"Wait until Alexandra sees it. She'll want one too. We've already talked about how it would be better to be able to log on from any room. You know, because she's doing a lot of remodeling and that way we could actually be in the room we were working on."
"So you guys are getting along all right?"
"Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” Mirabelle lowered her voice as they entered the house. “I feel kind of bad moving in on her, but she really doesn't seem to mind. She's kind of lonely I think. She's been telling me all about her life and about Matias. That's the guy who died defending her. He sounds really sweet. He was a dancer, you know—"
"No, I didn't—"
"—in Europe, I don't know like a hundred years ago or something, maybe longer. Anyway, it's so romantic."
Cyn nodded in agreement and tuned out, glad that Mirabelle was settling in, and that Cyn was free to continue her search for the missing Elizabeth,
Chapter Thirty-one
Three nights went by. Nights spent driving up and down the dark streets of L.A., talking to runaway kids and shelter operators, visiting cafés and clubs, showing Liz's picture to anyone who would look. But Cyn was no closer to finding her. She stood in her closet on the fourth night, wearing nothing but her underwear and staring blankly at the racks of clothes while her brain struggled to think of a fresh approach, something new that would help her find Elizabeth. Several of the kids she'd spoken with had clearly recognized the picture, although not one of them would admit to it. It was frustrating, but it told her at least that Liz was alive and well somewhere on the streets of L.A. Now all she had to do was persuade the girl to come into the light.
Far more troubling though, was the growing evidence that Jabril's real investigator had finally followed the trail to California. More than one of the street kids had been questioned by someone before Cyn got there, someone the kids had described as looking an awful lot like the white-haired guy she'd run into outside Jabril's place. Which meant not only was he on the right track for finding Elizabeth, but he was far too close to Mirabelle for Cyn's comfort.
Of course, Raphael's security people understood the importance of keeping Mirabelle on the estate and out of sight, and Cyn had made a point of mentioning it to Alexandra. She'd also spoken privately to Duncan, who assured her the gate guards had been instructed not to permit Mirabelle off the estate without specific permission from either him or Raphael. She'd breathed a bit easier after that, buoyed by the knowledge that the danger to Mirabelle was temporary, only until the young vampire was formally under Raphael's protection. Once that happened, Jabril risked outright conflict with Raphael if he tried to force her back to Texas, something Duncan had told her even Jabril would not venture since the Vampire Council would surely side with Raphael in this matter. Her train of thought reminded her that Mirabelle's appointment with the vampire lord was three days away and Raphael expected Cyn to be there. She sighed.
As for Raphael and his involvement in the murders, there hadn't been a peep from anyone in the last few days about the investigation. Nothing from Eckhoff, which was expected given her run-in with Santillo, but Duncan had been silent as well. Did that mean the police had stopped looking at Raphael? Surely Duncan would have let her know if things were heating up. She sat down to tug on her Frye boots, telling herself she was a fool. What was she worrying about anyway? Raphael? The big bad vampire could take care of himself.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. He was probably traveling or busy or who knew what else? So no one had called her. Wasn't that what she'd wanted all these weeks? To be left alone, to get over him?
Uh huh. She grabbed the first sweater she found and pulled it over her head. It was time to stop stressing over the vampire and get to work. She needed to find Liz and get her securely into the fold before someone else snatched her up.
Chapter Thirty-two
Mirabelle dropped the empty blood bag into the plastic bin and wiped her mouth delicately with the fine linen napkin. There was a bit of blood on one finger and she licked it off quickly, savoring the rich flavor of the thick liquid. She'd never known blood could taste so good. Lonnie said Jabril had probably been watering her blood supply all these years, keeping her weak, keeping her biddable. Long suppressed anger tightened her gut and she stood, stomping over to her small private bath to wash her hands and face.
It made her sick to think what her life had been all these years, how completely cowed she'd been by the Texas vampire lord. She wanted to believe it had been the malnutrition or simple ignorance. But honesty compelled her to admit she'd been afraid. Terrified, really. Not that Jabril Karim hadn't given her plenty of reason to fear him, but she should have fought back somehow. Hell, she should have left him. Should have walked out the door, gone to her parents’ lawyer, to the cops, or even to Ramona Hewitt. Someone would have helped her, if only for the money. And gods knew there was enough of that. Cynthia had already talked to her about wresting control of the Hawthorn Trust back from Jabril. She'd put her in touch with some big time lawyers here in L.A., and they'd already come by the house to meet with her. Cynthia had been there too, but only briefly. She'd been eager to get back to the streets, to the search for Liz. Cyn hadn't said anything, but Mirabelle knew she was worried about how long it was taking to find her sister.
