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He grinned as he made his way toward his temporary lair, then began humming, “California, here I come….”

Chapter 17

Rhys heaved a sigh as his gaze moved over the faces of the Vampire Council. As usual, none of the members were happy to be there. Winchester was slouched in his chair, cell phone in hand. Nicholas was paring his fingernails with a wicked-looking blade.

Adrianna smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt, then looked up, a pout on her pale lips. “Have you forgotten you’re a vampire?” she asked, a whine evident in her tone. “What’s with all these early meetings?”

“He’s probably got a date again,” Julius replied with a smirk.

“Indeed?” Rupert perked up, his dark eyes glowing. “Does she have a friend?”

“All right, that’s enough!” Rhys said, scowling. “We’re not here to set up a dating service.”

“So, what are we here for?” Nicholas asked. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added quickly. “But I’d rather be home.”

Rhys nodded. One of his vampires had reported several killings in Phoenix, leading Rhys to believe that the rogue had left New Mexico. He had ordered Nicholas and Seth Adams back to LA the following night.

“It’s obvious the rogue isn’t staying long in any one place.” Rhys leaned back in his chair, his elbows resting on the arms, fingers steepled.

“And just as obvious that he’s heading in our direction,” Adams remarked.

Adrianna turned her gaze on Rhys. “Maybe he’s coming in your direction.”

Ignoring her, Rhys said, “I’m getting tired of asking this question, but have any of you heard anything?”

As usual, they had nothing concrete to report. There were rumors—Morag had gone to ground; Sandoval had left Spain; a young vampire had challenged Baiba for Russia and been destroyed—but then, there were always rumors. They flew thick and fast in the vampire world.

Rhys dismissed them all out of hand. The only one that piqued his interest concerned Tomás Villagrande. One of the East Coast vampires had told Rupert that Villagrande’s yacht was no longer anchored off the coast of New York.

“You don’t think he’s the rogue, do you?” Adrianna asked, glancing nervously around the room. “You don’t think he’s coming here?”

Hastings leaned forward. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not! Why should I?”

“I don’t know,” Hastings said, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. “You tell me.”

“Is there something going on we need to know about?” Rhys asked. “If so, spit it out now.”

Adrianna squared her shoulders. “We had a little disagreement some years ago.”

“What kind of a disagreement?” Hastings asked.

“None of your business,” Adrianna retorted.

Winchester looked up from his cell phone.

Adams and Hastings exchanged glances.

Rupert looked at Rhys, waiting for his reaction.

“None of our business?” Rhys repeated, his voice like ice over steel. “In light of current events, you might want to rethink that.”

“We had a squabble a long time ago, that’s all. I’m sure he’s forgotten all about it by now.”

“Is that right?” Rhys asked. “What did you squabble about?”

When Adrianna didn’t answer immediately, Julius said, “It’s gotta be one of two things. Territory or prey. What else is there?”

Rhys nodded, his gaze on Adrianna’s face. “Which one was it?”

“Territory,” she replied sullenly. “I wanted to stay in Maine. He wouldn’t let me.”

Hastings shook his head. “There’s got to be more to it than that.”

“I think so, too,” Rhys said. “What is it?” When Adrianna didn’t answer, he trapped her gaze with his. “I can make you tell me,” he said. “And you won’t like it.”

She glared at him, her expression mutinous. “I killed a woman he had marked as his.”

“That wasn’t very bright of you,” Hastings remarked.

“Shut up!”

“All right, that’s enough,” Rhys said. “If Villagrande’s coming here, I doubt it’s to avenge something that happened years ago. If he wanted to destroy Adrianna, he’d likely have done it by now.”

“Then why else would he be coming here?” Nicholas asked.

“Maybe he just wants to sail in the Pacific for a while,” Rupert suggested. “Hell, don’t we all like a change of scene every fifty years or so?”

“I don’t give a damn where he makes port,” Rhys said, “but if he starts killing in my territory…” He shook his head. “That’s something else.”

“Do you think you can take him?” Julius asked, his close-set brown eyes glittering at the thought of two ancient vampires battling one another.

Winchester shook his head. “Villagrande’s never been bested in a fight, we all know that.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Adams said.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Rhys remarked, getting to his feet. “See yourselves out. I’m leaving.”

Outside, Rhys slid behind the wheel of the Jag, then pulled away from the curb, his thoughts turned inward. He supposed it had only been a matter of time until trouble rolled into town again. He caught a faint scent of the hunter as he drove toward Megan’s house, but he wasn’t in the mood to go looking for a fight now, didn’t want to go to Megan with blood on his hands. Besides, as far as he knew, the hunter wasn’t doing much hunting.

He pushed all thoughts of Villagrande and the Vampire Council from his mind as he pulled into Megan’s driveway. The next few hours belonged to him.

Filled with anticipation, he knocked on the door, felt his whole body spring to attention when she opened it wearing nothing but a smile.

Chapter 18

Rhys slid his arm around Megan’s shoulders. It was late Saturday night, and they were sitting on the sofa in her living room. The fragrance of her hair and skin surrounded him, the scent of her blood drugged his senses.

He nuzzled the side of her neck, thinking how much his life had changed since that first night when he had walked into Shore’s. Sometimes, he almost forgot who and what he was. Sometimes he felt almost human again.

Two weeks had passed since Megan had met him at the door wearing nothing but a come-hither smile. They had been the best two weeks of his existence, which was saying something, he thought, considering his longevity. He continued to meet Megan at Shore’s when she got off work. On her days off, he spent his nights in her company. Sometimes they went dancing at his club; other nights they went to the movies, or spent the evening at his place, curled up in each other’s arms. Last weekend, they had gone out with Shirl and her boyfriend. Rhys had been somewhat surprised that Shirl had agreed. It was obvious she didn’t trust him.

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