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As a full-blooded vampire, he didn’t need any light to read the contents of the book. I would have been able to make out some detail, but not with the same clarity. While he checked b

ack through Mayhew’s old appointments, I started snooping in Outlook. It was about as titillating as I’d anticipated. There were several messages from Gabriel, but none were incriminating. The only message from any of the missing girls was one from Trish Keller asking for an extension on a term paper.

One message was flagged, and I clicked it open. The sender was listed as E. Marx.

Dear Professor Mayhew,

I’m writing as a follow-up to our discussion after last Thursday’s class. I gave a lot of consideration to your thoughts, but I don’t think I’ll be able to pick up the work at this point. I have to focus on sciences. I will stop by your office tomorrow to have you sign the withdrawal forms. Again, I’m very sorry. I hope I’ll get another opportunity to take your class before I graduate.

Sincerely,

Ellory Marx

The name didn’t mean anything to me, but the flag Mayhew had placed on it made me uneasy. I printed the email and took a final look at his inbox. When it didn’t tell me what he was up to, I turned off the computer and stood. Holden was still paging through the Day-Timer, and it didn’t take superhuman night vision to know he looked concerned about something.

“What did you find?” I moved closer, careful not to touch him, and peered over his shoulder.

“He had several meetings with each of the girls, but in the last two weeks he’s met with Lucy three times out of his regular office hours. The names never overlap. He’ll meet with one girl three or four times, then moves on to the next. You’re sure Gabriel wasn’t involved with Lucy?”

I shook my head. “I enthralled him.”

Holden closed the book with a smack and tossed it back on Mayhew’s desk. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

“When did that change?”

“About the same time I stopped taking my orders from you.”

He gave me a tight-lipped smile that had nothing to do with happiness. “Well look who’s got all the power now.”

I flashed my teeth at him. Werewolf or vampire, fangs or not, the gesture meant the same thing—Stand down. He didn’t say anything else, but I would never know if he’d planned to. Beneath our feet came a triumphant crash and a muffled scream.

But we were already in the basement.

“I’m not imagining that, right?”

“No.”

“It did come from under us, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can you…?” It seemed wrong to ask him for help when we were in the middle of a fight, but his sense of smell had always been better than mine. Holden gave new meaning to the concept of a bloodhound. Even among vampires his sense of blood, new or old, was astonishing.

“If there’s blood, I can find it.”

He was out in the hall before I could thank him. I locked Mayhew’s door and had to run to keep pace with Holden as he dashed around the corner and out of sight. I caught up with him at the end of a hallway with no exit. There was a door in front of him marked Janitorial Supply. Didn’t exactly scream secret basement of doom.

“You’re sure?”

“You want to second-guess me, or do you want to use your lock-picking skills for some good?”

I sidled up next to him and assessed the door, then took a step back and delivered a hard side kick to the wooden barrier, knocking it inwards off its hinges. The sound of crunching wood was all I could hear for a moment.

“You were saying?” I asked.

Holden tapped the broken door with one finger. It shifted and collapsed onto the ground with a thud. “Faster than picking the lock,” he admitted.


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal