you?â He bent closer to inspect the body, but as he did so, the smell of the blood pulled at his demon to come out and feed.
He heard a growl from behind him and looked up. Meghan was also transforming.
âControl it, love. Thereâs nothing here for us tonight,â he said, calling back his own demon. Judging from the lack of blood on the ground beside the corpse, this vampire had been drained dry.
âWe need to get Ryder and Diego,â she said as she raced back toward the restaurant.
âThatâs right. Call in the cavalry, âcause thereâs no hero here,â he muttered to no one. Then he rose and searched out the area around the garbage cans.
The slightest scent, like some kind of spice, teased his nose as he walked away from the garbage cans and toward where the alley opened onto the street. At that opening, he sniffed deeply, smelling the scent again, but he couldnât recognize the aroma.
Peering from one end of the street to the other, hesearched for anything out of the ordinary or the source of that aroma, but there was nothing in sight. Whatever had savaged the dead vampire was obviously long gone.
He headed back toward the restaurant, sparing but a glance at the body as he passed.
Whatever had done this killing had been one major nasty, he decided.
Â
âSo you say you sawââ
âSomething big and white-haired hopping away,â Blake finished. âHippity hop, like the Easter Bunny.â
Diego glared at him and then glanced at Meghan.
She shrugged. âI didnât see it.â
âDid you hear or feel anything out of the ordinary?â Ryder asked, laying a hand on her shoulder in order to comfort her.
Meghan hadnât been able to forget the feeling from the night the two vampires had killed each other. That preternatural pulse that had beat against her vampire senses had indelibly registered in her brain. She hadnât felt anything like that energy until they had been right on top of the body. Then there had been the remnant ofâ¦evil. Slimy, like an oil slick against a pristine shore.
âI feltâ¦something wicked, but not supernatural wicked, I donât think. Mortal malevolence maybe, but that doesnât make sense, does it? This was a vampire attack, right?â
Ryder dropped his hand from her shoulder, paced back and forth for a moment before facing Blake. âNeither of you fed from this vampire?â
âNot a drop left in the poor sod.â
Diego shook his head. It was clear he had been ripped from either rest or something more pleasurable. His shirt was wrinkled and didnât quite match the pants he wore. Diego was always sartorially splendid, and Meghan suspected that he and his lover, Ramona, had been otherwise engaged when she had called him.
âDiego?â she prompted now, growing concerned that neither of the older vampires nor Blake seemed to have a clue as to what had happened to the dead vampire in the alley.
Blake clearly sensed her upset. He had taken no action to calm her, sensing she might rebuff any overture he made. He had been standing across the way from her, sandwiched between the two other men, almost as if they wanted to keep him from her. He finally stepped from between them and came to her side. Touching her forearm tentatively, he said, âDonât worry, love. Weâll figure out what nasty did this.â
Meghan thought about the rumors that another, stronger demon had been responsible for causing the earlier deaths. âCould it have been the same demon that made those two vamps feed to death?â she asked.
âUnlikely,â he said, and Ryder and Diego echoed those sentiments.
âThis killing is distinct, Meghan,â Diego offered.
Ryder jumped in with âDifferent M.O.â
Blake chuckled. âLittle woman is rubbing off on you, Ryder. Maybe you could get her to give us some FBI assistance.â
Hesitation crept into Ryderâs
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