“Daniel Hunter is the man who’s missing. An eyewitness places him at a local nightclub.”
“We’ve quite a few of those in the surrounding area, as well.”
“Yes, but this particular club, according to my sources, is owned and run by vampires.”
Donlon lifted his eyes, looking over her shoulder at his lieutenant, Nicholas. The exchange was silent, but it told her he hadn’t expected that particular piece of evidence.
“A blood house,” he said, returning his gaze to her.
Kathryn blinked at him. “I’m sorry?”
He smiled briefly and repeated, “A blood house. The club you’re referring to is called a blood house. That’s not its name, but that’s what it is. It’s where humans go to . . . mingle with vampires.”
“Mingle,” Kathryn said softly. “You mean—”
“Many humans are fascinated by the vampire . . . culture, shall we say. They go to blood houses to flirt with what they see as the darker side of humanity. And they give blood, of course.”
Kathryn frowned. “Give blood. You mean from their own veins?”
Donlon laughed. “Don’t look so shocked, Kathryn. It’s a very pleasurable experience for all involved.”
“Are you telling me people go to these places and let vampires bite them?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“But that’s . . .” She was about to say revolting, but thought better of it given current company.
Donlon grinned as if he knew anyway. “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. And you will,” he added with a slow, smoldering look.
Kathryn felt her lips pinch with irritation and forced her face to resume a bland expression. He had a way of goading her completely out of her comfort zone.
“In any event,” she said briskly, “while I can’t imagine Daniel enjoying something like that, he always has been an adventurer, so it’s possible he—”
“Daniel?” Donlon said, catching her slip. “So, the last name isn’t merely a coincidence. A husband? Brother? It’s unlikely that he’s old enough to be your father.”
“How do you know how old he is?” she demanded at once.
Donlon shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t. But I can certainly guess at how old you are, and extrapolate how old your father would have to be. My manager at that club is very careful about whom he lets in. And a man old enough to be your father would never pass muster. Too dangerous.”
“Dangerous for whom?”
“The older man, love. As I said, having a vampire drink from you is very enjoyable. Not everyone’s heart can handle it.”
“Lovely,” she muttered.
“Indeed,” he agreed, not at all put off. “But as to your missing . . .”
“Brother,” she supplied. There was little point in trying to conceal it. Sutcliffe knew, and she suspected Donlon knew, too. Despite his little games, she found it unlikely the efficient Magda would have let her get this far without checking out every aspect of her purpose in being here.
“Your missing brother, yes. I don’t often visit the blood houses, but the vampires on my staff do frequent that particular one, among others. If you have a photograph of your brother, I’d be happy to show it around and ask if anyone saw anything.”
“I’d rather check it out myself,” Kathryn countered. “If I could have your club manager’s name and those of any vampires who visit the club regularly . . .” She took out her notepad and pen, prepared to write names.
Donlon didn’t move except to give her a lazy blink of his eyes. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Kathryn. My people rely on me to protect them, and I take that responsibility very seriously. It was not so long ago that your people were hunting mine down and slaughtering them for no reason. As I said, I’m more than happy to show your brother’s photograph around, but that’s all you’ll get.”
“What I’ll get,” she said sharply, “is a judge’s order requiring your people to submit to questioning.”“Will you?” Lucas came to his feet so fast, she didn’t see him move, and she shot up defensively.
Donlon’s expression was no longer lazy, his voice no longer teasing. “Go ahead, Special Agent Hunter. Get your warrant. Oh, but wait, you can’t, can you? Because you’re not here in an official capacity. In fact, I suspect your supervisors told you to leave this alone, but here you are anyway.”
Kathryn gave a mental shrug. So he knew she was off the reservation on this one. Powerful men always had ways of finding out things, and she didn’t make the mistake of thinking Donlon was any less powerful just because he was a vampire. If anything, it was likely to make him more powerful. He could bring to bear not just economic and business pressure, but that visceral fear of the unknown as well. She had hoped to milk her FBI connection a bit longer, but . . . she sighed inwardly. It looked as if she’d have to play nice with this incredibly handsome bastard, after all.
