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After their meeting, she’d tried to catch his attention, but he was gone before she got a word out. At this rate, her time in Vegas would be up before she got to him.
Damn it. She should’ve just slept with him when she had the chance.
No, she needed a different tactic, but what? Her thoughts had been going in circles like a chicken with its head cut off.
Some fresh air would be good. She hadn’t left the Central Tower in three days. Maybe this trip would inspire her somehow.
Mind made up, Leah changed out of her heels into flats. “Let’s go.”
Lucy’s smile made her feel like she was on top of the world. No wonder everyone liked the younger woman. Something about Lucy’s presence made one feel like all was right in the world.
“I didn’t know Vegas had shelters for VB addicts,” Leah said as they entered the elevator. “Isn’t it risky to have the addicts so close to vampires?”
Lucy shrugged. “Not really. The vampires don’t go around feeding on the addicts.”
“Yeah, but what if vampires come and take someone? What’s stopping them?”
Lucy looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Vampires can’t come to the shelters. They’re not allowed.”
“But they’re vampires. You can’t just say no to them if one shows up.”
“Yes, you can. It’s against the law for vampires to enter shelter grounds without permission or invitation. The punishment is staking and five years in the ground.”
Leah had no idea the law existed. They exited the elevator to the garage. “Still, why tempt the addicts? It’s like putting alcohol in front of alcoholics.”
“That’s like saying you can’t have a shelter for cocaine addicts unless all cocaine is off the streets. Trust me, these shelters are the best in the world, and no vampire would risk their life trying to get in.”
She was still skeptical of the idea of shelters in Vegas. It would be a cakewalk for a vampire to convince an addict to leave the facility. Either way, she’d see them for herself soon. She followed Lucy to a line of five black SUVs already idling. Her brows furrowed.
“Is someone else coming?”
“No, it’s just us,” Lucy said and opened the first SUV’s passenger door. “Tristan’s driving.”
Once they were strapped in the backseat, the vehicle started moving. Stacked boxes of food and other items lay behind the seats. None of them included necessities Leah associated with shelter donations, like beans and rice and canned food. No, they were things like chips and cookies and flavored carbonated water. Non-food items included fountain pens, journals, nail polish, and such.
“What kind of supply drop is this?” When Lucy blinked in confusion, Leah clarified, “Where’re the non-perishable foods?”
“They don’t need non-perishable foods. They have plenty of that.”
“But they need nail polish?”
Lucy’s smile was one of feminine delight. “Yes. I hope they like the color.” Now it was her turn to explain. “The shelter has enough budget for basic supplies. All the essential stuff. But they don’t have money for anything fun. That’s why we run a donation drive every six months and try to meet the patients’ requests.”
Leah tried to imagine the nail polish in the Miami shelter and couldn’t reconcile the two images.
“Thanks again for coming.” Her attention returned to Lucy. “How do you like Vegas so far?”
“It’s…” How could she describe her experience without the Organization’s influence percolating? “Different…”
Lucy’s grin said she’d heard that before. They spent the rest of the ride chatting about work. Though Leah’s job depended on deception, she hated lying to unsuspecting people, so she steered the conversation toward Lucy. The younger woman had come here straight out of college. The city had always fascinated her, even as a child. It’d been her dream to work with vampires.
She was a vampire groupie. A traitor to her race, the Organization would label her. As much as Leah tried, she couldn’t dislike Lucy. Someone so sweet and kind, someone who went out of her way to help others in need, would not go to hell for associating with vampires.
“We’re here.”
Leah looked out the tinted windows. They’d stopped before an imposing metal gate with a guard station. A black metal fence, at least eight feet tall, extended from each side of the gate until it was out of sight. It must enclose the entire facility. Past the fence was a wide expanse of gardens full of large cacti and other desert plants common to the area.
“Hi, Gerard.” Lucy waved to the six-foot African American guard, who looked like a bodybuilder. The man returned Lucy’s smile.
