Page 57 of Damian’s Conquest

“Let’s pay her a visit.”

26

Tracy Horng’s flat was located in a run-down apartment building in the Tenderloin. There were plenty of drug addicts and homeless men and women, many clearly mentally ill, that roamed the streets, and every corner smelled of urine and feces. Naomi tried to hold her breath.

The entrance door to the building was unlocked. Damian pushed it open, and they entered. The elevator was out of order, so they took the stairs to the fifth floor. On Tracy’s floor were six flats. They knocked at Tracy’s door, and waited. Nothing happened.

“Maybe she’s at work?” Naomi said, looking at Damian.

“I can’t hear any sounds coming from inside. Let’s check it out.”

He pulled out something from his jacket pocket and stepped closer to the door.

“Are you gonna break in?” she asked under her breath and looked over her shoulder, worried that somebody would see them.

Damian cast her a sideways glance. “It’s not like I’m gonna steal anything. I just want to see if there’s evidence that Mick was here.”

She watched in fascination as he made quick work of the lock like a professional burglar and turned the door knob a moment later to let them inside. Quickly, Damian shut the door behind them.

“Did you learn that at Scanguards?”

He winked at her. “Beats kicking in the door.”

Naomi rolled her eyes, but secretly she wished she had skills like that too. Though she’d probably be too scared to do something like that as part of her job. Had she been alone, and not in Damian’s company, she would have never even attempted to break into the flat. But she felt safe with Damian. She knew instinctively that he would protect her. And as a vampire, he was stronger than any human.

The flat was small, the rooms tiny. There was a miniscule kitchen consisting of a two-burner stove, a small oven, a sink, and a small refrigerator. The bathroom was equally tiny, with a pedestal sink, a toilet and an old bathtub that had seen better days.

The living room doubled as a dining area, and the furniture was old and worn and a mish-mash of styles. The bedroom was dark, the curtains in front of the window heavy, covering it fully. Damian switched on the light upon entering.

Naomi let her eyes roam. The bed was unmade, and there was only one nightstand. The door to the built-in closet was open. An array of clothes hung on hangers, and on the bottom of the closet there were stacks of haphazardly folded sweaters and pants.

“This place is depressing,” Naomi said.

Damian looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, and the landlord here doesn’t want to fix anything either. The place is a health hazard.”

“You know the landlord?” she asked, surprised.

“No, but my father does. He’s been trying to get him to sell the place to him. But the owner is stubborn and wants more than what the building is worth.”

“What would your father do with it? Turn it into condos?”

To her surprise, Damian shook his head. “Where would the tenants go if he did that? Already there isn’t enough affordable housing available in this city. He would like to bring the place up to code, modernize it so it’s actually livable.”

“And have the same tenants stay?”

Damian nodded.

“But he’ll never get his money back on his investment. With rent control, he won’t be able to raise the rents sufficiently to cover his costs.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. He’s not doing it to make money. He’s got enough. But he loves this city, and he wants to clean it up to make it more livable for the next generations.”

“That’s quite noble. I wasn’t expecting that from a—”

“A vampire?”

“Not just a vampire, but any investor.”

“As I said last night, my father’s a big softy.” Damian crouched down to the bed and sniffed. “Mick was definitely here. But it’s been a few days. His scent is very faint.”