She met Donlon’s cool gaze evenly and gave an easy shrug. “It was worth a shot,” she said, sitting down again. “Yes, I’m on my own for this one, and, yes, my superiors would rather I leave it alone. But I suspect their reluctance stems in large part from a desire not to piss you off. I don’t really care about pissing you off. I just want my brother back, and I think you or your people know something about what happened to him.”
“Just because he went to a vampire bar?” Donlon slouched back comfortably into his big chair. Did the man ever sit up straight? “There are many bars in South Dakota,” he continued. “And very few of them are owned by vampires.”
“Yes, but I have a witness who saw him leaving your bar with someone they say is a vampire. And that’s the last time anyone saw my brother.”
“Who’s the witness, and what’s the vampire’s name?”
“I won’t tell you that,” Kathryn said instantly. The last thing she wanted was to have Donlon discover that her only witness was in Afghanistan. “But he’s been to the club before, and he’s certain the man leaving with my brother is a vampire.”
“How can he be sure?”
“Because—” Kathryn looked away from the vampire’s too perceptive gaze, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment. “—he claims to have been with the vampire in question. I assumed he meant sex, but now that you’ve explained . . . what you’ve explained . . .”
She chanced a glance at Donlon and found him watching her with blatant amusement.
“It’s usually the same thing, Kathryn,” Donlon said, clearly enjoying the moment. “Taking blood from the vein is a very sensuous experience. Sex usually follows. Or precedes. Or sometimes even both,” he added with a teasing grin.
Kathryn bit her already sore tongue, using the pain to center herself. She was not here for Lucas Asshole Donlon’s amusement.
“You don’t know me, Lord Donlon,” she said tightly. “Oh, I’m sure you know the basics, maybe even more than that. But you don’t know me. I love my brother, and I will move heaven and earth to find him. I will be the thorn in your side, the stone under your foot. I will make fucking with your existence my damn mission in life until I find out what happened to him.”
“And if he’s dead?”
The air left Kathryn’s lungs. She hadn’t dared to ask herself that question. Hadn’t dared to even consider the possibility. She forced herself to meet Donlon’s curious stare.
“If he’s dead,” she said in a thin voice she didn’t recognize. “Then I want to take him home.”
Donlon’s gaze softened with something close to pity. But she didn’t want his pity. She drew a deep breath and stiffened her spine.
“The vampire you’re looking for,” he said. “He’s not one of mine.”
“How do you know?” she demanded.
He leaned forward, golden eyes glittering. “Because I’ve asked my people,” he said in a hard voice, “and I trust them. What’s the vampire’s name?”
Kathryn thought about not telling him, but decided he couldn’t help her if he didn’t know whom to look for. And if he wasn’t willing to help her, it wouldn’t matter anyway.
“Alex,” she said. “The witness didn’t know a last name.”
Donlon frowned. “There is no Alex among my vampires, not locally.” He glanced briefly at Nicholas, and Kathryn would have sworn there was some communication going on there. She also noticed that he’d said not locally. Did that mean there was an Alex somewhere else, and they suspected he’d moved into the area? Or that this Alex visited on occasion? She drew a breath to ask him, but he turned his attention back to her, and she waited to see what his next move would be.
His scowl was still in place, but then, suddenly, as if a curtain had been drawn, everything about him changed. The sardonic gleam was back in his eyes and his mouth quirked into a cynical half-grin as he winked at her. “Tell you what, Kathryn. Come back Friday evening, and we’ll take a tour of the club. You can ask around yourself.”
Kathryn studied him distrustfully. “But today’s only Wednesday, Why do we have to wait so long?”
“Because the club isn’t open,” he explained slowly, as if she should have known that. “Friday through Sunday only.”
Shit! Kathryn thought to herself. Possibly her best lead, and she had to sit on her hands for two more days?
“What if they won’t talk to me? I mean the vampires and whoever else is at the club.”
“Trust me, they’ll talk to you,” he said silkily. “But I’ll do even better, since I’m certain you’d rather not postpone your investigation while you wait. I’ll make some inquiries here and elsewhere. Come back tomorrow night, and perhaps I’ll have something for you.”