Autumn Whispers

“Yeah, harsh is the word for it, all right. So, did you draw up a list?”

The waitress brought our blood. It was bottled like beer, only the bottles were red to mask the color for squeamish bar patrons, and to differentiate it from the alcoholic beverage. Couldn’t have a mix-up.

I cradled the bottle in my hands, then took a long swig. A wave of hunger ran through me as I tasted the blood. If that hunger gnawed too much, I’d want to go out hunting, and right now, I didn’t have the heart for it. Too much death, too much anger and fear running rampant in my life.

Roman pulled out his tablet. He’d gone high tech when high tech was still a baby and his ease with the computer world confounded me the more I saw it in action. I hadn’t known that little fact about him, not at first, but slowly had begun to realize just how savvy he was.

He tapped an icon, then another, and a document sprang up. As he scooted close to me, my skin tingled. He was old—one of the older vampires, son of the queen. And his very presence exuded a magnetism hard to ignore. It made me want to run my hands over his chest, to slam him down on the ground and tear into him, fucking his brains out. That was one thing about being Roman’s consort—it gave me the outlet I couldn’t have with Nerissa. Roman and I could play rough without hurting each other. In a way, it let me keep my love and passion for my wife safe and secure, keeping her safe from my inner predator.

“Later,” he murmured, feeling it too. “We’ll play very soon.”

“Count on it.” I gazed into his eyes, the crackle of energy almost palpable between us. But then, bringing myself back to the task at hand, I took the tablet from him and scanned the document.

We really had no clue how many vamps frequented the Wayfarer, but there were some known regulars who had loved hanging out there since I’d become Roman’s official consort. And that list ran to over forty names. As I looked it over , I recognized a number of them. Roman had rushed to pull this together, putting his best men on it.

The names had been highlighted with two colors. Green meant the vampire had been accounted for. Yellow meant they were missing and nobody had been able to get in touch with them. Out of the forty-two names, thirteen were highlighted in yellow. Their last known contact was listed, as well.

I winced. That meant we potentially had thirteen more victims. “Can you sort these out from the others and e-mail them to my phone?” I’d given in and accepted that I needed an e-mail address, as much as I hadn’t wanted to go that route. Delilah had embraced her laptop. Camille had embraced her iPhone. I hadn’t fallen in love with either one yet, though I had to admit, I loved my iPod, especially since I could plug it into my car.

“Hand it over.” He tapped away while I sipped the rest of my blood.

“Should I track them down?” I didn’t relish the legwork. It wasn’t that I was lazy, but we had so much going on that tracking missing vamps who might already be dead seemed like a colossal time suck.

“I’ve already got my men on it.” He punched one final button and I heard a little swoosh sound. The next moment, my phone pinged and the list was in my e-mail inbox.

I played with the bottle, sliding it around on the table. “Thanks. By the way, in addition to trying to figure out who burned down the Wayfarer—they’re pretty sure it’s arson by now—I have the lovely privilege of having been served with a lawsuit. Don’t know if I told you that. Add yet another thing to the week-from-hell list.”

“What are you talking about?” Roman set down his tablet.

“I’m being sued for wrongful death or some such crap. One of the victim’s families wasted no time in snagging a lawyer and slapping me with a lawsuit. Makes me wonder just how much they actually gave a damn for their daughter.” Feeling terribly grumpy, I reached in my purse and pulled out the summons I’d received the night before and tossed it on the table. “Lovely, huh?”

Roman silently opened it, scanned it through—he read incredibly fast and I guessed his intelligence to be genius level—and then thoughtfully folded it back up and set it on the table.

“Bullshit. I’ll have my lawyer contact you and we’ll put a stop to this folly.” He shook his head. “Money grubbing bastards.”

“Chase said he’d find me a lawyer—”

“Nonsense. I have the best money can buy. You are my consort. That’s all there is to it.” He frowned, worrying his lower lip with his fangs. Then he placed his hand over mine. “I want to talk to you about something— two things actually. First, I want to pay for the rebuilding of your establishment.”

