Jabril (Vampires in America #2) - Page 34/52

Cyn nodded and whispered back, knowing he could hear. “But not Kimiko."

Raphael chuckled. “A formidable woman, Kimiko, even before—” He gave a choking kind of cough and seemed to lose balance for a moment, leaning heavily against her. Cyn drew back in alarm.

"Raphael?"

"My apologies, Cyn, it seems...” With a visible effort, he straightened and shook his head. In a bizarre flashback to Mirabelle and the airplane, Cyn tucked her shoulder under his arm and urged him in the direction of the bed before his vampire nature took away the option. They barely made it. Cyn managed to pull back the blanket and Raphael collapsed onto the narrow mattress, pulling her down with him. She gave him a skeptical look, wondering if he was as out of it as he appeared, but his eyelids never even fluttered. His head hit the pillow, he exhaled a last deep breath and then ... nothing.

She panicked a little when he stopped breathing, her lungs seizing up in sympathy as she pressed her hand down over his heart. A wan beat pulsed under her palm, and she sighed in relief, only to jump in surprise when his chest expanded and he drew in another breath. She watched for several minutes, timing his vitals, finally relaxing when his body seemed to settle into a regular, if distinctly sluggish, rhythm.

Cyn had seen dead bodies, bodies in the morgue, bodies freshly dead from violence or even quietly dead at home or hospital. But despite the fiction of movies and television, the truth was that life fled the body fairly quickly. The personality that had once animated the flesh, the unique expressions that had sculpted the face their loved ones recognized ... those were gone forever. She gazed down at Raphael and wondered how anyone could mistake this serene beauty for death. She brushed an imaginary hair off his forehead, running her fingers back along his scalp and caressing his cheek softly. Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she stood, feeling slightly perverted, as though she'd taken advantage of him in his helpless state.

She straightened and looked around the small cell—four square walls, painted a dull gray, with a single sleeping platform jutting from one side and a sink and toilet in the far corner. There were no windows—they got that much right anyway. She crossed to the vanity and used the toilet, after a very thorough scan for additional cameras. She washed her face and hands, wrinkling her nose at the harsh soap provided, and had no sooner dried her hands on a paper towel, than the lights clicked off with no warning. She listened to the fading fluorescent buzz and chuckled. Santillo and crew couldn't complain about her sabotaging cameras that weren't supposed to be there, so they'd clearly decided to punish her by turning off the lights in the windowless room instead. They'd be disappointed to learn she didn't care. She'd been up all night searching for Liz; this would actually make it easier for her to sleep.

Unfortunately, it was going to be the floor or the bed; there wasn't anywhere else to sit. Another intentional oversight, no doubt. She wondered again if Raphael was at all aware under that serene exterior, and figured he was probably laughing his ass off right about now. But she was too tired to fight it.

Grateful for the dark room, she slipped the gun out of her waistband and tucked it under the pillow, then stretched out on the bed next to the vampire lord, turning so she faced the door. She closed her eyes, grateful at least that it was nearly winter and the days were short, although she suspected this one would seem very, very long.

Chapter Thirty-six

Cyn woke the instant Raphael began to stir. It had been a restless day for her, with people coming and going almost constantly out in the hallway. The facility had been virtually abandoned only days before, but they'd probably brought in extra staff since they were holding an actual prisoner. Still, Cyn couldn't help wondering if all that noise in the hallway had been intentional. There were times when it had sounded more like a frat party than a police holding facility. She shifted on the narrow bed, ready to sit up, when a familiar arm curled around her waist to hold her in place.

"Is this my punishment or yours, sweet Cyn?” he murmured.

Cyn focused on breathing normally, intensely aware of his closeness ... and the fact that the door could open at any minute.

Raphael's breath was warm on her neck. “Cameras?"

"The visual's still blocked.” She too spoke in a bare whisper. “I don't know about sound."

He relaxed fractionally. “I have missed you, my Cyn."

"You left me, you bastard."

"I was a fool."

Cyn closed her eyes against the rush of emotion triggered by his words. She was thankful for the still dark room, even though she knew he could feel the sudden jolt in her pulse and probably smell the tears that were inexplicably filling her eyes. He gathered her close, sliding both arms around her with a regretful sigh.

"I am sorry, lubimaya."

Cyn let her head rest on the thickness of his arm. Lubimaya, he called her. It was Russian. My love. You are such a fool, Cynthia.

A door slammed somewhere outside the cell and Raphael tensed again. “Boyd,” he said as the lights snapped on. “And others are with him."

