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Authors: Alyssa Day
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Lara take your place at the townhouse.”
Twenty minutes later Phil pulled into a parking space close to Vanda’s apartment. He sprinted toward her building as the sun touched the horizon. Shit. He was too late.
He ran into the lobby and stopped at the security desk. The uniformed guard slouched in his chair, his body limp and his eyes closed.
Phil checked the guard’s pulse. Still alive. No sign of injury. He appeared to be in a deep sleep. Could be the result of vampire mind control. Max had beaten him here.
Phil paced in the elevator as it slowly ascended to the tenth floor. How could he have been so careless? He shouldn’t have slept at the townhouse. He should have camped out in front of Vanda’s door. He should have never left her side.
He’d let his lust scare her away. What a fool he was. If lust was all he felt for her, he wouldn’t be so frantic right now. His hands clenched into tight fists. If Max had hurt her—
The elevator door opened, and he charged down the hall to Vanda’s apartment. The door was locked, but that wouldn’t have stopped Max from teleporting in.
Phil kicked the door in. The interior was completely dark, all the windows covered with thick aluminum shutters. He flipped on the lights, half expecting to see bloodstains and piles of dead vampire dust.
The room was spotless. Undisturbed. But it was too soon to feel relieved.
He opened a door and turned on the lights. Cora Lee and Pamela Smythe-Worthing lay on twin beds, motionless in their death-sleep. There was no sign of struggle. The women were neatly tucked in, their hands clasped, their faces peaceful. They must have fallen into their death-sleep without knowing that Max had snuck in.
Phil went back to the living room. There was an odd pattern on the carpet, as if someone had vacuumed in a serpentine fashion. The path led straight to another door, which was slightly ajar.
Max had not come alone.
Phil pulled a knife from the sheath buckled to his calf, then slowly pushed the door open wide. Light from the living room spilled into the bedroom, illuminating Vanda’s bed. His skin chilled with a shudder.
Max’s fifteen-foot-long python was slowly coiling itself around Vanda’s motionless body.
Chapter Five
T
hat evening after sunset, Vanda’s heart jolted in her chest, bringing her back to life. A bright light overhead accosted her eyes, and her heart lurched a second time with alarm. She hadn’t left the lights on in her room. And what was this heavy thing across her waist?
She glanced to the side and gasped with a strangled-sounding squeak.
Phil jerked awake. “What is it?” In a second he was kneeling beside her with a knife in his hand.
“Phil!” Vanda scooted to the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you.” He slid the knife into a sheath under his khaki pants. He was dressed in his usual MacKay uniform, minus his shoes. “I must have dozed off.”
“In my bed?” She grabbed the sheet to pull it up to her chin, but dropped it when she noticed the sheets were white. What the hell? Her sheets had been purple when she’d gone to bed. And why did her body feel strangely sore, as if she’d been pummeled with brute force? “What—What’s going on? How did you get in here?”
“I…broke down the door.” He held up his hands when she took a deep breath to yell at him. “It’s okay! I had it fixed. Everything’s fine.”
“The hell it is!” She realized with a shock that she was wearing her green pajama top and shorts instead of the purple ones she’d gone to bed in. Good Lord, how desperate could Phil be? “You broke into my apartment to sleep with me?”
He snorted. “I did a lot more than sleep.”
“Oh my God!” She jumped out of bed.
“Oh, come on.” He rose to his feet with an indignant look. “You think I would have sex with you while you were sleeping?”
“I was dead, Phil. That makes it really creepy.”
He gave her an
Twenty minutes later Phil pulled into a parking space close to Vanda’s apartment. He sprinted toward her building as the sun touched the horizon. Shit. He was too late.
He ran into the lobby and stopped at the security desk. The uniformed guard slouched in his chair, his body limp and his eyes closed.
Phil checked the guard’s pulse. Still alive. No sign of injury. He appeared to be in a deep sleep. Could be the result of vampire mind control. Max had beaten him here.
Phil paced in the elevator as it slowly ascended to the tenth floor. How could he have been so careless? He shouldn’t have slept at the townhouse. He should have camped out in front of Vanda’s door. He should have never left her side.
He’d let his lust scare her away. What a fool he was. If lust was all he felt for her, he wouldn’t be so frantic right now. His hands clenched into tight fists. If Max had hurt her—
The elevator door opened, and he charged down the hall to Vanda’s apartment. The door was locked, but that wouldn’t have stopped Max from teleporting in.
Phil kicked the door in. The interior was completely dark, all the windows covered with thick aluminum shutters. He flipped on the lights, half expecting to see bloodstains and piles of dead vampire dust.
The room was spotless. Undisturbed. But it was too soon to feel relieved.
He opened a door and turned on the lights. Cora Lee and Pamela Smythe-Worthing lay on twin beds, motionless in their death-sleep. There was no sign of struggle. The women were neatly tucked in, their hands clasped, their faces peaceful. They must have fallen into their death-sleep without knowing that Max had snuck in.
Phil went back to the living room. There was an odd pattern on the carpet, as if someone had vacuumed in a serpentine fashion. The path led straight to another door, which was slightly ajar.
Max had not come alone.
Phil pulled a knife from the sheath buckled to his calf, then slowly pushed the door open wide. Light from the living room spilled into the bedroom, illuminating Vanda’s bed. His skin chilled with a shudder.
Max’s fifteen-foot-long python was slowly coiling itself around Vanda’s motionless body.
Chapter Five
T
hat evening after sunset, Vanda’s heart jolted in her chest, bringing her back to life. A bright light overhead accosted her eyes, and her heart lurched a second time with alarm. She hadn’t left the lights on in her room. And what was this heavy thing across her waist?
She glanced to the side and gasped with a strangled-sounding squeak.
Phil jerked awake. “What is it?” In a second he was kneeling beside her with a knife in his hand.
“Phil!” Vanda scooted to the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you.” He slid the knife into a sheath under his khaki pants. He was dressed in his usual MacKay uniform, minus his shoes. “I must have dozed off.”
“In my bed?” She grabbed the sheet to pull it up to her chin, but dropped it when she noticed the sheets were white. What the hell? Her sheets had been purple when she’d gone to bed. And why did her body feel strangely sore, as if she’d been pummeled with brute force? “What—What’s going on? How did you get in here?”
“I…broke down the door.” He held up his hands when she took a deep breath to yell at him. “It’s okay! I had it fixed. Everything’s fine.”
“The hell it is!” She realized with a shock that she was wearing her green pajama top and shorts instead of the purple ones she’d gone to bed in. Good Lord, how desperate could Phil be? “You broke into my apartment to sleep with me?”
He snorted. “I did a lot more than sleep.”
“Oh my God!” She jumped out of bed.
“Oh, come on.” He rose to his feet with an indignant look. “You think I would have sex with you while you were sleeping?”
“I was dead, Phil. That makes it really creepy.”
He gave her an
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