgue?"

"Piece of cake." He pulled her closer as he maneuvered them out of the path of another couple, but something in his tone worried her.

"So, no problems at all?"

She heard him sigh. "Only that I seemed to be in a fog all afternoon. I didn't start feeling better until dark."

She thought about it as they continued to dance, though it was hard to focus while his hand caressed the small of her back. "In a way, that makes sense. The chupacabra turns to stone during the day, going into a state of hibernation. Sunlight apparently affects you in a similar way, causing you to sleep—or at least, making you very tired."

"Beats turning into a ball of flames."

They fell silent and neither spoke for the rest of the dance. When the band finished playing and the last notes of the tune trailed off, Mac brought them to a halt. With no excuse to stay in his embrace, she reluctantly stepped back.

"I see Dirk found the admiral. They're over by the buffet. Would you mind if we went over there?"

She looked to where he indicated and saw the two. "Who's that with them?"

"Dennis Rogers."

She turned back to Mac. "The guy who came forward with testimony about Burton? I thought you said he was dead?"

"I exaggerated. Someone—Burton, I believe—tried to kill him. They failed, but Admiral Winslow thought it might be better to let them think otherwise."

"Is it safe for him to be here?"

"Probably not, but remember, they think Burton's dead and hence no longer a threat." As Mac talked, he unbuttoned his jacket and took it off. "I want you to put this on."

His request caught her off guard. "Oh, thanks, but that's okay. I'm not cold."

"Lanie, if you don't put on this jacket, I'm going to have to fight every man in here."

She stared at him, not sure if he was serious or not. "Fine." She acquiesced, not bothering to tell him it was only because she felt self-conscious wearing the dress in front of Admiral Winslow—who reminded her of her father. Let Mac think whatever he wanted.

He draped the jacket over her shoulders, and she delighted in the lingering warmth that made her feel as though he still held her close. Then he placed his hand along the small of her back and guided her toward the buffet table.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little," she admitted. "I sort of skipped dinner."

"Me, too. Let's get some food before we go over there."

He handed her a plate, taking one for himself, and as they walked along the buffet, he pointed to the various items and when she nodded, he served her. When they had all they wanted, they walked over to join Dirk, the admiral, and Rogers. Lanie didn't miss Dirk's smirk or the admiral's surprised look, which he quickly masked behind genuine pleasure at seeing her.

"Lanie, it's good to see you again. You look stunning tonight," the admiral said, giving her a hug around the plate of food. "I'm so sorry about your father. He was a good friend, and I'm going to miss him."

"Thank you," Lanie murmured, wondering how he'd take the news that her father was still alive—sort of.

"I believe you know Dirk," Admiral Winslow continued, "but let me introduce you to Dennis Rogers. He was another member of Mac's team."

"Pleasure, ma'am," Rogers said, dipping his head in a slight bow.

"Mac, I thought you were going to come by earlier today." The admiral's reprimand was gentle, but pointed.

"I ran into problems," Mac replied, his tone serious.

The admiral's smile vanished. "Could you be more specific?"

"Yes, sir. Lance Burton."

"What about him? He's dead." Rogers sounded alarmed as he looked at each of mem. "Isn't he?"

"It's complicated," Mac replied.

"More so man you think," the admiral said, getting all their attention. "Patterson, Brown, and Kinsley have disappeared. Their rooms were found in shambles, and the police suspect foul play."

"When did that happen?" Mac was clearly startled by the news.

"Last night," the admiral replied.

"Who are Patterson, Brown, and Kinsley?" Lanie asked.

"They were men in our unit," Dirk answered.

Beside her, Mac's body grew tense. At first she thought he was reacting to the news, but when he cocked his head to one side, it seemed more to her as if he were listening for something, although she wasn't sure what. Then, in slow motion, he set his plate of half-eaten food on a nearby table and scanned the room. As if they communicated on an unseen wavelength, the other three men also looked around, though Lanie was sure they had no more idea what to look for than she did.

With Mac acting so strangely, her own fears rose. Wanting reassurance, she reached out to place her hand on his arm, needing to feel his strength. Without glancing at her, he covered her hand with his own.

"Mac?" This time it was Dirk asking the question, and it seemed to break the spell. Taking Lanie's forgotten plate of food from her hand, Mac set it next to his. Then he turned back to Dirk. "I don't know, but something's not right. I'm getting Lanie out of here, and then I'll be back. Keep your eyes open."

Dirk nodded.

Pulling her by the hand, Mac led her through the crowd, heading for the nearest door, which happened to be the one the waitstaff had been using all night to keep the buffet table filled with food. They had almost reached it when Mac came to an abrupt halt.

