Page 28 of Patrick’s Seduction

“I’m gonna find out. One other thing: I couldn’t find anything on where he works. Do you know?”

“He said he works for his family. They have, I don’t know, some businesses. And it sounded like he was managing some of them. But I didn’t ask what it was exactly. The corporate world doesn’t really interest me.” Maybe her lack of interest about what Cameron did for a living should have made her realize earlier that she didn’t really want a future with him.

“Alright, not to worry. I’ll go to the flat and check it out now.”

“What are you gonna tell him, when you find him?” Her hand trembled again at the thought that Patrick would confront Cameron, and that Cameron would lash out at him, hurt him like he’d hurt her.

“That depends on what I find. I’ll first have to confirm that he still lives at the address on his driver’s license.”

“Be careful, please,” she said, turning away from Lydia, and lowering her voice. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

A soft chuckle came through the line. “You won’t have to worry about me. Just promise to stay with Lydia no matter what. She’ll protect you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

She disconnected the call and turned back to Lydia, handing the phone back to her. Lydia gave her a warm smile.

“He can take care of himself,” Lydia said. “We had the same training. He is one of the best.”

Fallon forced a smile. She hoped that Lydia was right, because her memory of the attack had made her realize one thing: Cameron was stronger and more dangerous than he looked.

15

The address on Cameron’s driver’s license was a third-floor walkup in a large Victorian home in the Marina district of San Francisco that had been converted into three units. The doorbell didn’t show a name but only the flat’s number, which wasn’t unusual. Lots of people didn’t want their name on the door.

Patrick stepped back from the entrance door and looked up at the building. There was no light in the top unit, indicating that Cameron wasn’t home. It was way too early for him to be asleep already—or still, if he was a vampire. The sun had set a short while ago. If he wasn’t home, this was a good occasion to check out his place. But he had to be prepared just in case Cameron was in his flat.

Patrick returned to his car, retrieved a clipboard, and took a padded envelope from his trunk. Quickly, he used a Sharpie to write Cameron’s address on it and put a fake name as the recipient, before returning to the entrance door. He was ready to pretend he had a package that needed a signature so he could draw Cameron out, and see for himself if he was a vampire or not. His aura would give him away. It was the way supernatural creatures recognized each other. However, it was invisible to humans.

Patrick rang the doorbell and waited. He heard no sounds from upstairs, and after thirty seconds, he rang the doorbell again. But there was no reply. Looking over his shoulder, he quickly assessed his surroundings. It was a quiet street, and only a few cars drove by. There were no pedestrians. He took his lockpicks from the inside pocket of his windbreaker and went to work.

Everybody who trained at Scanguards learned essential skills, and picking a lock was one of them. He had no trouble opening the entrance door that led into the short hallway with a door to the first-floor apartment. Stairs led to the other floors. He hurried up to the third floor and listened at the door. But no sounds came from the flat. Again, he used his lockpicks and made short work of the lock.

He eased the door open quietly and squeezed inside. The place was comfortably furnished, definitely not on the cheap side. The touch was decidedly masculine with clean lines and dark tones. He kept his eye open for any mail, but found none lying around. There were several houseplants in the living room. Patrick pressed his finger into the soil and noticed that it was moist. Somebody definitely lived here and had recently watered the plants.

He marched into the kitchen. A glance into the trash bin revealed an empty wine bottle and wrappers of junk food. He opened the refrigerator, and found it relatively bare, except for a couple of steaks in the meat drawer, several beers, white wine, and a few condiments. No bottled blood. This ruled out Cameron being a pure-blooded vampire. But he could still be a vampire hybrid, since hybrids could eat human food in addition to blood. The lack of bottled blood in Cameron’s fridge could mean that he preferred to hunt for blood and drank directly from a live human.

Patrick opened the kitchen drawers and looked through them for anything confirming that Cameron still lived here, but found nothing in the kitchen. The living room proved to be more fruitful. Underneath a manual for a speaker system, he found a packing slip showing Cameron’s full name. The packing slip was recent. He’d received the speaker system only a week earlier. This confirmed that this was indeed Cameron’s flat. So why had he told Fallon that he lived in Marin County?

What did he have to hide? Was he living with somebody? Patrick went into the bedroom and found only clothes for a man. There were no toiletries or makeup for a woman, and only one toothbrush. Cameron lived alone.

Patrick glanced at his watch. He’d already spent enough time here. It was best to leave, before Cameron caught him snooping around. As he left the flat and made his way down, he heard voices from downstairs. Doors were opened and closed; footsteps echoed in the hallway. His pulse hitched, but he forced himself to remain calm, while holding on to the clipboard and the padded envelope. He had his excuse ready. If Cameron had just entered the building, he was ready to pretend that he had an urgent delivery, which required a signature.

The sound of the footfalls came closer, then stopped suddenly. He heard the sound of a key being inserted into a lock. Moments later, a door was opened, then closed a few seconds later. The resident on the second floor had come home. Relieved, Patrick rushed downstairs and left the house unseen.

Outside, he looked at the trash cans that were lined up to one side of the house. He grabbed two of them and rolled them in front of the garage. Done with this task, he got back into his car. It was parked on the other side of the street with a clear view of the entrance door to the three-unit Victorian.

The first step was done. He’d confirmed that Cameron lived here. But it didn’t tell him whether he was a supernatural creature or not. To determine that, he would need to see the man with his own eyes. Therefore, he had to wait for him to come home. However, there was no guarantee when and if he would return home tonight.

Patrick pulled a burner phone from his glove box and typed in Cameron’s cell number that Fallon had provided him with. He let it ring. On the second ring, it was answered.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Gallagher?” Patrick said, changing his voice a little to sound older and less polished. “I’m George, the plumber for your neighbor, you know, the one below you. Sorry to disturb you, but…”

“Yeah, what is it?” Cameron asked impatiently.

“Well, there’s water coming down from your flat. I knocked on your door… well, you need to do something… the water, it’s still running. The damage is getting worse…”