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The elevator stopped at the fourth floor. Bugger. Lindsey and Tina would be floundering around that hallway for five minutes. He'd have to wait. Or maybe he should just go home. If Emma realized he knew where she was, she'd leave again. No, it was better to leave her alone. He'd teleport back to Roman's townhouse and send her an e-mail, asking to see her tomorrow night. He closed his eyes, thinking of her shiny, dark hair and amber eyes, the graceful curve of her cheek and neck. Good night, Emma. Sleep well.
Emma dropped the crate on Austin's sofa, then took the sack of silver goodies into his bedroom. She studied the room. Yes, this would work nicely. She'd put some fresh sheets on the bed, and after sunrise, she'd go back to her apartment for her laptop and some clothes. Some sexy clothes.
She headed back through the living room to the kitchen, where she found a knife to pry open the crate.
Good night, Emma. Sleep well.
With a gasp, she fumbled the knife on the countertop. Angus. She grasped the knife in her fist and whirled around. The room was empty. Of course it was. The voice hadn't been close by. It had been inside her head.
She poured psychic energy into a wall of defense. How dare he enter her mind like that? She knew it was him. The voice had kept all the qualities of Angus's voice. The deep, masculine tone, the soft lilt of his accent.
How had he managed the connection across town? Unless...
She dashed to the living room window and peeked through the blinds at the street below. A few pedestrians were out, but no men in kilts. She closed the blinds. Had he somehow discovered her whereabouts? She ran to the front door, flipped the locks, and looked outside.
Two blond women were teetering down the hallway, jabbering and laughing. The taller one wore brown and turquoise; the shorter one, pink and silver. They stopped a few doors down. The taller one struggled to get her key into the lock.
Emma stepped into the hall to peer around the women. She hid the knife behind her back to keep from alarming them. The hallway was empty.
The taller blonde dropped her key on the floor. "Shit!" She leaned over to pick it up and tumbled onto her face.
The shorter one giggled. "God, Lindsey, you're so smashed."
Lindsey stood and smoothed down her brown mini-skirt. "I am not smashed. I'm totally hammered."
With a shake of her head, Emma headed back into Austin's apartment.
"Let me try." The shorter blonde pushed Lindsey aside to unlock their door.
Lindsey careened into the opposite wall, then spotted Emma. "What are you doing? Isn't that Austin's apartment?"
"Yes. He's out of town, so I'm house-sitting for him. We're good friends." Emma started to close the door.
"Wait!" Lindsey lurched toward her. "You can't be his girlfriend. We know about Austin."
Emma hesitated.
"We know Austin's secret," the shorter one announced in a singsong voice.
They knew he'd been a spy for the CIA? "What exactly do you know?"
"We know he might as well come out of the closet." Lindsey snickered. "Right, Tina?"
"I know, right?" Tina gave Emma a doubtful look. "You can't be much of a friend if you didn't know he's g*y."
Emma's mouth dropped open. Why on earth would Austin tell these women he was g*y? Unless... "Did either of you make a pass at him?"
Lindsey snorted. "Well, duh! The guy's totally hot."
"I tried a jillion times to get him to come inside." Tina flipped her pink-streaked hair over her shoulder. "He always had some kind of excuse, like his iron was on."
Lindsey scoffed. "That is so rude."
Emma knew Austin wasn't g*y. The guy had snapped a hundred photos of a girl he was lusting for. "I'm afraid you're mistaken about him."
"'Fraid not!" Lindsey yelled. "We have proof. We met his boyfriend."
"Yeah, he was a total poser," Tina boasted. "He's not even Irish."
"Yeah," Lindsey added. "His fake accent and little skirt couldn't fool us."
Emma caught her breath. "There was a man downstairs with an accent, wearing a skirt? Was he tall with incredibly broad shoulders, a gorgeous face with green eyes, and long auburn hair?"
"Sheesh, don't get all worked up." Tina rolled her eyes. "The guy won't be interested in you. He even had a purse."
