Seduced by the Night (13 page)

"There have been several attacks on my
fiancee
, the lab was broken into, and one of the assistants is missing. Every time something like this occurs, naturally, it disrupts the work and puts us behind schedule." He paused, eyeing the man across from him carefully. "I don't suppose you'd know anything about these attacks?"

"Me? No. Why would I know anything?"

Miles let it go. This client was not the usual pharmaceutical representative or law enforcement agent that he was used to dealing with and he had no idea what the man was capable of. Wanting to bring an end to the conversation, he stood up. "If that's all, I'm late for an important engagement. You see, I'm meeting my
fiancee
at
Nicolette's
for dinner tonight."

"Is that right?" The other man smiled politely as he pulled out a cell phone, but otherwise made no move to leave. "I'm afraid you'll have to miss it. But please, feel free to call her with your regrets. And if you'll excuse me, while you do that, I have a call of my own to make."

Bethany
couldn't keep her eyes off Dirk, walking beside her. He really did look spectacular in his dress clothes. Miles always said that clothes made a man, but he'd never looked like this, no matter how expensive his clothes. There was even a fluid grace to Dirk's movements that
Bethany
knew had nothing to do with clothing and everything to do with the finely honed athlete beneath.

As they moved across the parking lot, she risked another glance, only to snap her gaze away when she found him watching her. Grateful for the darkness that helped to hide her blush, she focused her attention on the building ahead.

Nicolette's
was an old house that had been converted into a restaurant. It was located in
Georgetown
, situated some distance from the road and surrounded by trees that gave it a feeling of privacy. And intimacy. Her traitorous thoughts returned to the man beside her and she grew all too aware of Dirk's hand at the small of her back, guiding her along as they walked. By the time they reached the entrance to the restaurant, her nerves were wound tight.

The maitre d' looked up when they stepped inside. "Miss
Stavinoski
, how nice to see you again," he gushed. "Mr. Van Home called earlier and your tables are ready. If you'll follow me, please?"

They were led to a
cozy
booth in a private corner of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry,"
Bethany
said. "There must be some mistake. This table doesn't look big enough for three."

The maitre d' merely smiled and gestured to another table a short distance away. "Mr. Van Home also had this one reserved."

Bethany
felt a flash of annoyance as she realized what Miles was trying to do. "This is
unaccept
—" Dirk's hand on her arm stopped her words in mid-protest.

"This will be fine," he said. He ushered her into the side of the booth facing the back of the room while he sat opposite her, a gleam in his eyes.

"I believe Mr. Van Home reserved this table for you," the maitre d' said curtly.

"I'm sure he did, but I've decided to sit here. Is that a problem?"

His tone made it clear that the only problem would be if the man tried to argue with him, and the maitre d', looking fretful but intelligent, offered a pained smile and called over the waiter, who took their drink orders.

Left alone,
Bethany
stared at Dirk, trying to figure him out. "You don't like him, do you?" she asked.

"Who? The waiter?"

She gave him a look. "Miles."

He picked up a menu and made a show of studying it, but she refused to let him ignore her. "Miles is a warm, caring man. He's smart, sophisticated—"

"Look." Dirk folded the menu and set it aside to look at her. "We've already had this conversation. The bottom line is—no, I don't like the guy. The Van Homes are old money. Growing up, I doubt the guy wanted for a single thing."

Something in the way he said the words told her that his childhood hadn't been the happiest. She wanted to ask him about it when her cell phone rang. Digging in her purse, she pulled out her phone.

"Hello?"

"Bethany, it's Miles. I'm sorry, my dear. I'm not going to make dinner tonight. Something unexpected has come up. Business. I hope you'll forgive me."

"Oh. Can't you get out of it? Please?"

"I'm afraid not. There's just no way. Are you already at the restaurant?"

"Yes."

"Did you come alone?" He sounded worried.

She glanced over at Dirk. "No."

There was a pause and she heard him sigh. "I need to go. We'll talk later, okay?"

"All right." She disconnected the call and put away her cell phone. "Miles won't be joining us," she told Dirk as she looked around. "Do you see our waiter? We should try to cancel our order."

"Why?"

His question surprised her. "Well, you don't want to really stay here and eat—do you?"

"Have you eaten here before?"

"Yes, Miles likes it, so we come here often."

"Is the food any good?"

"Well, yes."

"Great, then I don't see a problem. We have to eat anyway and we're already here. Why leave and go someplace else?"

She gave him a doubtful look. "This is a fondue restaurant. You don't strike me as the kind of man who eats a lot of fondue."

He shrugged. "Food's food. I'll give it a try and if we don't get enough to eat, we'll stop off and grab a burger on the way home. How's that?"

"Actually, that sounds really good."

That caused him to raise an eyebrow. "You a burger and fries girl?"

"I can't tell you how long it's been since I had a really great burger and hot, crisp French fries. Miles refuses to eat such 'common fare,' as he puts it." She shrugged, a little embarrassed to have shared that. "You know what they say—simple pleasures for simple minds."

He gave her an intense look. "There's nothing simple about you, Beth."

At that moment, the waiter appeared with their drinks and Dirk ordered a selection of meats and vegetables for two. When they were alone again,
Bethany
glanced around to make sure no one was within listening range before leaning forward slightly. "Tell me about vampires. We didn't get a chance to talk yesterday."

