Ravenous

at the moment I am his butler.'

'Well, the uniform looks good on you. Nice, um, shirt.'

Alessandro shifted his weight to one hip, settling into his insouciant slouch. Hot-pink silk framed an expanse of pale, muscular chest. His long curls of pale blond hair slid with languid ease over the fabric, the sound a faint, suggestive whisper.

'I came looking for you,' he said. 'Your grandmother mentioned where you were going, and that you would be coming alone.'

His eyes caught hers for a moment, but gave away nothing. She wondered how much exactly Grandma had said—but Holly couldn't reply, her mouth too dry for words. Her gaze lowered to the perfect pale chest in front of her. And the shirt. It was so… pink. Hot. Very hot.

Finally he shrugged. 'The detective and I agreed that we three could discuss what we know about recent events. He has been interviewing me as he chopped parsley.'

Holly felt a flicker of irritation. She felt confused, torn between Alessandro's bare chest and Macmillan's micro-grins. She hadn't wanted a steamy date with the detective, but now she felt unaccountably cheated that it wasn't even a possibility. Damn.

'Why do you care about sharing information with the police?' she asked.

Alessandro shrugged. 'I need to know what he knows. He has forensics, databases, and all the rest of the modern world's monstrous wealth of information. I'm willing to dangle a few tidbits to get access to that.'

'Did you learn anything?'

'Only that there was a fourth murder. Same as before. Apparently it was on the news tonight. The detective and I could make quite a team if he would simply get past the not commenting on an active investigation.

'Besides all that,' he said, leaning closer, 'aren't you glad I'm here? What do you really know of this man? Why did he suddenly call you?'

Holly raised an eyebrow. 'I think I can look after myself.'

'No doubt, but I prefer to examine him before abandoning you to his clutches. I always wonder when people do something unexpected.'

'A man asking me to dinner is unexpected?'

'You met over a pile of dead bodies mere days ago. Now he's carving little radish garnishes and humming to himself. It's creepy.' Alessandro turned, nodding to his left. 'The living room is through there. Make yourself comfortable while I open the wine.'

Just what I need, A chaperon. Piqued, she went to take a seat but then stopped cold as she entered the room. The sight made her breath catch in her throat. The room was small, but tall windows stretched across most of two walls, showing the glittering sweep of the harbor beneath a waxing moon. The city lights were so bright she could almost taste the colors like berries on her tongue.

'Hi. Come on in.' Macmillan walked into the room, casual in an oversized, V-necked red sweater. It showed off the strong muscles in his neck and shoulders.

'Nice view,' she said, doing her best to mean the skyline and not the man. This place is full of good scenery.

Macmillan smiled. 'Down there is your neighborhood.' He pointed, and she leaned into him to follow the line of his finger. 'And just along the horizon—yes, there—you can see the lights of Port Angeles.'

His hand moved to her shoulder and he turned her to see the blur of tiny sparkles wavering on the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Holly could feel the line of heat where his body nearly brushed hers. Her eyes traveled from the window to Macmillan.

'Thank you for cooking dinner,' she said. 'I'm surprised, with the investigation, that you get a day off.'

Her words were light, but she'd been wondering a lot about that point. She'd have guessed Macmillan to be the workaholic type, and weren't homicide detectives supposed to be slaves to their jobs at times like this?

His face tensed. 'Actually, I was sick today. Nothing catching, I'm sure.'

She watched as the tips of his ears turned red. There was something he wasn't saying. 'Are you okay?'

He shrugged. 'Yeah, I was starting to feel better by the time I called you. I'll live. In fact, right now I feel great. Maybe the rest did me good.'

He was so close, Holly could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek, driving away all other thoughts. 'Well, I hope I can help you with whatever it is you need.'

He gave her a melting smile. 'I hope you can, too.'

Okay, he said he wanted to talk for personal reasons, but just how personal did he mean?

Alessandro clattered pots in the kitchen, breaking the moment. Holly took the opportunity to glance around the rest of the room. It was lived-in but tidy for a bachelor's place, old and new furniture blending in a comfortable sprawl. A litter of books and magazines showed a wide variety of interests, from mountain climbing to UFOs. There was a big, manly TV supporting framed photos of family, friends, and a grinning black Lab. One shot showed Macmillan receiving a police award. He looked good in uniform.

Alessandro entered with a tray of wineglasses, a cloud of delicious cooking smells wafting around him. Holly's mouth started to water. Alessandro, on the other hand, looked vaguely green. Vampires hated strong food odors.

Macmillan waved toward the couch and chairs. 'Dinner'll be another few minutes. Shall we sit?'

The detective clearly meant to sit next to Holly, but he was thwarted. With lazy grace Alessandro sprawled right where Macmillan was headed, taking up enough room with his long legs for three. He flung one arm along the back of the couch, the full sleeve of his pink shirt draped to advantage. As he looked up at the detective, eyes wide with innocence, a taunting smile played along his lips.

Macmillan and Holly politely took the side chairs, effectively separated. More amused now than anything, she crossed her legs, dangling one hooker shoe. 'Well, you two started the party without me. Where are we in the great information exchange?'

Alessandro laced his fingers over his stomach. 'I was about to begin discussing the mouse. It is, believe it or not, relevant to the murders. At least, that is my theory.'

Macmillan narrowed his eyes. 'All right, I'll bite. Mouse?'

Holly tilted her head, watching the two men. Macmillan didn't blink. The detective had guts. Few men dared to stand their ground with a vampire, much less Alessandro.

Alessandro gave a lazy wave with one hand, but he regarded the detective intently. 'What do you know about doorways to hell?'

She saw Macmillan's jaw clench with tension. 'I think there's one that leads to my desk at work.'

'We do not jest.'

'Hell, huh?' Macmillan gave a short laugh. 'What, I'm going to be arresting the devil next?'

'No, no, it's not really hell in the usual sense,' said Holly. 'Not fire and brimstone per se. It's called the Castle. It's a prison built for demons.'

'Then it's a jail. You're not talking literal hell?'

Holly opened her mouth to reply, but Alessandro broke in. 'Eternity imprisoned without hope or future. Do you have a better name?'

Mac shrugged. 'Okay, fine. What's hell—or prison, or the Castle, or whatever—got to do with a mouse?'

Holly and Alessandro looked at each other, then took turns describing the portal in Holly's house. After that, Alessandro filled in more details about the portal that had opened up behind Sinsation. It was the first time Holly had heard the whole account of that night.

'Y'know,' Mac said incredulously, 'I've worked in this town for years. Sure, there's some supernatural crime, but this stuff is outside the box.'

When he spoke, his strong-boned face was mobile and young. When he was still it fell into the lines of a mature man, tired and a bit hard. His eyes reminded Holly of a surgeon she knew, that same look of someone who had seen the insides of too many people.

As a cop, perhaps he had.

'So how do portals work?' he asked. 'How do the prisoners break out?'

Holly replied, because, between spellcasting and figuring out what to wear, she'd been thumbing through a