Mirabelle was worried too. She'd left several messages in the chat room for Liz, each one essentially the same. Everything's okay, I'm safe. Where are you? Thoughts of Liz sent her over to the new desk which had been delivered yesterday. It was a beautiful piece, if not precisely what Mirabelle would have chosen. But, after all, this was Alexandra's house; Mirabelle was only a guest. Someday soon, after Cyn found Liz, the two sisters would find a place together and they'd decorate it any way they wanted. It made her a little sad to think about leaving the estate, though. All the vampires here were so nice, so seemingly ordinary. She'd even met several other female vamps, in addition to Elke who looked kind of scary, but who'd been really friendly, joking that Mirabelle needed some muscle and offering to help her work out in the gym.
For the first time, she felt part of a community. She'd put on ten pounds in the short time she'd been in L.A. and her skin was flushed with a pinkish color that was pale, but far healthier looking than she'd ever expected to be again. And ten pounds! Who'd have ever thought that would be a good thing. She laughed quietly. Maybe she'd take Elke up on that workout after all. She liked the female guard, even though Alexandra didn't approve. Alexandra had some pretty old ideas about how a woman should behave, and being a bodyguard wasn't one of them.
But Mirabelle thought it was great that Elke was part of Raphael's inner security. It was an honor, a mark of his trust. Of course, everyone here took security very seriously. And not only at the gates. Every vampire on the estate slept through the day in the safety of the basements. Not just Raphael or Alexandra, but all of the guards and Mirabelle, too. Each of them had a private chamber in the specially constructed vaults, one beneath the main house and another at Alexandra's manor. They were like giant bank vaults, but once closed for the day, the door could only be opened from the inside. Mirabelle had never known that kind of safety as a vampire.
She had yet to actually visit the main house, but she would soon. This weekend, she would present herself to Raphael and formally request his protection. Alexandra had drilled her in the proper words to say and how to act. She was afraid Mirabelle would embarrass herself, and by association, Alexandra, if she messed up. So they'd rehearsed the ritual nightly until Mirabelle was dreaming the words during her daytime rest. It wasn't complicated or anything, but it was important to Alexandra, so Mirabelle practiced because she definitely wanted to stay with Raphael.
Back at her computer, she went first to the familiar chat room and logged in. The message waiting icon popped up immediately. She was so surprised that she stared stupidly at it for several minutes. When it finally dawned on her what it might mean, her eyes widened and her heart began to race; her hand was shaking so badly she had to try twice before she managed to maneuver the cursor and click the message open.
Liz! It was from Liz! Tears of combined happiness and relief filled her eyes, and she grabbed a tissue before they could spill over onto the computer. She read through the message quickly, her elation quickly shifting to concern. Her sister was happy to hear from her, amazed that Mirabelle had escaped Jabril and was here in L.A. But all of Liz's belongings had been stolen on her second day in the city, leaving her with nothing except her small purse and, thankfully, the little bit of money she'd managed to put together before running. It had been rough for awhile, but she was safe now, she said. She'd met a guy, someone older, who was letting her crash in his spare bedroom until she figured out what to do. The guy had even offered to help her get a lawyer or something once she'd turned eighteen and could legally claim her inheritance.
Don't worry, she wrote, correctly anticipating Mirabelle's reaction. He's not a pervert and he's not a creep. He's someone who knows what I'm going through, because he had to run away from home when he was sixteen. His stepfather was abusing him. Can you believe that? Disgusting. He doesn't like to talk about it, but I think it was pretty rough. Once I get Mom and Dad's money, I'm going to help him set up his own business. It's the least I can do.
Mirabelle stared at her sister's message, the blood she'd so enjoyed a short time ago sitting heavily in a queasy stomach. God knew she certainly wasn't a woman of the world, not like Cynthia who was always so confident, so brave. She sighed. But even Mirabelle knew this guy was using Liz. It made her sick to think what games he might be playing with her little sister even now. She hit reply.
Cow baby! She stuck a big grinning smiley after the words. I've got a place you can stay. Somewhere safe, with ME! Call me. She inserted her temporary cell phone number. Or meet me in chat. I'll be waiting for you. She paused in her typing, trying to think of the best time, when she knew she'd be awake and already sitting at her computer. She shrugged and typed, Every night. Tick tock, tick tock. I'm waaaaaaaaaaaiiiting. She finished with a vampire smiley, tiny fangs and a widow's peak hairline framed by a high-neck cape.