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Looking slightly confused, the cop closed his ticket book and returned to his car.
Derek tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the patrol car pull into traffic. He would have been happy to give the guy his driver’s license, only the one he carried was fake. He didn’t have insurance, or a birth certificate, either. As far as humanity was concerned, Derek Blackwood didn’t exist. Usually, he didn’t give it a thought, but sometimes, like tonight, it made him feel like the invisible man. It was a lonely feeling.
Swearing a pithy oath, he put the car in gear and drove back toward Hollywood.
Without conscious thought, he found himself in front of Nosferatu’s Den.
Sheree sat at the end of the bar, listening to the music and wondering what insanity had brought her back here. Only three nights ago, she had decided it wasn’t safe to frequent Goth clubs like this one. She had phoned her mother to let her know that she planned to come home, and would probably be there in a week or two. At least at home, she would never be bored. Life with her parents was like living on a merry-go-round. If they weren’t on the golf course or playing tennis at the club, they were out on the boat, or dedicating a new wing at a hospital, or holding a charity auction to raise money for one cause or another. There were always parties to host and plays to attend, gallery openings, nights at the opera. Life was often hectic, but never dull.
She had left home because she wanted something different, wanted to spread her wings and try living on her own. Her parents had frowned on her decision, but it wasn’t up to them. She had her own money, thanks to a healthy inheritance from her great-grandfather.
Living by herself had been satisfying, in its own way, but also extremely lonely. She didn’t know anyone in California, didn’t have the skills to get a good job. And looking for a vampire hadn’t been as exciting as she had hoped, until she’d met Derek.
Damn. She had sworn she would not think of that man again.
“Can I get you a refill, miss?”
“What? Oh, no. Wait. I’d like a Vampire’s Kiss.” One last drink, and then she was going home to pack. It seemed fitting somehow that it would be the drink Derek had recommended.
The bartender grinned at her. “Coming right up.”
The bartender had just served her drink when two men approached her. Both were built like linebackers, tall and broad shouldered. One had a long scar on his left cheek. They both wore long black coats.
Sheree felt a shiver of apprehension when the scar-faced man sat on the vacant bar stool beside her. He had blond hair, worn long, and eyes that were an odd color, not yellow, not brown, but something in between. The second man stood behind her.
“Could we talk to you for a moment?” Scarface asked.
Sheree shook her head. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”
“This won’t take long.”
“Sorry.” She stood, but the second man blocked her retreat. “What do you want?” She told herself there was nothing to be afraid of. She was in a room filled with people; the bartender was only a few feet away.
“We’d just like to ask you a couple of questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“You were in here earlier in the week.”
“Yes.”
“We’re trying to get in touch with the man you were with. He’s a friend of ours. We were hoping you could tell us where he lives.”
“I thought you were friends?”
Scarface smiled. There was no warmth in it. “He moved recently and we lost touch.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you. I just met . . .” She paused at the eager look in the man’s eyes when she started to say Derek’s name. “I just met him.”
Scarface looked at his companion, then shook his head.
Sheree glanced around. If she yelled for help, would anyone come to her aid?
“All right, let’s go at this from another angle,” Scarface said. “What do you know about him?”
Sheree shook her head. “Nothing. I told you, we just met.”
“Did he do anything that seemed unusual?”
“Unusual? In what way? We had a few drinks, we danced. That was all.”
Scarface looked at his companion again. “We’re wasting our time here. She doesn’t know anything.” He nodded at Sheree. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
Sheree watched the two men as they made their way to a table in the back corner, where they sat with their heads together.
She grabbed her handbag and practically ran toward the door. When a hand closed around her arm, she let out a startled cry.
“Let’s go.” Scarface pushed her out the door. “Where are you parked?”
“D-down there. The-the blue one.”
Fear choked her as the second man wrenched her purse out of her hands and unlocked the doors.
“Keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” Scarface warned, crowding her up against the side of her car.
“Please, let me go!” Sheree implored. “I don’t know anything!”
Scarface opened the rear door and pushed her inside.
With a cry, Sheree lashed out at him, raking her nails across his cheek, kicking out at him as hard as she could.
But Scarface was bigger, stronger.
He hit her once and she fell back on the seat, certain her life was over.
Derek had been sitting in his car across from the Den, debating whether he should go inside or head back home, when he saw Sheree exit the club, a man on either side of her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and filled with fear. Her heart was pounding so loudly he was sure he would have heard it even without his preternatural senses.
The men had turned left, herding Sheree toward her car, which was parked at the end of the block.
Derek muttered, “What the hell?” when the scar-faced man started to shove her into the backseat, grinned when she fought back, even though it was a losing fight.
When the scarred man struck her, Derek went into action. Faster than the eye could follow, he raced down the street, grabbed the man by the hair, and slammed his forehead against the car. The man dropped like a stone.
The second man whirled around, his hand reaching inside his coat.
With a low growl, Derek broke both of the man’s arms and shoved him out of the way. Whimpering, the guy fell to the pavement, all the fight gone out of him.
“Sheree?” Derek touched her shoulder lightly. “Sheree, are you all right?”
She stared up at him, her mouth agape.
“Come on.” Taking her by the hand, Derek settled her into the passenger seat. “We need to get out of here.”