When the door opened, they were both standing, Cyn slightly behind Raphael. He'd pushed her there at the first click of the lock. It was instinctive on his part, so Cyn tried to ignore the implication that she needed protecting. She scowled at his back, but couldn't help feeling a little pleased.

The first person into the room was Boyd. He slipped inside quickly and pulled the door nearly closed behind him, walking directly to Raphael with the vampire's confiscated belt and tie.

"My lord,” he said, holding them out with a wry smile.

Raphael took the belt first, sliding it through the loops at his waist and buckling it on with rapid movements. The tie came next. He slipped it around his neck and turned to Cyn with a raised eyebrow. There were no mirrors in the room. She knotted the silk with the practiced moves of a woman who'd known a lot of men in suits, then straightened his collar and smoothed the tie down his broad chest. When she finished, he took her hand and raised it to his lips for a soft kiss, before turning back to Boyd.

The lawyer's expression was twinkling with poorly concealed glee as he reported.

"The District Attorney offers his profound regrets, my lord, and assures me that all charges have been dismissed. He would have been here himself to convey the same had I not convinced him otherwise, advising him you would most certainly prefer to maintain a low profile. By the way, Ms. Leighton's research was most helpful,” he added with a nod in Cyn's direction.

His cell phone signaled an incoming text message and he paused, checking the display. “Duncan has arrived with an appropriate escort, my lord. We will exit through the rear of the building."

Raphael nodded formally, but clapped a hand on Boyd's slender shoulder in thanks before saying, “Cyn,” without looking at her. She came up next to him. “Are you ready, lubimaya?” he asked her.

Cyn huffed out a laugh. “A thousand times ready,” she agreed.

He pulled her into a quick one-armed embrace, kissing the top of her head. She caught a look of surprise on the lawyer's face, before Raphael let go. “We're ready then,” he said.

The hallway outside was once again packed with people, looking considerably less happy than they had earlier. Santillo lurked in the background, shooting daggers at the vampire, his gaze shifting to spear Cyn with no less hatred, as Boyd cleared a path through the crowd. Cyn ignored Santillo, but saw Hartzler standing in an open doorway staring at Raphael in awe. She caught his eye and nodded her thanks. She would do more later, in a less public venue. There was no point in getting the tech in trouble with Santillo and his buddies. She might not understand Hartzler's obsession, but he had clearly demonstrated his loyalties, and it wouldn't hurt to have him on their side in the future.

They turned left, away from the front of the building, heading for a narrow emergency exit. Boyd exchanged a look with someone in the crowd, apparently verifying that the alarm had been disengaged. He pulled the door open slowly. Duncan was waiting outside, the relief on his face short-lived as he snarled at the humans trailing behind Raphael. He made a curt gesture and the vampire bodyguards closed in, forming a protective circle around Raphael and Cyn as they made their way over to a big black SUV whose bulk all but blocked the narrow alley. There was enough room for the passenger doors to open on one side, but no more. Raphael stopped and gestured Cyn to go before him, but she shook her head.

"My truck's parked out front."

Raphael frowned. “One of the others—"

"No,” she interrupted, then said softly. “I appreciate it, but no. I want to check on Mirabelle, see if she's heard from Liz yet. If not, I need to start looking again. It shouldn't be taking this long and..."

Her words wound down. Raphael looked ... hurt? What had he thought, that she'd jump right into his bed, now that he'd made all nice to her, now that he'd apologized? Well, okay, that actually wasn't a bad idea, but ... No. She wasn't going to be that easy. She had a life, a job, and a teenaged girl who was still out there on the street with a killer on the loose. But she wasn't going to say any of that right here with his vampires listening in.

"It's important, Raphael. I need to find her."

He regarded her steadily, his eyes glittering with emotion. “Very well,” he said somewhat stiffly. “If you require—"

"I will.” She stepped away, letting the protective circle close around him, forming a wall between them. He stared at her a moment longer, and then disappeared into the SUV. Duncan shut the door after him, but walked over to Cyn before climbing into the front seat.

"Mirabelle's appointment is—"

"I know, Duncan. Don't worry. We'll both be there."

He gave her a puzzled look, shrugged and said, “Then I will see you Sunday."

Cyn watched them drive away before walking slowly down the alley and out onto the street, to emerge more than a block away from the para facility. She crossed to the other side and went quietly over to her Land Rover. Her body protested as she climbed into the truck. She was stiff and sore after another day of little sleep, and that spent on a narrow ledge not even wide enough for Raphael alone, much less both of them.