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"How was your trip to Mrs. Judkins, Cyn?"
Cynthia suddenly remembered why she was supposed to be pissed at the vampire. Her
boots in one hand, she stormed out of the closet. That was a dirty trick, Raphael. You could
have warned me "
He shot off the bed faster than her eyes could follow, suddenly right in front of her, his
eyes sleepy with lust, his voice so deep she could feel the vibration in her chest. Was there a
problem at the Judkins, Cyn? His fingers slipped easily into the open waistband of her jeans,
sliding beneath the fabric to caress her bare hip, his thumb insinuating itself beneath the band
of her thong. It was such an intimate gesture, her breath caught in her throat as she looked up
and met his black eyes. No, not black. Not now. They gleamed silver in the dim light.
"Yes, she whispered. I mean, no. It ... it surprised me, that's all, she managed to say.
He lowered his head and ran his lips along her jaw, nuzzling first her ear, then her neck.
The line of their bodies never touched, only his fingers stroking the smooth, naked skin of her
hip. His lips touched hers gently, nudging her mouth open, his tongue circling, tasting her.
Cynthia responded. How could she not? Every nerve in her body was tingling with desire,
her breasts begging to be touched, her mouth welcoming him even as she fought to keep
from pressing herself against his hard body.
"So little time, sweet Cyn, he whispered, then stepped back.
Cynthia gasped as he moved away. She wanted to curse him, to scream at him to ...
what? Christ, she wanted him to take her, to throw her on the big bed and fuck her brains out.
She knew what he'd feel like between her legs, forcing that thick shaft deep into her and driv-
ing it in and out...?
Pull yourself together, Cyn!
"Right, she managed. Okay... She looked down at the bare skin still visible beneath her
unzipped denims and wondered if she'd find a handprint seared into her skin where his fin-
gers had held her. She shook her head and went to zip up, but discovered she was still hold-
ing the boots. Dropping them to the floor, she zipped quickly and sat down to pull them on.
Raphael was back on the bed, sitting there watching her as if he'd never moved. Son of a
bitch.
"Okay, she said. Kolinsky."
"Kolinsky, Raphael agreed.
"He's Russian Mafia, fairly high up. That's all I could find out on that score, but I'll check
my office here before we leave. My guy was going to fax a picture over. I've got another friend
who might be able to tell me more, but she's on assignment and I have to wait for her to call
me. There's no way of knowing when that will be, which is why I want to check out this ware-
house myself. Whoever's making this move on you won't wait forever."
"Certainly not. In fact, I would expect to hear from them very soon."
She spun around to look at him. Why?"
"I'm in the midst of some ... delicate negotiations. I begin to think these events are re-
lated."
"Why?"
Raphael studied her carefully, then gave a barely discernible nod, as if deciding to trust
her. You say this Kolinsky is Russian. Let us just say, my current business also has a Russi-
an connection."
"Makes sense."
"Unfortunately."
Cynthia stood, stomping her feet firmly into the boots. You ready to rock and roll?"
Raphael rolled gracefully off the bed and to his feet. Slowly enough for her to watch him
this time. Which she did. Anyway you looked at it, moving or standing still, he was total eye
candy. Juro has arrived with the SUV."
"I'll drive my own car, she insisted.
"Two cars, then. I'll ride with you."
Cyn snorted. She and Raphael alone in her truck on a dark night. They'd be lucky if they
made it out of the driveway with their clothes on.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twenty-seven
Cyn adjusted the angle of her rear view mirror so she couldn't see the fierce scowl Duncan
was aiming at her from the backseat. She hadn't needed to worry about being alone with
Raphael after all. Duncan had insisted on going with them, as if it was she who posed a threat
to the vampire lord, rather than the other way around. Next to her in the front passenger seat,
Raphael sat tapping his fingers rhythmically on the padded leather of the door. Oh, for God's
sake, she thought. He was humming. The vampire lord was humming a cheerful, little tune.
He was happy. Cyn shook her head and focused on the directions the in-dash GPS was feed-
ing her. This was a part of L.A. she was not at all familiar with. It was heavily commercial,
mostly abandoned this time of night, with few streetlights and too many dark corners. She
made the final turn and drove slowly, looking for the address, noticing that very few of the
buildings had signs of any kind, much less a street number.
"There, Raphael said, pointing ahead to the left. Odessa Imports. He and Duncan ex-
changed a quick look, and Cynthia wondered what secrets the two of them were keeping from
her. Okay, probably thousands, but the only ones that concerned her were anything to do with
the mob hangout they were about to enter.
She pulled up to the curb outside and shut off the engine, noting the SUV with the other
two vamps coasting to a stop right behind her. I'll go in first. I'm harmless compared to you
two. I'll just "
"No, Raphael said flatly. We'll go in together."
"If the two of you walk through that door, the place will be empty in three minutes. You
guys don't exactly give off a friendly vibe."
"And you, Cyn, are far too tempting a target. A woman alone in a place like this? I think
not. Very well. The two of us, then."
"I will go with her, Master, if you will remain here with the others. It was a futile effort, and
Duncan knew it even as he spoke the words; she could hear it in his voice.
Raphael was already climbing out of the car, and Cyn hustled to follow before he stomped
through the door on his own and destroyed any chance of doing this peacefully. For that mat-
ter, she couldn't even be certain this was a criminal hangout. There were probably a half
dozen sweatshops within walking distance in this neighborhood. They could barge in and find
nothing more than a bunch of illegals putting together toys to go under the Christmas trees of
nice, middle-class homes all over America. She said as much to Raphael.
"You don't believe that, he said simply.
"No. She drew her gun, checked the full magazine, then reinserted it.
"Wait here with the others, Duncan, Raphael said without looking away from her. You will
know if I need you."
Duncan didn't even bother to argue. He drew a single resigned breath, then nodded. As
you wish, Sire."
Raphael turned long enough to give his lieutenant a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then
said, Who shall we be, Cyn? I don't suppose you still have your badge?"
Cynthia rolled her eyes. Great. Just great. You be the strong, silent muscle, she said,
checking the small of her back beneath her leather jacket, verifying the second gun tucked in-
to her waistband. I'll do the talking, okay?"
Raphael shrugged. For now, he agreed, suddenly deadly serious. He walked over and
pulled open the heavy door, letting a wan light spill into the street. Cynthia looked up at him
as she entered the building and shivered at the unmistakable predator lurking behind his dark
eyes.
* * * *
It was a small, dismal office with flickering overhead lights that would have driven Cyn in-
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