She punched in the ignition code, glad that she remembered it, and pulled away from the curb. She had never driven anything as expensive or anything that handled so easily. No wonder he loved this car, she thought, it practically drove itself.

She pulled up in front of her apartment a short time later. Exiting the car, she retrieved her purse and her luggage, locked the door, and made her way across the sidewalk toward the entrance of her building.

The manager stood near the curb, watering the yard. He was a kindly old man, always admonishing her to find a nice young man and settle down.

He smiled as she approached. "Miss Delaney," he said. "I haven't seen you in donkey's years. I was beginning to worry about you."

"No need, Mr. DeLuca, I'm fine. I was called away on an emergency."

"Oh, right! I don't know where my head is these days. Miss Polly told me she was collecting your mail. I hope it wasn't anything serious that called you away."

"No, it was just a… a personal matter that needed my attention," she said, wondering what he would think if he knew he had a werewolf living in his building. Would he evict her?

"Oh, I fixed that broken window," Mr. DeLuca said.

"Broken window?"

"On the north side of the apartment. I replaced it while you were gone. I hope you don't mind."

Regan frowned inwardly. Broken window? What broken window?

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"Ordinarily, I would have asked your permission before entering your apartment," Mr. DeLuca said apologetically, "but since I couldn't get ahold of you…"

"No, that's all right."

"You know I never intrude on my tenants."

She laid her hand on his arm. "Thank you for fixing it for me. I should have told her about it, but… I, uh, I was in a hurry when I left, and it was late. How's Mrs. DeLuca?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Doing much better. The doctor says she'll be up and around in no time at all."

"I'm glad." Evelyn DeLuca was a tiny woman, hardly bigger than a minute, and perhaps the clumsiest woman Regan had ever known. Mrs. DeLuca was forever breaking things, usually crockery, but her latest mishap had resulted in a broken leg. "Tell her hello for me."

"I'll do that."

Entering the lobby, Regan took the elevator to her floor, turned left, and walked down the hallway to her apartment, noting, as she did so, that Mr. DeLuca had painted the hallway in her absence. The walls, once a rather stomach-churning shade of pea green, were now a pale and much more becoming shade of sky blue. She would have to remember to compliment him on his color choice.

Unlocking the door, she stepped inside and closed it behind her. For a moment, she just stood there, grateful to be home again.

Dropping her bags on the sofa, she glanced at the window Mr. DeLuca had replaced. No doubt it had been broken the night Santiago had confronted Vasile. She lifted a hand to the back of her head, thinking she was lucky to be alive.

Going into the kitchen, she filled a pitcher with water and then went from room to room, watering her wilted plants. When that was done, she returned to the kitchen. She decided on French toast and sausage for breakfast. It took only minutes to prepare. She put her plate on the table, poured herself a small glass of grapefruit juice and a cup of coffee, and then sat down. She ate slowly, savoring every bite. It felt good to eat without Santiago watching her every move, and yet she missed having him there.

He loved her.

She loved him.

With a sigh, she pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. Why, out of all the men she had known, did she have to fall in love with a vampire? Talk about star-crossed lovers!

Rising, she rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. She took a shower, washed her hair, and then slipped into an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts. She turned on the radio, found a station she liked, and then spent the next hour and a half dusting, vacuuming, and sweeping—ordinary tasks to keep her from thinking of an extraordinary man.

It worked, until she changed the sheets on her bed, remembering that his were black satin, remembering that she had spent the night in his arms.

She pushed the memory away, gathered her dirty sheets, and shoved them in the washer.

Needing a distraction, she called Michael.

He answered the phone on the second ring. "Reggie! It's about time. How are you? Where are you?"

"I'm fine, Mike. I'm home. Anything new?"

"Nada. Things have been as quiet as a tomb."

She grimaced at his choice of words. "Thank God."

"Yeah. Whoever the killer is, he seems to have left town."

"For good, I hope," she said fervently.

"Yeah. Listen, I'm off duty tonight. How about dinner?"

She hesitated a moment, doubts running through her mind. She was a werewolf now. What if Michael suspected? No, that was silly. She looked the same as always. She knew Joaquin wouldn't like it, but he didn't need to know.

"Reggie?"

She took a deep breath. "Sure. What time?"

"Six? Six-thirty."

"All right. I have some errands to run before then. Why don't I meet you at Mr. Charlie's?" It was a small cafe on the other side of town, favored by cops and others in law enforcement of one kind or another.

"Okay by me. See you then."

"All right."

"And Reggie?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you."

She hesitated a moment before replying, "Me, too, you. See you at six-thirty."

Regan stared at the phone in her hand, wondering what Santiago would say if she told him she had a date, and then she shook her head. She didn't have to tell him anything. Even though he had said he loved her, even though she loved him, that was as far as it went. Try as she might, she just couldn't see any kind of future for the two of them. She was a werewolf. He was a vampire. She lived by day. He lived by night. She was going to find Vasile and destroy him and when she did, she wouldn't be a werewolf anymore. Joaquin would always be a vampire.

Vasile. She had no idea where he was or how to find him. But she would.

She spent the rest of the day pretending nothing in her life had changed. She did her laundry. She picked up her overdue cleaning and then went grocery shopping, wondering all the while what people would think and say and do if they knew there was a werewolf in their midst.

Returning home, she went into the kitchen to put her groceries away, surprised to find that she had bought mostly meat instead of the fruits, vegetables, and whole wheat bread that once made up most of her normal diet.




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