Meg Cabot - Insatiable

Of course, the Palatine was no longer an organization that merely hunted its prey on foot, satisfied with an old-fashioned stake to the heart, and then left it at that.

Oh, no. Not anymore.

They now used sophisticated technology to track their quarry’s financial and real estate assets as well, monitoring bank accounts even in countries that criminalized the violation of their banking privacy laws, such as Switzerland and the Cayman Islands. If the Palatine could not snare the monster, they would find ways to seize his money. And they did so with a ruthlessness that would make the CIA green with envy…were the Palatine not such a highly secretive organization that even the CIA knew nothing of its existence.

The money, more than anything, was an issue. Starting over without any money would have been fine, had it just been himself.

But he couldn’t ask it of Meena. That would be impossible.

And he wasn’t going anywhere without Meena…despite her insistence that they no longer see each other.

She would never be safe now. Every vampire in the world would want a taste of her. Any chance to be able to experience what Lucien had-the ability to foretell the death of a human, and not by vampiric hands-would be irresistible to them. It wouldn’t be irresistible for the same reasons it was to Lucien…it allowed him in some small way to make up for the sins of his past-such as when he’d taken away that boy’s car keys, saving his own life-or even because it was just something, anything different after centuries of sameness.

But because it was something they might be able to use to their own advantage. Lucien had no doubt that his brother Dimitri would find a way to use Meena’s gift of prophecy to prey on the human race’s very real fear of mortality, and somehow profit financially from it.

Then there was the fact that Meena’s blood coursing through Lucien’s veins hadn’t just afforded him the ability to predict how humans were going to die. It had heightened his other senses as well, in a way no other human’s he’d tasted ever had, making him feel for the first time in centuries as if he were alive again.

He knew this was something he could never share with anyone. Because if this got out, Meena Harper would become demon meat…the most hunted mortal on earth.

The fact that Meena was his might have been protection enough under ordinary circumstances. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. The Palatine had their hands on her…and had found him out. How could he protect her properly? He couldn’t even find her, let alone get in touch with her. His frantic phone calls to her had all gone straight to voice mail. Her apartment, according to Emil, whom Lucien had ordered to stay put until Meena’s whereabouts could be traced, was empty, except for her little dog. It didn’t, Emil had reported, look like anyone-anyone human, anyway-had been there all day. Had they abandoned the place? Surely not. Lucien would know, would sense it if something had happened to her…

But he sensed nothing…nothing except dread and a tightness in his chest where his heart had once been. He hadn’t felt anything in that spot in centuries. Not since Meena Harper had come into his life.

Then he received the call from Emil that changed everything:

A weeping and repentant Mary Lou, intent on trying to rectify her wrong and give help where she could, had seen a gossip piece while surfing the Internet that an altercation had taken place at a midtown eatery involving a man with a sword…

…and a certain popular soap opera star’s best friend.

This, surely, could only have been Meena’s Palatine guard.

And Dimitri’s son, Stefan.

There was no other explanation.

Lucien had only had to hear the name Dimitri and he was in one of Emil’s black cars, headed downtown for his brother’s club. If he discovered that his brother had anything, anything at all, to do with Meena’s disappearance…if he or that idiot son of his had harmed so much as a hair on her head-

There wasn’t a hole on earth deep enough into which Lucien could throw them.

But when Lucien got to Concubine, it was closed.

Not that this particularly bothered Lucien. Given his mood, he merely kicked the doors in.

The club was quite a different place empty than when it was occupied. With all the lights on, and no dry ice, it lost something of its mystique. The only shine to the large room, surrounded by black velvet curtains, was the metallic top to the long bar. The place wasn’t as clean as it could have been; the floor was a bit sticky.

Perhaps the cleaners hadn’t yet arrived. There was no one around.

And yet Lucien, his senses heightened because of Meena, felt that there were quite a few souls around-human, and in the gravest of danger…

…and not just because of him.

“Hello?” he called. Where were all these people? Why couldn’t he see them?

His voice echoed hauntingly around the dance floor, the bar, the VIP room. No one.

Nothing.

Where was his brother? Why had he felt such a powerful pull to this distasteful place if the certain source of all his problems-Dimitri-wasn’t even here?

Then Lucien heard it. Heavy footsteps, coming from the front of the building. He turned expectantly.

“Can I help you?”

It was Reginald, Dimitri’s three-hundred-pound bodyguard/ bouncer, still wearing his gold chain with his name emblazoned proudly across it. His dark head gleamed, newly shaved.

“Hello there, Reginald,” Lucien said, genuinely pleased to see him. This was going to be easy. Some humans-like Meena, for instance-were impossible to control, their minds too damaged or crowded with mental baggage. But Reginald’s was a vast, open plain.

“How did you get in here?” Reginald had a Hollywood-gangster-style grip on his gun, raising it sideways to shoot at Lucien instead of straight on, using his other hand to steady it for better aim.

Lucien felt even more cheered. Poor Reginald.

“Put the gun down, son,” he said. “You remember me. I was here the other night, to visit my brother.”

Reginald lowered the gun obediently. “Oh, yeah,” he said, recognition dawning. “You messed Mr. Dimitri up.”

“That’s right,” Lucien said, smiling fondly at the memory. “I’ve come back to do it again. You wouldn’t happen to know where Mr. Dimitri is right now, would you?”

Reginald shook his head, putting the gun back into the waistband of his sweatpants…not the most propitious place to keep a loaded firearm, in Lucien’s opinion. “Naw,” Reginald said. “Everybody got all excited about something and took off a little while ago and just left me here. They didn’t say when they’d be back or nothing. I don’t even know if I’m supposed to open up tonight or what.”

“Interesting,” Lucien said. “And would you happen to know what it was they got ‘all excited about,’ Reginald?”

“Hell, no,” Reginald said. “No one tells me nothing around here.” Lucien reached into the man’s brain with his own mind and probed gently. Reginald was telling the truth. He knew nothing…except…

“Reginald,” Lucien said. “Are we the only people here?”

“No,” Reginald admitted. Lucien could feel the man’s fear. It was as sharp and as pointed as a knife. “There’s the folks in the basement.”

“The basement,” Lucien repeated. “Would you take me to the basement, Reginald?”

Reginald’s fear stabbed him. “Mr. Dimitri said none of us is supposed to go down there,” Reginald protested. He did not want to go down to the basement.

“It’s all right, Reginald,” Lucien said calmly. “I’ll be with you. Nothing bad will happen to you in the basement if I’m there with you.”

Reginald believed him…but only because Lucien was there in his brain to comfort him. Reluctantly, he went to the bar to get the keys to the basement, then led Lucien to a door that he unlocked with hands that still shook, despite Lucien’s presence.