Dirk raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Start at the beginning. Where'd they come from? How'd you get involved? Is righting vampires something you do for the police? How long have you been doing it? What—?"

"Whoa, slow down," he said, chuckling. "First things first. I don't know how long vampires have been around, exactly, but the sword you saw earlier today was forged centuries ago to slay them, so they must have been around for at least that long. Here in the
United States
, though, I don't think any existed until six months ago."

"I don't understand. Isn't it a chicken and egg scenario? You have to have at least one vampire to create another."

"Not necessarily. Have you ever beard of El
Chupacabra
?"

"No, what's that?"

"It's the name of the creature that created the vampires we're dealing with today."

She waited for him to go on.

"A year ago, I hadn't heard of it either. The name, El
Chupacabra
, is Spanish for the goatsucker. Goats are the creatures' preferred food source—or rather the blood of the goats, because
chupacabras
live off blood. Until a year ago, they were considered to be like Bigfoot. Nothing more than the product of folklore—tales told at night around the campfire. There have even been sightings, but nothing that could ever be proven."

He glanced at her, maybe to see how she was reacting  to his story, but she kept her face blank, waiting for him to continue.

"About a year ago, the
U.S.
government found two creatures in the Amazon that they believed to be El
Chupacabras
. They called in a scientist to study them—a
cryptozoologist
, Dr. Clinton Weber.
Lanie's
father."

He took a swallow of his drink before continuing. "Weber studied them for several months and discovered that these creatures have hollow fangs and they inject their prey with venom while they are feeding—like a snake does. Weber thought the venom might prevent the blood from clotting while the
chupacabra
is feeding. Anyway, once the animal dies, end of story. Not so with humans. The venom has a strange effect on people and when the human dies, the venom somehow restores life to the corpse, and two nights later the victim rises as a vampire."

Bethany
sat very still, willing herself not to reject, out of hand, what he was telling her. He obviously took her silence as acceptance and went on.

"Of the two creatures found, one was an adult and the other was much younger. About six months ago, the adult
chupacabra
attacked and killed Dr. Weber and another man, Lance Burton. At that time, no one knew about the
chupacabra
-vampire connection. Two days later, Dr. Weber and
Burton
literally rose from the dead and killed the remaining members of their research team."

Bethany
gasped. "How awful." In her mind's eye, she saw an image of Mr.
Yarbro
, clutched close to the vampire's chest as it leaned forward, fangs buried in his neck. "Is that who's been after me?
Lanie's
father and this Lance Burton?"

"No. Dr. Weber was never a threat.
Burton
, on the other hand, was." He paused and for a moment
Bethany
thought he might not continue. "
Burton
was a former SEAL, along with me and Mac. In life, he was psychotic, but when he became a vampire, he was much worse. He came up with a plan to assassinate the President and to do that, he needed help. So he kidnapped the adult
chupacabra
and forced it to kill several other members of our former SEAL team—men who had been his close friends. In that way, he created his own special ops team of vampires. Mac and I killed all but two of them six months ago, including
Burton
, but I believe it's the two who escaped who are responsible for the attacks on you."

It was almost more information than
Bethany
could process, but there was one question above all others that she still wanted answered. "Why do they want me?"

"I'm not sure. I think they want to continue where
Burton
left off—only there aren't enough of them to wage an all-out physical assault. So instead, they're going for a biochemical assault. Germ warfare. And they need a biochemist."

Bethany
gasped. "What? That's unbelievable."

"It's the best theory I have right now," Dirk said.

"And, of all the biochemists in the area, they randomly selected me?"

Dirk's pointed silence caused a shudder to run through her. "I wasn't randomly selected?"

His features were grim when he spoke. "I did some checking. Van Home wasn't just bragging when he said you were the best in your field—and trust me, they'll need the best. Your being a woman was an added benefit. They probably thought you'd be easy to intimidate."

While
Bethany
digested this, the waiter arrived with  their food. As soon as he left, Dirk reached over and took her hand in his. "I won't let anything happen to you, okay? Now, let's try to enjoy the meal."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. The gesture was meant to be reassuring and shouldn't have sent warm shivers up and down her arms. She wondered if the contact had affected him, too, but his attention was focused on the array of bite-sized food and pots of cheese. He viewed them with obvious
skepticism
.

She used the opportunity to study him as he tentatively pierced a cube of bread and dipped it into the nearest fondue pot. Then he popped it into his mouth.

"Not bad," he said after he swallowed it.
Bethany
smiled. She'd always thought there was something inherently feminine about eating fondue, but Dirk pulled it off with such smooth, masculine confidence, it left her wondering what those hands could do under different circumstances.

She picked up her skewer and stabbed a vegetable piece, then dunked it into the cheese. As she lifted the food to her mouth, she felt Dirk's gaze on her. He made her feel self-conscious and she worried that she had cheese stuck to the corner of her mouth, or something equally ludicrous. She picked up her napkin and pressed it to her lips, just in case.

Across from her, Dirk was, once again, spearing another piece of steak and her attention was drawn to the hand holding the skewer. It was a strong hand, square and wide, with veins running across the back. She knew from the few times he'd touched her that his hands were slightly rough, with calluses, not smooth and soft, like
Miles's
hands were. Her gaze wandered to his thumb and she wondered if there was any truth to the old wives' tale about the size of a man's thumb and the size of his—