The sound of the door opening caught his attention and interrupted what was sure to be an awkward exit. Miranda cleared her throat and went back to that strictly business attitude that she wore when he first arrived.
A young guy, probably no more than twenty-two, stood there holding the door open. He pushed his glasses up with his free hand and glanced nervously between the two.
“What is it, Henry?” Miranda asked with mild irritation.
“Sorry to interrupt you, Dr. Kelly, but you asked me to come and get you at five fifteen because you always forget what time it is and don’t remember to eat.”
He let out a short, nervous laugh and pushed his glasses back up his nose.
“Of course,” Miranda said with less bite than before. “Thank you, Henry.”
“Um, you also said that you would be willing to have a look at my thesis over coffee.” He flicked a glance to Doug, who was doing his best not to laugh at the poor kid. “Would—would that still be a possibility?”
“Absolutely. Why don’t you grab a table in the cafeteria, and I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Kelly.” The kid tripped and stumbled out the door.
“Looks like you’ve got a groupie.” Doug gave Miranda a sidelong glance. “I never met a medical examiner who had a fan club.”
“He’s one of my best interns, but I kind of like
“I’d appreciate that.” Doug opened the door for her and took one last look at Ronald’s body. This case was getting stranger by the minute, and instead of answers, all he had was more questions.
They walked down the sterile hallway in another awkward silence. Doug squinted against the glare of the fluorescent lighting. As he turned the corner, the familiar squeak of a door swinging open caught his attention, and he glanced back, expecting to see someone, but to his surprise, the hallway was empty. He stopped as a tickle of awareness tripped up his spine and kept his eyes on the door to the autopsy room.
“Paxton,” Miranda called to him from the waiting elevator. “Ronald isn’t going anywhere, and I need coffee, so come on.”
“Coming.” Doug went to the elevator but glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t escape the sense that someone was back there. As the elevator doors closed, one image filled his mind—Olivia.
Olivia stood inside the doors of the autopsy room and waited. She glanced at the wall of stainless steel refrigerated compartments, knowing she could take refuge in one, if necessary, and slip into the tunnels. She managed to get in without Doug seeing her, but she could still hear his heartbeat at the other end of the hallway, and it took major willpower not to get closer. She closed her eyes and forced herself not to move, not to fly down that hallway and sink her fangs into the tender flesh just below the jaw.
Her fangs emerged, and her head buzzed with need. His heartbeat, strong, steady, and surprisingly distinct, called to her, but a few moments later, it faded and finally vanished.
Olivia let out a sound of relief and sheathed her fangs.
She picked up his phone call when she was flying over from the club and answered as soon as her feet hit the roof. She recognized the number from his business card, and since curiosity got the better of her, she answered, even though it was against her better judgment. Olivia sat on that roof talking on the phone with him like some silly teenager. She could tell within five seconds that he used the question about Maya as an excuse to call. He wanted her. There was no mistaking it, but getting involved with a human was less than smart—especially one who happened to look exactly like, and quite possibly could be, her long-dead true love reincarnated.
She felt his presence as he moved along the sidewalk far below, and she resisted the urge to fly down there and talk to him in person. Her sense of duty and the looming mess with Ronald’s murder drowned out her raging hormones, and she held back. Although, she did peer over the side of the building to get a peek and found him as desirable from six stories above as he was from six inches away.
It would not have been the end of the world if he saw her as she slipped down the hallway and into the room. She could glamour him and the medical examiner, easily erasing any memory, but she didn’t want to do that.
Well, at least, not to him. The doctor was another story entirely. Olivia went to Ronald’s body and tried not to think about drinking that doctor dry. The woman was intensely attracted to Doug because the room was full of the distinct scent of female arousal. Jealousy reared its ugly head again, but Olivia shook it off. No time for bullshit.
She sensed the sun starting its slow ascent, and if she didn’t hustle, then she would have to take the tunnels all the way to the Presidium’s New York offices. No sane woman, living or undead, would want to wear an Armani suit into the tunnels that led to the Presidium’s underground network. She wrinkled her nose at the thought.
Olivia snagged two glass specimen tubes from her pocket, removed the long swabs, and ran them along two of the wounds, first from the neck, and then from the wounds on his arm. She shook her head and cursed. This was most definitely a vamp killing and a vicious one at that. It was sloppy and savage, which gave it the clear markings of a youngling attack.
Someone turned a new vampire, let him or her loose with no training, and didn’t bother to clean up the mess. Great.
After securing her samples, she snagged the travel-size bottle of bleach from her other pocket and squirted it over the wounds, removing traces of vampire DNA. She smirked as she capped the bottle, knowing what a shit storm this would bring on for the doctor. It was petty to take satisfaction in a human woman’s discomfort, but she really didn’t care.
Olivia went to the computer, noticed the doctor had neglected to log out, and deleted all of the files related to Ronald’s case. She grabbed the folder that the doctor had shown Pete and slipped it beneath her jacket.
Olivia tucked the samples in her pocket and listened at the door. Satisfied the coast was clear, she made her way swiftly and silently down the hallway to the stairwell, up the cement staircase, and seconds later arrived at the door of the roof. Even if someone glanced through one of the windows on the doors, they would not have seen her. The surveillance cameras were more of a nuisance, but as long as she moved swiftly, all they would pick up was a blur.
Most people would see the anomaly and brush it off as the light playing tricks. Humans were quick to dismiss anything outside the norm, and those who didn’t would post their videos on YouTube as proof of the existence of ghosts.
The sun was starting to crest. Even if she really hustled, she would never make it back to the Presidium’s offices without getting toasted.
She missed watching the sunrise and basking in the warmth of it on her face, however, not enough to take a chance of turning to ash. Olivia strode across the roof and glanced at the empty alley six floors below as a grin cracked her face. An eternity of darkness sucked, but the ability to do Superman-type stunts was pretty freaking cool and balanced out the whole no-daylight thing.
Olivia took off her shoes. While
As she slipped her shoes back on, the growing noises of the city streets washed over her, and moments later, a distinctly familiar sound snaked into her mind, surrounding her.
Something strong, steady, and enticing.
It was
Doug’s heartbeat thundered through her mind, drowning out the rest of the sounds, and captured her full attention. She heard heartbeats of the humans in the surrounding area and had grown so accustomed that over the years it had become white noise.
Not Doug’s. His rose above the din, clamoring to be heard.
Why was his heartbeat so clear and enthralling? It called to her like a siren song, willing her closer and taunting her. Confused and aroused, she struggled to keep her fangs at bay. In all her three hundred years, she’d
