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And it was as a queen, with her head held high and her expression confident, that she clicked across the hotel lobby in her stilettos with her personal guard trailing behind. She didn’t miss the curious heads turning her way, wondering what celebrity she might be, and she noticed one in particular as she strode into the Coal Harbour Bar. A pale face with unnaturally intense eyes. A man in his thirties—at least when he had been turned—and definitely not Isao. Her heart jumped like a startled rabbit.
Garrett moved between Cassidy and this unexpected vampire. The stranger studied them before nodding toward the bar. She followed the look and spotted another man in a dark sweater, seated with his back to them. The neat black hair and perfect stillness were unmistakable.
Isao.
She nodded her acknowledgment to the strange vampire and moved in Isao’s direction. So the samurai had brought reinforcements. Aside from being momentarily frightened out of her mind, she felt safer already.
As Cassidy approached, Isao turned from the untouched glass of brew on the bar and the hockey game on the large screen TV. His dark, almond-shaped eyes lingered on each of their faces in turn.
“Mr. Kiyomori?”
“Call me Isao,” he said with an air of great formality and got to his feet to present a small bow. “How may I be of service, my lady?”
She took a relieved breath. This was going to be easier than she expected. Or far more complicated, she amended when she saw Isao’s nostrils flare. His eyes widened slightly, and Cassidy realized the mistake she had made. Dominique wasn’t the only vampire who could smell her condition, which Isao clearly just had.
“Have you heard from Dominique?” she said before he could say anything she preferred he didn’t.
“No, my lady, I have not.”
“Do you expect to?” Garrett asked.
Isao looked at Garrett with renewed interest.
“Mr. Striker is my daytime security detail,” Cassidy introduced to cover the awkward moment.
“I know who he is,” Isao murmured in a way that left no doubt about what all he knew. “I expect Dominique to contact me when he returns to the city sometime tonight.” He held out his hand to Garrett, who hesitated only a second before taking it with the solid grip she imagined typical of professional hit men. “We should coordinate, you and I.”
“We should,” Garrett agreed.
“Perhaps you can coordinate on finding out where Dominique is,” Cassidy suggested, struggling to keep the testiness out of her voice.
“Have you not heard from him, my lady?”
“Not even a whisper since early this morning.”
“We can’t reach him or Jackson on their phones either,” Garrett added.
“They’re in trouble. I know they are.”
Isao thought for a moment. “Possibly.”
“Excuse me?”
“If Adilla were to encounter Dominique, one of three things would happen. One is that Adilla would kill Dominique, another that Dominique would kill Adilla. In either scenario, I would be dead.”
“Makes sense,” Garrett agreed. “They’re both alive, and Jackson hopefully, too.”
“And the third thing?” Cassidy pushed, knowing already she wouldn’t like the answer.
“The third potential outcome is that they’re at a stalemate, with one holding control over the other,” Isao said carefully.
“Shit,” Garrett muttered.
Cassidy was the one to say it out loud. “So since we haven’t heard anything, we’re assuming that it’s Adilla who holds the upper hand?”
“It would appear so.”
Her chest tightened around her lungs. Suddenly she could hardly draw enough air to speak, and when she did, she sounded like she was wheezing instead of issuing commands. “Then what are you waiting for? Get on the road and help him.”
