Page 61
Story: My Mr. Vampire
“This is scaring the shit out of me. I want to leave. We need to tell Zand.”
“Not yet. We need more information.” I held her closer as the song changed again. “If we go to Zand now, he’ll lock Chanel away, maybe move her to a different location. But we won’t know exactly what they’re up to.”
“And you think hanging around this stupid club watching a cartel meeting is going to give us that information?” Morgan’s voice dripped with skepticism. “This is dangerous, Harlen.”
“I’m a vampire and I can take three humans. I need to get closer so I can hear what they’re saying.”
Morgan grabbed my arm, digging her nails in deep. “No. That’s insane. They’ll notice you.”
She was right, of course. These weren’t regular people. These were cautious criminals. Marisol would notice a strangerlingering too close to her private conversation. I needed another approach.
“You need to report this to that scary blonde security lady that works for Zand.”
I nodded reluctantly. “I know. I just want to see if Teresa comes back.”
“Comes back. Was she here earlier?”
“Yes. I need to see if there’s any direct interaction between her and Marisol.”
Morgan moaned. “Fuck that shit. I’m not a vampire. I don’t even have my gun.”
“What gun?” I asked. Did Morgan have a gun?
She ignored my question. “I know Marisol and her people are strapped. Get, me, the fuck, out of here. Now.”
Morgan glared into my eyes, and I instantly knew my time was up. She was right. I didn’t have a plan, and I didn’t want to put her life in danger. My suspicions could be wrong. I hoped this was a weird coincidence that Marisol and her cohorts were at the same club Teresa had frequented. I had something to prove to my brother, but this wasn’t the time and the place to do that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ZAND
My footsteps echoed against the silence as I entered my loft. I was home before sunrise, and Chanel was still asleep. As much as I wanted to spend more time with her, I felt like I had to go to The Castle every night. That was, at least until I took care of the threats against my people. I wanted things to go back to normal. I wanted my girl to feel safe.
The elevator doors shut behind me, but I sensed I wasn’t alone in the open space. There, hunched like a crow on the edge of my leather sofa, was Harlen. He was waiting for me. Why? What was so urgent?
“She didn’t see me.” He whispered. “But I saw her.” His face was grave, not at all like his normal fun and games expression.
Harlen’s unexpected seriousness overrode my physical and mental exhaustion. I dropped my keys on the table. My eyes moved back to Harlen. I stood there waiting for more.
“She?”
“Marisol Lopez.”
I nodded, more of a gesture of understanding than a greeting. “Well?” My single word hung in the air between us.
Harlen ran a hand through his hair. He glanced toward the steps that led upstairs to the bedrooms, ensuring our privacy. I sensed Chanel and Morgan’s sleeping presence, felt the thrum of their heartbeats.
“Where?” I asked.
“At Club Bailar Caliente. She was with two other Mexicans.”
“What? That’s the place Teresa was last spotted. That’s the place Natasha sent you to watch out for Teresa.”
“I know, and that’s what I did. I went inside and I saw Marisol sitting in the VIP section with two other people.”
“Who are these people?”
“I didn’t recognize them. They could be her family. She kept them close like security. Real close.” Harlen’s eyes were alert.
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