Page List


Font:  

Frank’s thumb rubbed the back of Aimee’s hand gently, but she could feel the tension in his body. He was anxious to procure whatever the courier was delivering. It peaked her curiosity. Their home was filled with many rare artifacts due to Frank’s collecting addiction. He had a deep need to possess the rare and hard to find. If he believed something was one of a kind, it became even more of a compulsion to collect it. Aimee did not fool herself into believing that Frank loved her for her personality or looks. It was because she was a full-blood witch and, therefore, just one more piece in his collection.

There was no answer from the other side of the door. Frank again checked his watch and scowled. “This isn’t acceptable.”

Ramon again rapped his knuckles against the door and raised his voice as he called out, “Mr. Klein, your guest is here.”

Aimee watched as Frank’s face began to flush with frustration. It was not a good sign.

Again, there was no answer.

Pointing at the face of his watch, Frank said to the flustered guards, “I don’t have the time for this. I’m on a schedule and I won’t tolerate delays. Open that door.”

Ramon and the other guard exchanged looks, then Ramon nodded. “Do it, Tyson.”

Tiny beads of sweat dotted the black man’s brow as he pulled out a keycard and slipped it into the lock. The light above the handle flashed green and Tyson cracked the door open. “Mr. Klein, your guest is here. Mr. Klein?”

“This is ridiculous.” Frank reached past the guard and shoved the door open.

Aimee recoiled from the sight of the moldering remains of a vampire on the floor on the far side of the suite.

“And this is definitely unacceptable.” Frank appeared personally offended by the scene before him.

Ramon and Tyson quickly drew weapons and cautiously stepped into the suite. Frank waved an irritated hand at his own guards. One of his men followed while the other two remained in the hall to watch over the vampire and the witch.

Aimee reached into her small evening bag and pulled out a protection spell. The dry bundle felt warm and reassuring against her skin. Frank craned his head to look into the suite, impatient with the whole process of searching it.

“It’s clear,” Frank’s guard said. “No one is in here.”

Stomping into the suite, Frank scanned the room. “Where is my package?”

“It doesn’t appear to be here,” Tyson confessed.

Aimee was escorted inside by Frank’s guards. The door shut with a sharp click. She drifted over to a chair and sat on the edge of the seat. Frank was in a volatile mood and she knew things could deteriorate very quickly.

“Really? My package that I paid for isn’t here? And you two yahoos were out in the hall doing what while my package disappeared and the courier ended up as much garden mulch?” Frank kicked the pile of decomposing vampire. “One of you has to explain this to me.”

“There was a woman with him, but she’s not here now,” Ramon said immediately.

“A woman?” Frank arched both eyebrows. “Ah, yes. You said he was having his dinner. So, what was she? Some sort of magical invisible woman?”

“No, no. She was just a stupid bimbo,” Tyson said.

“Not so stupid if the courier is dead and the relic is gone, huh?” Frank poked Tyson’s chest with one finger, knocking him back a few feet. “What did this bimbo look like?”

“Blond, lots of makeup, lots of plastic surgery. Red dress. High heels.” Ramon shrugged. “She looked like a thousand other girls with dreams of being a movie star. I just don’t get how she got out of the room. The windows are sealed shut and there is only one door in.”

Aimee felt Frank’s eyes settle on her and she looked up at him.

“Well, my little witch? How did she get out? Because I think we’re all on the same page that she is behind the theft of my package and the murder of the courier, am I right?”

Ramon and Tyson reluctantly nodded.

Aimee scrutinized the suite from her chair. She felt like shrug

ging, but knew that would not go over very well with Frank. Standing, she strolled over to the closet, then the bathroom, holding her palm an inch over the surfaces. “I don’t feel a spell of any kind.” She turned to find Frank right behind her. His vampire stealth annoyed her.

“So then what? Are they spelled?” Frank pointed at the two very nervous guards.

Aimee strolled over to the two men and raised her hands. Closing her eyes, she flexed her power. It trickled over the men, tasting their aura, and dipping into their minds. Dropping her hands, she shook her head. “They’re not spelled and they’re not lying.”


Tags: Rhiannon Frater Pretty When She Dies Vampires