16

John looked at Savannah’s tearstained eyes. His heart had almost stopped when he’d seen the thug trying to drag Savannah into the van to abduct her. He’d arrived at the same time as the kidnappers, which was good timing, as it meant that neither Savannah nor the kidnappers had heard his car engine. He’d already switched off his headlights before he’d stopped the car. His superior vampire vision had allowed him to drive without the lights, once he’d entered the park—just as the sun had set.

“When I couldn’t reach you, I broke into your flat and found the kidnapper’s note.”

“Why did you come?”

“I had to make sure you were safe. I was fully prepared to watch without interfering. I didn’t want to put you or Buffy in danger, but when I saw that thug toss you into the van, I had to act. I knew then that Buffy wasn’t inside.”

He noticed her swallow hard, then she continued, “I think I know who’s behind this.”

Surprise shot through him. “You do?”

“Alexi, my employee. You read the note, you saw what it said—not to involve you, my private investigator. Alexi knew that I’d hired you. In fact, I think he’s the only one who knew. I hadn’t said anything to my neighbor or to Elysa or the teachers. Yet the kidnapper knew. It has to be Alexi. He would also have the technical knowledge to watch me constantly. That’s why I couldn’t contact you.” The words fairly tumbled over her lips, while her chest heaved. “We have to follow him. He’ll lead us to Buffy.”

John contemplated her words for a moment. He’d had the same suspicion. “I’ve got two men on his tail already. They’re under orders not to let him out of their sight. I spoke to them less than an hour ago. Alexi was in Glen Park at the time.”

She shifted in her seat. “That’s plenty of time to get to Stern Grove.”

“The kidnappers wore masks. Did they speak?”

She nodded, then her shoulders dropped. “Alexi has a strong accent. Both of those guys sounded American.” She let out a breath. “But that doesn’t mean anything. He could have hired them to do his dirty work, while he kept watch on Buffy.”

It was a possibility. John nodded, but decided not to tell Savannah that Damian had seen Alexi purchase duct tape and a rope. “Let me check in with my guys to see where Alexi is now.” He pulled out his cell, and instead of letting the call go via the hands-free speaker system in the car, he brought the cell phone to his ear and waited for Damian to pick up.

“Hey, John.”

“Damian, any news? Where’s Alexi now?”

“At home.”

“You sure?”

“I’m right outside his place. Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Did he stop off somewhere on his way home?”

“Actually, he went across the street from his place and knocked at a neighbor’s door.”

“Did he go in?”

“No. Just handed the old man the shopping bag.”

“With the stuff he bought in Glen Park?”

“Yep. The old dude thanked him and gave him the money for it.”

The rope and duct tape were a dead end. But that didn’t mean that Alexi was off the hook yet. He could still be involved. “Stay on him. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay.”

John disconnected the call and looked at Savannah. “Alexi is at home. No sign of Buffy or of him having contact with anybody that could lead us to her.” For a split-second he thought about the old man Alexi had given the rope and duct tape to. Could he be holding Buffy for him? It was a possibility, but Damian had mentioned that the old man had paid Alexi for the purchase, and he wouldn’t have done so if he was Buffy’s jailor.

Savannah turned her head and looked out the passenger side window. In the reflection of the glass he saw the effort with which she kept herself together, the energy it cost her to stay strong in the face of this setback.

He was glad that they were turning into her street now, and even more relieved when he saw somebody pull out of a parking spot outside Savannah’s condo. John took the spot and brought the car to a stop.

Before he opened the car door, he looked around using his mirrors. He’d done the same while they’d driven to her place, but hadn’t noticed anybody following them. And he was trained to notice. It was safe. For now.

John exited the car and walked around to the passenger side to help Savannah out. When they reached the front door, she stared at it for a moment then looked up at him. “I don’t know what happened to my handbag. I must have lost it in the struggle.”

“It’s okay.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his lock pick again. Within seconds, the door was open. He ushered her inside.

“You do this a lot?”

He shrugged and closed the door behind them. “Comes with the job.”

She didn’t smile, her facial expression one of pain and resignation. When he followed her up the stairs into her flat, he noticed her favoring her left side, pressing a hand to the ribs on her right side. She was still hurting, though she put on a brave face.

He knew what it felt like to put on a brave face. He’d done that too after Nicolette’s death, when he’d lain there in a dark room in Cain’s palace for a week to recover from his severe burns. Fresh human blood had seen him through the worst and aided his healing process. But it hadn’t soothed his emotional wounds. He saw both in Savannah now: the physical and the emotional pain. He could do nothing for the latter, but he had a way of healing the former.

In her flat, he led her to the living room and made her sit on the couch.

“I think you need a drink,” he said. “Red wine?”

She nodded and was about to get up, when he pressed her back down gently.

“In the kitchen?”

She looked up at him, a grateful expression in her eyes. “On a shelf underneath the island.”

“I’ll get it.”

He walked to the kitchen and found the bottle, opened it and poured half a glass. Then he glanced down the hallway, assuring himself that Savannah hadn’t left the living room. She hadn’t. He brought his hand to his lips, extended his fangs and pricked the pad of his thumb. When blood oozed from the tiny wound, he held his thumb over the glass and let it drip into the red wine. He squeezed his thumb, causing the blood to flow more freely. Then he brought his thumb to his lips again and licked over the incision. His saliva closed it instantly, leaving neither a scar nor any sign that there’d ever been a wound. With his finger he mixed the liquid so the color of the wine hid the blood. Savannah wouldn’t be able to taste it; the quantity was too small, and the wine would mask its flavor.

