Insatiable

Like a pool. Yes. A hotel pool. But in the air. That makes no sense…. Maybe…on a roof. Are

you staying in a hotel with an enclosed rooftop pool?”

Alaric’s thumb froze as he was about to hit Send.

“Because that’s where he’s going to find you,” she said. Was she actually seeing this

vision, behind her closed eyelids? “Do you like to swim or something?”

Alaric stared down at her. “How in the hell would you know that?” he demanded before

he could stop himself.

It took a lot to spook Alaric Wulf.

And that included the creepy way those chupacabras had lifted their heads from the

sheep they’d been gorging on when he’d accidentally stepped on a twig while approaching

them.

And the way the sheep’s blood had dripped from their pointy little teeth as they’d cocked

their heads at him questioningly.

She wasn’t crying anymore.

“I just know things,” she said with a shrug. “Believe me, I never asked for this…gift.

And if I could, I’d give it back in a second. Do you think I like knowing my boyfriend is going

to reach down into the water and grab you by your hair while you’re swimming laps tomorrow,

then lift you out of the water and gouge out your—”

“He’s not,” Alaric said quickly, putting his cell phone away and coming back toward the

couch to sit down beside her. “He’s not. Because now that you’ve told me this, that changes

everything. Right? Is that how it works?”

Alaric Wulf wasn’t a praying man.

But he was spooked. He was genuinely spooked.

And he was praying that was how it worked.

Because just as he knew he had made a believer out of her about the vampires, she had

made a believer out of him about her powers.

“Your warning me that he’s going to be there, that will cause me to change my plans,”

he said. “Doesn’t it work that way? Now I’ll be looking out for him. Maybe I won’t even go

swimming.”

Alaric’s heart was beating quickly.

And it took a lot these days to get his pulse jumping.

But the image she’d described of the prince of darkness grabbing him by the hair from

the water and gouging something out while he was innocently swimming his laps at the

Peninsula?

That had done it, all right.

Because there was no way this girl could have known that was where he was staying.

So she couldn’t possibly have been making this up.

“Look again,” he said to her. He was still speaking gently, because there was something

about Meena Harper’s body language—the way she’d curled in on herself ever since he’d

shown her that bite mark on her thigh—that told him that she was a little bit broken and needed

careful handling if she was going to heal.

But it was difficult for him to keep the urgency from his tone.

“What do you see?” he asked. He reached for a blanket on the end of the couch and

wrapped it around her slender shoulders. “When you look now?”

Meena shook her head. “It’s no good,” she said. “He’s still going to kill you both.”

“Why me?” the brother whined. “What’d I do?”

“But where?” Alaric asked, ignoring Jon. “Where now?”

Meena was still going on. “Not the pool…Somewhere dark. But …something is on fire.”

Her eyelids flew open, and she stared at Alaric accusingly. Her voice had some of its old

asperity back. “You can’t blame him. He’s only trying to defend himself. You tried to kill him

first. You’re the one who started it.”

“ Me? ” Alaric jabbed a thumb at himself. “Oh, right, I’m the prince of darkness, anointer

of all that is unholy, guardian of the infernal. Right. It’s my fault.”

“He didn’t pick who his father is,” Meena said hotly, “any more than you did.”

Alaric reflected briefly to himself that it would have been nice to know who his own

father was, if only so he could give the old man a well-deserved kick in the pants for deserting

him.

“Meena,” Jon said. “Don’t you think you should just tell us where he is, so we can kill

him before he finds and kills us? That’s the way they always do it in the movies. They kill

Dracula in his coffin during the day while he’s defenseless sleeping.”

“Vampires don’t actually do the coffin thing,” Alaric remarked.

“Really?” Jon looked stunned. “But—”

“Stoker just added that to amp up the drama,” Alaric said. “Or who knows. Maybe

Dracula told him it was true as some kind of sick joke. The guy was pretty twisted. It would

make it a lot easier if it were true.”

“You.” Meena glared at Alaric. “You’ve delivered your horrible news. Okay. My

boyfriend’s the son of Dracula. Thanks. You can go now.”

“Uh,” Alaric said, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’ve got a job to do. Slay the dragon and all

of that. I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Oh,” Meena said, nodding. “Like your little medal.”

“Right,” he said with a wink. “Just like St. George.”

“I see the resemblance,” Meena said sarcastically. “Well, good luck with all of that. Now

get out of my home before I call the police.”

Alaric looked around the room. Then, spying the telephone sitting on a small table at the

end of the couch, he lifted the receiver from its cradle, dropped it on the floor, then stomped on

it with one of his massive steel-toed boots.

When he lifted his foot, the receiver lay in many individual parts beneath it.

Meena’s eyes widened to their limits.

“I believe your cell is out of order as well,” Alaric said, looking pointedly at the bits and

pieces of her BlackBerry on the floor.

“You can’t hold me a prisoner in my own home,” Meena said…with considerable spirit,

he felt, for one who had so recently served as a human blood bank for the son of the dark lord.

“If you want me to go,” Alaric said politely, “I’ll be more than happy to. Just tell me

where I can find Lucien Antonescu, and I’ll leave. And as an added bonus, you’ll never have to

see me again.”

“But you’ll give me your e-mail, right?” Jon asked Alaric. “Because I’m serious about

trying out for this Palatine thing. I know about the hiring freeze, but I think I’d be awesome

at—”

“Oh, never mind,” Meena said, interrupting. “You’re both giving me a headache. Go

ahead, stay. Stay all night, for all I care. I’m going to bed.”

And with that, she turned and stomped barefoot down the hall, the blanket trailing

behind her. She slammed her bedroom door, directly in the face of Jack Bauer, who’d trotted

after her.

“There’s no phone in that room, is there?” Alaric asked the brother.

“Of course there is,” Jon replied.

Moving with lightning speed, Alaric leapt across the coffee table and the debris littering

the foyer, then flung open the door to Meena’s tastefully decorated—Pottery Barn this time,

Alaric had time to observe critically—bedroom just as she was lifting the phone to dial. He

snatched the receiver from her hand with a stern, “Tsk tsk tsk. What did we say about using the

phone?”

“I wasn’t calling Lucien,” Meena said. “I’m not stupid. I don’t want to get you two

killed. I was calling my friend Leisha. I need to talk to someone who isn’t male.”

But Alaric was already walking over to the French doors that led to a small balcony and

throwing them open. The night air had become much cooler than it had been when he’d

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