Paris club, I have not felt the same toward him.”
“If Marcellus had lived, would you have left Thierry?”
She blinked. “Goodness, what a question! He was my husband; how could I have left him?
I simply would have taken Marcellus as a lover.”
“Oh.”
I saw someone approach the booth and figured it was the bartender wondering if we wanted more drinks. I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat as I saw Quinn’s father staring down at me.
“Hi there,” I squeaked.
“I recognize you.” He wagged a finger at me. “You were in here with my son before.”
“Uh, that’s right.”
He frowned. “Have you seen the boy? I cannot find him anywhere tonight.”
I swallowed hard. “No. Haven’t seen him.”
He shook his head. “I have reached the end of my patience with him. He’ll receive no more mercy from me.”
“Roger?” Veronique said, and Quinn’s father glanced over at her.
“Veronique?” He raised a bushy eyebrow. “It can’t be you.”
She stood up. “But it is.”
His eyes tracked down her tight black dress. “Stunning. A vision of beauty, just as I remember you from so long ago.”
“You have a few more lines in your face,” she said with a smile. “But it suits you. You are as handsome as I remember as well.”
He smiled back at her, and it was almost a leering grin. “And how long ago was that?”
“Thirty years? Perhaps more? Sarah, dear, would you excuse us for a moment?”
I nodded, since I couldn’t find my voice to speak. I watched Veronique follow Quinn’s father, the leader of the vampire hunters, into a dark and smoky corner of the bar. Their faces grew close, and they whispered and laughed and touched each other like old friends. Did he know that she was a vampire? He had to. I think he was smart enough to figure out if someone hadn’t aged a day in decades that something was up. He was acting a little different than I would have expected him to in a situation like this, not that I knew him at all. All I knew was what I’d overheard when he reprimanded Quinn as if he were a naughty toddler. Quinn had been bullied all of his life by this zealot of a father who despised vampires and had devoted his life to wiping them off the face of the planet.
Then why was he giggling with Veronique like a schoolboy with a crush? It just didn’t make sense. Unless… A thought so horrible went through my mind that I immediately pushed it away. But it came back and poked me, insisting that I give it more consideration. Could it be that Veronique was the vampire traitor? Was that why she’d shown up in the city just before the hunters had come up with their new and improved annihilation plan? Veronique gave me the impression that she cared about one person and one person only— and it wasn’t Thierry. It was herself.
Then it had to be true. It just made sense. She was the informant. She was giving the hunters information on the secret clubs’ locations and then turning her pretty, dark-haired head in the other direction when they went in and slaughtered everyone in sight. I slipped out of the booth and left the bar without letting Veronique see me. I thought briefly about going back across the street to tell Thierry my suspicions, but didn’t. I didn’t want to be near him, either, after what I’d witnessed earlier. Veronique’s story hadn’t changed my opinion of him or softened my judgment that what he was planning to do to poor Eugene was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Instead, I went back to my apartment. I was so tired that I just wanted to sleep and push the conscious world far away. Maybe everything wouldn’t seem so hopeless tomorrow, although I had a feeling that was just wishful thinking. I fiddled with the key for my lock and slid it in, turned the handle, and pushed open my door. I tossed my purse and keys on the kitchen counter and sighed long and hopelessly in the darkness. It did feel good to be home. Something normal after such a crazy day. Here I could still pretend that nothing in my life had changed. That I was still the same girl who watched Sex and the City while eating Haagen-Dazs ice cream right out of the carton.
Who talked with Amy over the phone for two hours straight about a cute guy one of us was seeing, even though we’d already just spent the whole day working together. Whose closet was color-coordinated for ease of wardrobe choices. Yes, my apartment was my own space. My rented safety zone. My Ikea-decorated oasis. I flicked on the overhead light. And screamed.
Quinn was sitting on my sofa. He blinked at the sudden harsh light.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I managed, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
“How the hell did you get in here?”
He got to his feet and held out his hands to calm me down. “Easy. Take it easy. I’m sorry,
I just… It wasn’t that hard figuring out which unit was yours. Dearly isn’t that common of a last name, you know.”
I felt in my purse for the knife I’d stolen from the restaurant. It was only a butter knife, not very sharp at all, but I bet it would hurt a lot. At the very least, it would cause a bad bruise. I held it up in front of me.
He glanced at it and almost grinned. “Are you going to start singing something from West Side Story?”
“I don’t sing. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I thought we left things off pretty well earlier. I thought you trusted me now.” He took a step closer to me.
I took a step backward.
“Trust is not in my vocabulary when it comes to you, Quinn. Besides, you just broke into my apartment when I wasn’t here. Not exactly a way to build my confidence in you.”
“But I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Ever hear of the Holiday Inn? There’s one just around the corner. You get a free continental breakfast and everything.”
He sighed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I needed to see you. And you did say if I needed anything, I shouldn’t hesitate to ask.”
“I meant you should ask somebody else. Someone who gives a shit. Now I suggest you get the hell out of here before—”
He closed the space between us before I could do anything about it and snatched the knife right out of my hand. I heard it clatter to the floor at the same time I felt his strong, warm hands on either side of my face as he pulled me to him, taking my breath away with a passionate kiss.
We made it to the bed before I came to my senses. Even then, I was still kissing him back, clutching at him like a life preserver for the drowning woman I’d become.
“No.” I broke off the kiss and pushed at him weakly. “We can’t do this.”
He wasn’t listening very well and ran his mouth down my neck. I let out a quavering little moan before I gathered all the willpower I could manage.
“Quinn, no.” I pushed him harder this time, and he stumbled backward to the floor. He lay there looking up at me. His eyes were dark.
“Why not?”
“Just because, that’s why. Isn’t that good enough?”
He shook his head. “You want me, I can tell. Don’t try to deny it.”
I stood up and straightened out the dress I’d bought for our double date tonight. I noticed that there was a fresh tear in my panty hose. Just perfect. “I think you should leave.”
He got to his feet and came closer than I would have liked. “Sarah.” His voice was low and sexy, and it made my stomach tighten. But I backed away from him and refused to meet his eyes. He stopped moving toward me.