Savannah still sat at the same spot where he’d left her, but was now holding the picture of Buffy in her hand. John stared at it, his heart breaking for the scared little girl in it. He felt like he knew her, though he’d never met her in person. But when he looked at her, all he wanted was to protect her. Protect her like his own.

John sat down next to Savannah and reached for the picture, while handing her the glass of wine. “Here, that will make you feel a little better.” It would, at least physically. Vampire blood had healing properties that humans responded to very quickly. It didn’t take much to take care of a few bruised ribs. “Drink,” he encouraged her softly, took the photo from her hand and placed it back on the coffee table.

Savannah took several sips, then a few more, as if she realized that the alcohol was helping calm her nerves. In truth, it was her body’s primal instinct to crave the healing vampire blood, without actually knowing it. It was nature, the perfect symbioses between the two species. Another yin to a yang. Because just like his vampire blood could heal her, her human blood could heal him.

A moment later she set the empty glass on the table and looked at him. “What now? What am I gonna do now? I gave them the money. Why didn’t they return Buffy to me? I don’t understand it. I followed the instructions.”

“I don’t understand it either.” He motioned to the kidnapper’s note. “This shouldn’t have happened. The ransom note. None of the other parents received one.”

“Then maybe Buffy’s disappearance isn’t connected to that of the other children. Maybe it’s personal. It must be Alexi. It has to be him.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to agree with her assumption, as if that would make everything alright.

He took her hands in his and squeezed them. “We don’t know that it’s him. But I agree that something isn’t right. They weren’t after the money. They were after you tonight. Why only ask for two-hundred-and-fifty thousand dollars when they could have asked for a million, knowing you had that kind of money in the bank?”

She drew back a little, stunned. “How do you know that?”

“I ran a background check on you. It’s standard. We do it with all our clients,” he explained, though he still felt as if he needed to apologize. “That’s how I learned that you took out a quarter of a million dollars today. Had I not seen that, I don’t think I would have realized something was wrong.”

She seemed to contemplate his words, then slowly nodded. “I understand.” She sniffled. “You think the money was just a pretense to get me to meet them?”

“Yes. They wanted to make sure you were alone. They knew you wouldn’t risk Buffy’s safety.”

“But why? If Alexi wanted to kidnap me, there are easier ways. He knows where I live, he knows my routine.”

“We have to consider that it’s not Alexi, though, believe me, I’m not discounting him entirely. But there’s something else going on. And I’m going to figure out what it is. Buffy’s disappearance is connected to the other children. I can sense it.” And his instincts were rarely wrong.

Savannah pressed one hand to her mouth, choking back a sob. “I don’t want to believe that. I just don’t.” New tears welled up in her eyes. “Because believing that she’s been taken by a child trafficking ring means the chances of ever seeing her again, of ever holding her again…” A sob choked off her words. But he still knew what she was thinking. That she would never see Buffy again.

It hurt him to see her like this, to see her lose hope. He gripped her shoulders. “Please, Savannah, trust me. I will bring Buffy back to you. I know I will.” He had leads. Alexi was one of them. The strange smell on the ransom note was something else he could follow up on. And maybe the license plate of the van would lead to something after all.

“I want to believe you. I do. But I miss her. I miss her so much.” Her hands clung to his jacket now as if she needed to hold onto something to keep herself from collapsing. “I’m scared for her. I’m so scared. She’s everything I have.”

He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I know what she means to you. That’s why I’ll get her back for you. I’ll work tirelessly until she’s back in your arms. Until she’s safe again.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Savannah’s head.

It felt good to have Savannah in his arms, to know she was safe now. “When I saw that man drag you into the van, my heart stopped.” He rubbed one hand over her back, while the other found its way to her nape, without him directing it. As if the need to feel her skin, her warmth was just too strong to resist.

Savannah suddenly lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes still wet with tears. But there was something else in them, too. Awareness. Awareness of him, of him touching her, holding her. He should have released her in that instant, should have risen and moved away from her as far as he could, but he didn’t.

“You saved me,” she murmured. Her lips were red and wet with her tears.

He could smell the salt, wanted to taste it too. He knew he shouldn’t. Nevertheless, he dipped his head toward her face. “You have to stop me.”

She didn’t honor his plea, didn’t pull back. Did she want this? Maybe even need this? To feel close to another being so she would know that she wasn’t alone? He tried to justify what he was about to do by answering yes to those questions, when he knew, or at least suspected, why she wasn’t putting up any resistance. It was the vampire blood in her. Even though the quantity was small, to a human unaccustomed to it, it was potent. It couldn’t really make her do anything she absolutely didn’t want to do, but together with the alcohol she’d downed so quickly, it was the perfect mixture to loosen anybody’s inhibitions. If those inhibitions had even previously existed. From Savannah’s response to his kiss the previous night, he knew that she didn’t carry around a lot of inhibitions with regard to physical love.

As for his own restraints, he had none left, not after what had nearly happened tonight. He could have lost her. And that thought was the straw that broke the vampire’s back.

“Savannah, please,” he groaned in a last attempt to make her push him back and reject his advances, when he knew it was useless.

He knew it was happening. And this time it wouldn’t end with just one kiss.