Kathryn was surprised he’d told her that much. She glanced over her shoulder. “My grandparents had horses, too,” she offered, and was rewarded with the most glorious smile.
“Well,
then .
. . it seems we’ve something in common,
a
cuisle
. You’ll have to
come
riding with me sometime.”
Kathryn’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. She didn’t know what he’d just called her, but she knew it crossed that invisible line between agent and witness. What was she doing? She wasn’t here to be romanced by Lucas
Donlon
, no matter how handsome and charming he was.
Lucas must have sensed that their moment of connection was over. He gave her an “
oh well”
kind of shrug, then stepped back a pace and studied the entire series of photographs. “I don’t know who took these.
Magda
found them for me. But the photographer has captured my homeland like no other I’ve ever seen.” He gestured at the images. “I’ll probably never live there again, so I’m grateful.”
Kathryn looked from her brother’s photographs to Lucas, trying to decide if he was genuine, or if he was playing her. But there was that comment about his grandfather between them, and his expression held such yearning as his gaze traveled from one photograph to the next, that she believed him.
“Then you should probably help me find him,” she said.
Lucas gave her a puzzled look. “Find whom?”
Kathryn tilted her head toward the photographs.
“The photographer.
Daniel Hunter.”
He regarded her blankly for a moment, then his eyes widened in surprise. “Your brother took these?” He grabbed one of the framed images from the wall and turned it over. Kathryn knew what he’d find. There was a label on the back with her brother’s name and contact information, as well as a statement of copyright.
Lucas read the label quickly, then turned the photograph over again and searched for a signature on the image.
“Lower left corner,” Kathryn said. “Very small, but it’s there.
Just his initials, D H.”
She watched his eyes as they traveled over the print and saw the moment he found what he was looking for. “Son of a bitch,” he swore softly. “Nicholas,” he said without turning. “Get
Magda
in here now.”
Kathryn heard Nicholas on the phone, but her attention was all for Lucas, who was staring at the photos with new interest.
“What is it?” she asked. “What do you see?”
“It’s not the prints,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “It’s where she bought them.”
“What do you mean? Daniel’s work is carried in a number of very fine galleries—”
“Yes, but what about
this
gallery?” he asked, rubbing a square tipped finger over the gallery’s name on the back label of the frame he still held.
“Which one—” Her question was interrupted by the opening of the door. Lucas held up his hand, asking Kathryn to wait as he turned to address
Magda
.
“Maggie,” he began, and she saw the woman’s expression tighten with irritation at the nickname. She would have found that intriguing if she hadn’t been far more interested in Lucas’s reaction to her brother’s photographs. “These photographs,” he continued, gesturing with one hand. “The gallery owner is Carmichael, right?”
“Yes, my lord,”
Magda
said, clearly puzzled by the question. “He has a small gallery in
Minneapolis
, but I believe he brought these from his main gallery in
Chicago
, because he thought you’d enjoy them.”
She saw a knowing look pass between Lucas and
Magda
and knew there was something they weren’t telling her.
Something about
Carmichael
?
“Why is
Carmichael
important?” Kathryn demanded. “What does it matter where you bought them?”
Donlon
shrugged and hung the photograph back on the wall. “It occurs to me that he might be an admirer of your brother’s work. Admiration can sometimes turn to obsession.”
“You think
Carmichael
kidnapped Daniel?” she asked, doubtfully. “My brother’s a big guy, taller than I am, and very athletic. He wouldn’t be easy to grab.”
“Don’t be naïve, Kathryn. Even the strongest man can be taken down by the addition of any number of available drugs to his drink. And your witness did say Daniel left the bar with someone. Perhaps it only had the appearance of willingness.”
“But the witness also said the man was a vampire.”
“Perhaps he was wrong about that, or perhaps your brother didn’t actually leave with the person he saw.”
Kathryn studied his too handsome face, trying to determine whether he was telling her the whole truth. But she might as well have tried to read a statue. Lucas stared back at her with nothing more than a vaguely puzzled expression, as if he couldn’t figure out what
her
problem was.
“All right,” she said at last. “What time Friday night can we visit this vampire bar?”
“If you want to get a feel for the place, it will have to be late. What do you think, Nicholas?” he asked, turning to his lieutenant. “Eleven o’clock?”
Nicholas nodded.
“On a Friday, yes, my lord.”
Lucas swung back to her with a pleased grin. “It’s a date then. Eleven o’clock on Friday. Shall I pick you up?”
“No,” she said immediately. This was
not
a date, no matter what he said. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Very well.”
He sighed, as if disappointed. “But do wear something appropriate.”
She frowned and glanced down at her white blouse and dark blue pants.
“If you want to get information,
a
cuisle
, you can’t walk in there looking like you’re about to raid the place.”
“Of course,” she said dismissively, as if she’d already considered that. And she was sure she would have.
Eventually.
Damn it. Damn
him.
She’d have to go clothes shopping, because the raciest thing she’d brought with her was a cotton tank top.
Lucas winked conspiratorially, as if he knew what she was thinking.
Kathryn scowled. She’d clearly gotten off on the wrong foot with Lucas
Donlon
. “But we’re meeting again tomorrow night, right?