"What's wrong?" Lanie whispered, using her free hand to brace against his back to keep from running into him.

Again, he cocked his head as if he were listening and then started moving, but in a different direction this time, through the crowd toward the main doors.

Once out in the hallway, Mac didn't slow down. Lanie did her best to keep up, but his stride was longer than hers and she was wearing heels, not to mention a long skirt. When they reached the short staircase to the lower landing, she almost fell.

"Mac, slow down," she bit out, irritation pushing the fear aside. "I can't keep up." When he didn't immediately stop, she pulled back on the hand holding her.

Almost distractedly, he looked back to see what was slowing him down. Maybe it was her panting or maybe it was the glare she shot him, but instead of yanking her forward, as she expected, he stopped and came back to her side. Still holding on to her with one hand, he gently cupped her cheek with the other.

"I'm sorry, baby. Are you okay?"

"No." His endearment caught her off guard. "You're scaring me. What's going on?"

At that moment the lights flickered and went out. Lanie felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as alarm swept through her. She gripped Mac's hand more tightly. "Mac?" Her whisper echoed in the silence, and she opened her eyes wider, hoping to see something, anything, in the total darkness.

"Shit." Mac's muttered oath beside her was almost comforting. "I knew I should have brought my gun. Okay, put your arms through the sleeves of the jacket, so you don't have to worry about it falling off, and then hold up your skirt. We're out of here."

She felt him lift the jacket from her shoulders and help guide her hands when she couldn't find the armholes. "Thanks." She stood perfectly still, afraid to move. "I can't see a thing. How do we know which way is out?"

"No problem," he said, taking her hand. "I can see fine."

It seemed they walked a long time and Lanie, who'd been trying to keep track of where they were in the dark, was completely lost.

Suddenly the emergency lights blinked on, throwing an eerie green glow over the empty corridors. Lanie's eyes had almost adjusted when she heard the sound of women screaming and knew it had to be coming from the ballroom.

As one, they stopped.

"We have to go back," she said.

"No, it's too dangerous."

"Mac, I have to. If someone's hurt, I might be able to help."

It seemed to her that he took a long time deciding, but a part of him must have wanted to return as well, because when they started walking, it was back toward the reception.

They hadn't taken more than four or five steps, however, when a shift in the shadows stopped them. Clutching Mac's hand tighter, Lanie watched as two men stepped out of the dark.

One of them was Burton.

The other was a man Lanie had never seen before, but she was familiar with the man's pale skin and glowing eyes. This was another vampire.

No sooner had the thought formed than the two vampires rushed them. Mac, still holding Lanie's hand, tried to push her out of harm's way as he faced the men, but Burton reached him first and the punch he delivered sent Mac flying.

About to ran to him, Lanie was pulled up short by the other vampire's powerful grip on her arm. He held her easily and Mac, who'd managed to get to his feet, hesitated, giving Burton time to grab him and shove him against the wall.

"Isn't this a surprise?" Burton snarled. "You know, Knight, I'm about shit full of running into you everywhere I go. You think you're going to stop me, is that it?" He gave a nasty, short laugh. "You never thought much of me, did you, Knight? Well, I've got news for you. I'm not like I was before. Death changes a man." He leaned close so that his mouth, lips curled tight and fangs protruding, was only inches from Mac's ear. "What do you think of me now?"

Lanie watched Mac strain to look at Burton out of the corner of his eye. Instead, his gaze locked with hers, and she knew he saw her fear. An expression of rage crossed his face, equal to the frustration she felt at not being able to help. She struggled against her captor, but he held her easily.

Then she saw something that frightened her more. Mac's eyes began to glow. In the gloom of the dimly lit hallway, they took on a reddish light—and they weren't the only pair shining like that. Two others matched his.

A growling noise, barely audible over Burton's heavy breathing, distracted her from Mac's eyes. She wondered where it came from until she realized it, too, came from Mac. Almost before her eyes, he seemed to gather his anger inside him until it burst forth. He pushed away from the wall, catching Burton off guard so that he fell back a step. In one fluid motion, Mac spun around and slammed his fist into Burton's face. The impact of that blow was so
great that even after Burton hit the floor, he slid for several feet until Lanie lost sight of him behind the man holding her.

Whipping her gaze back to Mac, she found him standing a few feet away, his lips curling back to reveal his newly formed fangs. In the face of such obvious rage and promise of carnage to come, the hands holding her tightened as they dragged her back a step.

"Let her go." Mac's tone sounded lethal as he glared at the vampire clutching her.

In the distance, she heard the faint sound of running footsteps, but knew whoever it was wouldn't be able to help. This was not a battle between mere mortals. This was something more.