Roman, pay for rebuilding the Wayfarer? As much as I cared for him and was bound to him, I still didn’t fully trust him. I knew that Camille and Delilah assumed that I’d given myself fully over, and it was true, now that he was my sire I had to answer to him. But that didn’t stop me from keeping my eyes open.

I shook my head. “Thank you, but no. Smoky and Shade have already offered and I’ve accepted. Dragons horde treasure beyond even ancient vamps. They want to do this and I’d like to let them.” It was, I thought, the most tactful way around saying, “Thanks, but I don’t want you having a stake in my bar.” Of course, Roman was smart enough to know what I was up to, but decorum had been observed and I knew him well enough to figure he’d accept my wishes.

He just laughed. “I know what you’re pulling. Fine, then. Refuse my help. But if you need it, all you have to do is ask. I truly do not have a hidden agenda in helping you, you know. But Menolly, we’ll find out who did this. I promise you all the help I can give to finding out who torched your bar. And when we do . . . they’d better pray to whatever gods they follow.”

His voice was soft, low, and curled around me, inviting me in. I leaned closer to him and he wrapped his arm around me, pressing his lips to mine. I leisurely let his tongue dart between my lips and returned the kiss, melting into his embrace. It was long and slow, without pressure. We both knew that tonight was a no-go and that I needed to head home, so we left it at that. But it stoked my fire, and I knew that once I reached home, I’d be dragging Nerissa down to our lair, to fuck her brains out.

Finally, I pulled away. “What’s the other thing you wanted to ask me?”

He cocked his head, the frost of his eyes glittering. “It’s about your daughter, Erin.”

I’d turned exactly one person: Erin Mathews. Former owner of the Scarlet Harlot lingerie boutique, she’d been captured when my former sire came looking for me to finish the job he’d started. Erin was almost dead when we got to her, and I’d given her the option of letting me turn her into a vampire. Otherwise, she would have died. She’d chosen eternal life, and, just like that, I’d birthed a middle-aged daughter. Erin was smart, and she was learning quickly how to adapt.

“What about her?” Erin had been working as secretary for Vampires Anonymous, a self-help club for newly minted vamps. Run by a friend—Wade Stevens, a vampire and former psychologist who had taken it upon himself to help the newly turned—the VA provided a place where the undead could bridge the gap with their living family and friends and learn how to coexist without giving in to their inner predators.

“I want to take her out of the VA. She’s got the nature I’m looking for. I’d like to train her for my security department. She could rise quickly in the ranks.” The tone of Roman’s voice told me that he wasn’t going to give up on this one without a fight.

I thought about the offer. Truthfully, Erin would probably love it. She wanted to be useful. Erin wasn’t a woman who was happy sitting around. She’d hated the inactivity that Sassy had forced on her when I had left her with the socialite vamp. Sassy Branson had been a dear friend, but her inner predator had finally won out. I’d had to take her out—a promise I’d made when she was still in control of herself.

Erin’s job she had now made her happy, but I knew she was itching for more to do, and she had too much talent and know-how to waste.

“I’ll stop on the way home and offer her the opportunity. If she’s up for it, no problem. Might do her a lot of good. If not, then you’ll let her be.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

I paused, then decided to approach a subject that had been bugging me for a week or two. I hadn’t even told my sisters about it yet. “You know . . . lately, I’ve had the feeling I’m being watched.”

Roman cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“For the past week or so, I have felt that somebody has been watching over my shoulder. But I haven’t been able to pinpoint who it might be. Or, maybe . . . maybe it’s just my imagination. Anyway, I’d better head out. They’re waiting for me at home.” I slugged back the last drops of blood and shook my head to clear my thoughts.

Before I could slide out of the booth, the owner of the Utopia—Shikra—glided up to our table. She was