"Yeah." Lindsey nodded. "Like that's a clue."
Emma squeezed the knife in her fist. "He was downstairs in the lobby? Just now?"
"Yeah, we just saw him." Tina scratched at her pink highlights. "He kept talking about Austin."
"And he wouldn't come upstairs with us," Lindsey mumbled. "Anyone who refuses us has got to be g*y."
"I know, right?" Tina nodded seriously. "'Cause we're so totally hot."
Emma took a deep breath. Angus had been downstairs. He knew where she was. "Good night, ladies." She shut the door and bolted the locks. Shit. A hell of a lot of good these locks would do. Angus could teleport inside whenever he wanted to.
Why hadn't he? Why was he leaving her alone? She strode to the sofa and pried open the crate of stakes. Damn that Angus MacKay! He could invade the apartment or her mind whenever he damned well pleased.
And if that wasn't bad enough, there was a part of her that actually liked the fact that he'd gone to the trouble to track her down. He was interested in her, not the blond bimbos in the hall who'd tried to pick him up. Did this mean he never took advantage of mortal women for a little nibble? Did he only take his meals from a bottle like he said? Good heavens, she was starting to believe him.
Just the fact that she was flattered by his attention was a major disaster. He was sneaking into her confidence. He was trying to burrow into her heart. Dammit, no one was allowed there.
The only way to get rid of him was to kill him. And if part of her objected to that, then it just made her decision more imperative. He had to go. He had to die before he weaseled his way into her heart.
Quickly she stashed stakes around the apartment so she could access them easily. She made up the bed and placed the silver handcuffs and chains under her pillow. She stripped down to her bra and panties and lounged on the bed, waiting. Whether he came tonight or tomorrow night, it didn't matter.
She was ready for him, and he would die.
Chapter 7
Emma woke with a start and glanced at the bedside clock. It was almost noon. Sometime, close to dawn, she'd fallen asleep. And Angus hadn't come.
She threw her clothes on and jogged to her apartment in SoHo. She ate a quick breakfast, took a quick shower, then packed some clothes to take back to Austin's place. Unfortunately, she didn't have much in the realm of sexy. Her clothes tended to be practical and comfortable, clothes she could fight in. She'd never played the seductress before. Where did you hide a stake if you were wearing nothing but lacy underwear?
She ended up tossing all her lingerie into the suitcase. She could figure out the sexy outfit later. She wheeled her suitcase into the tiny living room.
Half a dozen stakes remained on the coffee table. Angus had left them alone. She settled on the loveseat in front of her laptop. Since it was Sunday, she didn't expect many e-mails. Actually, she never had many. It was hard to maintain friendships when so much of her life was secret. She clicked on the inbox and saw one message that had been sent at four-forty-three A.M. From Angus MacKay.
Her heart took a little leap, but she quickly squelched it. Of course she found the man exciting. She was planning to kill him tonight. She took a deep breath. Correction. She was planning to seduce him, then kill him.
She'd never done anything so blatant before, but she felt sure Angus would do his part. He'd gotten an erection just lying next to her in the park. He was probably well experienced when it came to sex. Centuries of leaving the ladies verra satisfied. Not that she would ever know. She wasn't going to let it get out of hand.
She opened his message.
Dear Emma, I was sorry to miss you. I was tempted to take your laptop since it might be filled with interesting information, and obtaining information is what I do. I declined, though, in hopes that you will realize I am trustworthy.
Emma snorted. A trustworthy vampire?
I know where you are. I will meet you at Austin Erickson's apartment Sunday night at eight. I will not harm you. I simply want to talk.
What on earth was there to talk about? Obviously, he wanted her to stop slaying. He claimed to be worried about her safety, but she suspected he was more worried about the safety of his vampire buddies. How far was he prepared to go to stop her? If she refused to stop, would he try to kill her? She almost wished he would. It would justify her plan to kill him.