Same time as tonight?
And you’ll speak to your people?”
“I shall count the hours, Agent Hunter.”
The urge to punch him was growing stronger.
Anything to wipe that satisfied smirk from his face.
But she had a feeling he was hoping for just that, so she turned and strode out of the office instead.
“Kathryn,”
Donlon
called just before she reached the door.
She gritted her teeth, but managed to turn around and inquire politely, “Mister
Donlon
?”
“Do you ride?”
Kathryn frowned in confusion.
“Ride?
You mean horses?”
Donlon
gave her a knowing wink, but had enough grace to say only, “Well, yes.”
“It’s been a while,” she said, her face hot with embarrassment as she belatedly realized the obvious innuendo in her words. “The grandparents I told you about died when I was very young, and their place was sold.” And why the hell was she telling him that?
“Excellent. Wear some jeans tomorrow night, then. You do own a pair of jeans, don’t you?”
Kathryn narrowed her eyes in irritation.
“Of course.
But why—”
“You’ll see.”
She stared at him, tempted to tell him where he could shove his cryptic comments, but then she remembered her brother and swallowed whatever she’d been about to say. She couldn’t come up with anything nice to replace it, however, so she simply turned on her heel and strode out into the hallway where
Magda
was waiting to escort her.
* * * *
Lucas leaned back in his chair and watched the lovely FBI agent storm gently from his office. She was good at concealing her emotions, good at keeping them from showing on her face, anyway. But he was Vampire. He didn’t need her face to tell him what she was feeling. And she was pissed as hell. Not at having her bluff called about the missing man being her brother. She’d clearly expected that, if perhaps not so soon. Mostly, she was pissed because she couldn’t figure out what to make of Lucas himself. She was attracted to him, though. She didn’t want to be, but she was. No denying that. Her arousal had been subtle, and she’d fought against it, but it was there.
Especially to a vampire’s senses.
He frowned briefly.
“You ever bed a cop, Nick?” he asked idly, listening to Kathryn’s and
Magda’s
footfalls fade down the tiled hallway.
With the FBI agent safely away and no longer even a potential threat to his Sire, Nicholas flopped down on the same visitor chair Kathryn had occupied moments before.
“Just one.”
Lucas focused on his lieutenant, one eyebrow raised in question.
“You remember Sandi Hager, down in
Kansas City
?”
“Sandi?
I thought you were seeing her sister?”
“I was.” Nick shrugged. “Turns out the ladies didn’t mind sharing, if you know what I mean.”
“Shit.” Lucas laughed. “Those were some big women, Nick. You’re lucky they didn’t drain you dry.”
“Who says they didn’t? Worth every minute of it, though.” He grinned,
then
asked carefully, “You thinking about the FBI agent, my lord?”
Lucas tapped a finger idly on the chair of his arm.
“Pretty lady.
Great legs, world class ass, too.
Must be a runner.”
“Yeah,” Nick said thoughtfully,
then
stiffened when Lucas shot him a hard look. “Not my type, though.
Nope.”
Lucas stared at him a moment longer, then sat up. “Is Judy still working with Nightshade down below?” Judy was his head horse trainer, a human who’d been with him since he’d first bought this ranch more than fifty years ago. Judicious doses of Lucas’s blood kept her from aging, so Lucas didn’t have to look for a new trainer every generation. Most of the people working in Lucas’s stables were vampires, but horses were prey animals, and while there were plenty of prey animals who’d evolved to use the darkness for safety, horses weren’t among them. They needed sunlight, and that meant someone had to be there to supervise and work with them during the day, especially the foals.
“Far as I know,” Nick said, answering Lucas’s question about the young stallion.
“Good. Let’s get down there. I need to talk to Kurt about Daniel Hunter and see what he knows.”
* * * *
Kathryn followed
Magda’s
swaying hips down the hallway, wondering how the woman managed to walk on those heels without breaking an ankle. She had nothing against high heels. In fact, she appreciated the way they made her already long legs look even longer. But if she wore stilettos like those, she doubted she could stay upright. Not to mention, she’d tower over most everybody she met. And fuck Lucas
Donlon
for making her feel like a drab worker drone.
Jesus! Where the hell had that thought come from? She didn’t give a rat’s ass what
Donlon
thought about anything, much less how she dressed. Granted, he was a sexy guy. Okay, probably the sexiest guy she’d ever met. But he was a vampire! He wasn’t a guy at all. It was just her hormones reacting to his good looks. Maybe if she got out more, she wouldn’t go all vaporous at the sight of a good-looking man,
er
,
vampire
. She had to remember that.
Vampire.
Magda
led her directly to the front door and opened it. “Was there anything else you needed, Special Agent Hunter?”
Kathryn studied the female vamp. The question had been polite enough, but the tone had been something else altogether, and the subtext was clear: good-bye, and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out. And wasn’t that interesting? She thought about Lucas and his comment that admiration was only a short step from obsession. Her brother Daniel was very good-looking and charming as hell. Women loved him and, even more, wanted to
take
care of
him. If
Magda
had been the one who chose the
photographs .
. . Kathryn knew it was a long shot, but went for it anyway.