"Lissa, don't you want a night off?" Tony watched as I pulled pieces of chicken out of a skillet. He hadn't come in until nearly ten and I hadn't tried to call him.
"I thought you wanted chicken," I said, turning off the burner. I'd even made cookies.
"I do, but I was going to take you out tonight."
"Then put the chicken in the fridge," I said. Yes, I was a little upset. If you wanted a date, it was good to call ahead of time.
"No, it smells too good to just stuff it in the fridge."
He ate while I watched the late news. No more reports on missing kids, at least. The ones still missing were very likely dead. I held no hope that any of them might be found alive. "Tony, have you paid any attention at all to those children missing in Great Britain?" I asked after a while.
"No. The Metropolitan Police are in on it, I hear."
"The ones that everybody calls Scotland Yard?"
"One and the same," he replied with a terse nod.
"Then that means there are disappearances in London, too." I mulled that over a little.
"I'd take that and a hundred to the bank," Tony said. "This chicken is really good."
"I was a good cook," I said.
"Still are."
"I wish I could taste it," I grumbled.
"Do you want me to check on the disappearances in London?"
"Could you?" I was excited, now. Tony carried more clout than I ever would.
"I'll see what I can find. Don't you want some wine or anything, Lissy?"
"I'll just have to cough it up later. I don't like doing that if I don't have to."
"You can bite me again."
"Tony, no. Any blood you give away can make you weak. Don't go there. You need your strength."
"Tell me about your fiancé." He had a smile on his face after dipping into the mashed potatoes.
I blew out a breath. "What do you know about the Council?" I asked.
"White tells me they're the Vampire Government. He's also alluded to Enforcers and Assassins and says that those guys are the peace-keepers for the Council."
"Gavin is an Assassin," I sighed. "And old on top of that. Trust me—you don't want to get into a pissing or staring contest with him."
"I didn't think vampires pissed."
"Figuratively speaking," I said. "You wouldn't want to get into a fight with Winkler, either."
"Seen him in action?"
"Yeah." My voice was a little glum over that. He'd ripped Tate Briggs apart while I watched.
"Want to check out a couple of houses like we did in Atlanta?" Tony asked after I loaded dishes into the dishwasher.
"I don't seem to have anything else to do."
"Good." Instead of the Escalade, he drove his other vehicle—an Aston Martin. Tony drove crazy at times but Charles could outdo him easily.
"Have you ever wrecked anything?" I asked, holding onto the oh God handle as we drove through town.
"Once." He grinned. "Am I scaring you?"
"If you ever have a chance to ride with my friend Charles, ask me again after that," I said.
"Charles?" He was interested, now.
"Have you ever talked with Wlodek?"
"Yeah."
"Did somebody else answer the phone first?"
"Yeah."
"You've talked to Charles," I said.
"Drives fast, does he?"
"Honey, he gets to his destination ten minutes before he leaves," I said.
"What does he drive?"
"He calls it the Lizard King," I said. Tony screeched to a halt at a traffic light.
"He has a Wiesmann GT MF-5."
"If you say so," I said. "I was never much on cars. Merrill has a Maybach that he won't let me drive. And a Bentley, which I really like and don’t get to drive. Not to mention the Rolls, which, no surprise, I also don't get to drive."
"What does he let you drive, then?"
"The Range Rover. He thinks I'll do the least damage to that." Tony snickered.
"You are not supposed to be laughing, mister," I swatted him. The light turned, so we drove on. "I'll have you know, I had a clean driving record."
"I know," he agreed.
"Slime," I said.
"I work in the security business, baby. What do you expect?"
"More sympathy and tact," I informed him. "Besides, you shouldn't speak ill of the dead."
"The rock band?"
"Now see, that's just totally disrespectful," I said. We pulled up in front of a building. Tony had a key—big surprise.
"We've already gone through and pulled out evidence," he said as we walked inside. It looked like a business of sorts, containing a desk with a phone (unplugged) a copy machine, chairs, corkboards on the walls, that sort of thing. What hit me when I walked in however, were the scents.
"The vampire I killed the other night was in here—a lot," I said, turning to look at Tony. "I'm getting three humans; two more prominent than the other."
"Was there only one vampire?"
"That's all I'm getting." I nearly heaved a sigh of relief. I was afraid he had brothers and/or sisters. Which brought up a whole new train of thought—what if Saxom did turn females? That was scary.
"Come upstairs to the living quarters," Tony beckoned for me to follow so we walked down a narrow hall and found the stairs at the end of it. The living quarters on the second floor smelled just the same; no new people or vampires there.
"Did you find any bagged blood?" I asked.
"No."
"They're feeding off the population, then. Have any recent outbreaks of flu or flu-like symptoms?" Tony looked at me as if I'd lost my marbles for a minute before hauling out his cell.
"Check all the local clinics and hospitals," he barked at somebody who'd barely had time to say hello. "See if there's been an increase in the reports of some sort of flu or something." We waited.
"In Silver Spring," the voice said. That was Maryland, I knew.
"Any particular part?" he asked.
"Citywide," the voice—a female—replied. Tony shut the phone.
"Silver Spring has about seventy-five thousand, population-wise," he said, running a hand through his hair. At least he had hair to run his hand through. Nowadays, my wigs itched. "Why flu-like symptoms? What are we looking for, here?"
"If you drain out the blood, the donor feels weak. Depending on how much is taken, you might feel poorly for a day or two, particularly since you didn't know you donated blood."