Insatiable

him to go to the doctor, eventually.

It was just too bad, really, that the one person whose future Meena had never been able

to see was her own.

Until now, anyway.

If she was much later to work, she was going to lose any chance whatsoever she had at

convincing Sy to take her pitch seriously.

And forget about that promotion to head writer.

She didn’t need to be psychic to figure that out.

Chapter Five

7:00 P.M. EET, Tuesday, April 13

The hills outside of Sighioara

Mures County, Romania

L ucien Antonescu was furious, and when he was furious, he sometimes lost control.

He’d frightened that young girl in his office nearly to death, and he hadn’t wanted to do

that. He’d felt her fear…it had been sharp and as tightly wound as a garrote. She was a good

person, longing, like most girls her age, only for love.

And he’d terrified her.

But he didn’t have time to worry about that now. Now he had a very serious situation

that was going to require all of his attention for the immediate future.

And so he was doing what he could in an attempt to calm himself. His favorite classical

piece—by Tchaikovsky—played over the hall’s speakers (which he’d purchased and had

shipped from the U.S. at enormous expense; quality sound was important).

And he’d opened one of the truly exquisite bottles of Bordeaux in his collection and was

letting it breathe on the sideboard. He could smell the tannins even from halfway across the

room. The scent was soothing….

Still, he couldn’t help pacing the length of the great hall, an enormous fire roaring in the

stone hearth at one end of the room and the stuffed heads of various animals his ancestors had

killed leering down at him from the walls above.

“Three,” he growled at the laptop sitting on the long, elaborately carved wooden table in

the center of the room. “Three dead girls? All within the past few weeks? Why wasn’t I told

this before now?”

“I didn’t realize that there was a connection between them, my lord,” the slightly anxious

voice from the computer’s speakers said in English.

“Three exsanguinated corpses, all left nude in various city parks?” Lucien didn’t attempt

to keep the sarcasm from his tone. “Covered in bite marks? And you didn’t realize there was a

connection. I see.”

“Obviously the authorities don’t want to start a citywide panic,” the voice said fretfully.

“My sources didn’t know anything about the bite marks until this morning….”

“And what attempts,” Lucien asked, ignoring this last remark, “have been made to

discover who is committing these atrocities?”

“Everyone I’ve spoken to denies any knowledge whatsoev—”

Lucien cut him off. “Then obviously you’re not speaking to the appropriate people. Or

someone is lying.”

“I…I can’t imagine anyone would dare,” the voice said hesitantly. “They know I’m

speaking on your authority, sire. I feel…if I may, sire…that it isn’t…well, one of us. Someone

we know.”

Lucien paused in his circuit around the room.

“That’s impossible,” he said flatly. “There’s no one we don’t know.”

He turned and approached the wine decanter, which was filled with rich ruby liquid. He

could see the reflection of the firelight against one side of the perfect crystal globe.

“It’s one of us,” Lucien said, inhaling the earthy fragrance of the Bordeaux. “Someone

who has forgotten himself. And his vows.”

“Surely not,” the voice said nervously. “No one would dare. Everyone knows the

repercussions of committing such a crime under your rule. That your retribution will be

swift…and severe.”

“Nevertheless.” Lucien picked up the decanter and watched as the liquid inside left a

deep red film against the far side of the crystal bulb. “Someone’s savagely killing human

women and leaving their bodies out in the open to be discovered.”

“He is putting all of us at risk,” the voice from the laptop agreed hesitantly.

“Yes,” Lucien said. “Needlessly so. He must be discovered, punished, and stopped.

Permanently.”

“Yes, my lord,” the voice said. “Only…how? How are we to discover him? The

police…my informants tell me that the police haven’t a single lead.”

Lucien’s perfectly formed lips curved into a bitter smile. “The police,” he said. “Ah, yes.

The police.” He glanced away from the decanter he held, toward the face on the computer

screen a few yards away. “Emil, find me a place to stay. I’m coming to town.”

“Sire?” Emil looked startled. “ You? Are you certain? Surely that won’t be—”

“I’m certain. I will find our murdering friend. And then…”

Lucien opened his fingers and let the decanter fall to the flagstones beneath his feet. The

crystal bell smashed into a thousand pieces, the wine it contained making a deep red smear

across the floor, where, centuries before, Lucien had watched his father dash the brains of so

many of their servants.

“I will show him myself what happens when anyone dares to break a vow to me.”

Chapter Six

10:30 A.M. EST, Tuesday, April 13

ABN Building

520 Madison Avenue

New York, New York

M eena was wolfing down her bagel when Paul, one of the breakdown writers, poked his

balding head into her office.

“I don’t have time to help you update your Facebook page right now, Paul,” Meena said.

“I’ve only got a minute before I have to meet with Sy.”

“I take it you didn’t hear, then,” Paul said morosely.

“Hear what?” Meena asked with her mouth full.

“About Shoshona.”

Meena’s blood went cold.

So it had finally happened. And it was all her fault for not saying anything.

But how did you warn someone that her advanced state of gymorexia was going to kill

her? Treadmills were not widely known to be fatal, and Shoshona was so proud to have gotten

down to size 00.

The truth was, Shoshona had never been one of Meena’s favorite people.

“She… died ?”

“No.” Paul looked at Meena strangely. “She got the head writer position. I guess it

happened last night.”

Meena choked.

“Wh-what?” She blinked back tears. She told herself they were tears from a chunk of

bagel going down the wrong tube.

But they weren’t.

“Didn’t you see the e-mail?” Paul asked. “They sent it around this morning.”

“No,” Meena croaked. “I was on the subway.”

“Oh,” Paul said. “Well, I’m updating my résumé. I figure she’ll be firing me soon

anyway so she can hire one of her club-hopping friends. Would you mind looking it over

later?”

“Sure,” Meena said numbly.

But she was only half listening to him. They’d passed her over for Shoshona ? After all

the hard work she’d done this year? Much of it Shoshona’s work, because Shoshona was

forever leaving the office early to go work out?

No. Just no.

Meena was standing in the door to Sy’s office exactly two minutes before their