What could possibly explain any of that?
Distant police sirens wailed from someplace outside, the steady whine seeming on the approach to the clinic's section of the city. Tess heard them, and so did the psycho-ward escapee holding her hostage. He cocked his head slightly, his whiskey-colored eyes never leaving her for a second. He smiled wryly, just the barest curve of his broad mouth, then cursed low under his breath.
"Sounds like your boyfriend phoned in some backup."
Tess was too anxious to answer, uncertain what might provoke him now that he knew the authorities were on the way.
"Brilliant way to f**k up an evening," he growled, seemingly to himself. "This isn't the right way to leave things between us, but right now it doesn't appear I have much choice."
His hand came up near Tess's face. She flinched to evade his touch, expecting the crush of a hard fist or some other brutality. But she felt only the warm press of his large open palm against her forehead. He leaned in to her, and she felt the feather-soft brush of his lips against her cheek. "Close your eyes," he murmured.
And Tess's world went dark.
"No signs of any suspicious activity, folks. We checked all points of entry around the building, and everything looks tight and in order."
"Thank you, Officer," Tess said, feeling like an idiot for creating all the fuss at such a late--or, rather, early--hour.
Ben stood next to her in her office, his arm slung lightly around her shoulders in a protective, if a bit territorial, stance. He'd arrived a short while ago, not long after police sirens woke her out of an unusually deep sleep. She'd been working too late, evidently, and had dozed off at her desk. Somehow, she had knocked the phone and activated the speed dial for Ben's cell. He'd seen the clinic number come up on caller ID and worried that she was in some kind of trouble.
His subsequent three A.M. call to 911 sent two officers out to the clinic on a drive-by.
While they had not found any cause for alarm as far as break-ins or late-night intruders, they did find Shiva. One of the cops had questioned them on where the tiger had come from, and when Ben insisted that he'd found the animal, not stolen it, the officer was quietly skeptical. He allowed that with it being Halloween night, advertising mascots were unusually high targets for adolescent mischief, a fact that Ben was quick to assure him must have been the case with Shiva.
Ben was lucky he hadn't ended up in handcuffs. As it stood, he'd gotten off with a warning and a stern suggestion that he return Shiva to the gun shop first thing in the morning, just so nobody got the wrong idea and wanted to press charges.
Tess slid from under the weight of Ben's arm and held her hand out to the officer. "Thanks again for coming by here. Can I get you some coffee or hot tea? I've got both, and it will only take a few minutes to make it."
"No, thank you, ma'am." The policeman's comm device gave a short burst of static, followed by a coded string of new orders from Dispatch. He spoke into a mic clipped to his lapel, giving the all-clear on the veterinary clinic. "Looks like we're all set here, then. You folks take care now. And, Mr. Sullivan, I trust that you'll get that tiger back where it belongs."
"Yes, sir," Ben agreed, his smile tight as he accepted the officer's hand and gave it a brief shake.
They walked the police to the door and watched as the squad car eased out onto the quiet city street.
When they were gone, Ben closed the clinic door and turned to face Tess. "You sure you're okay?"
She nodded, gave a long sigh. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. I'm sorry I worried you, Ben. I must have fallen asleep at my desk and bumped the phone."
"Well, I still say no good can come from you working such late hours. This isn't exactly the best part of town, you know."
"I've never had any problems here."
"There's always a first time," Ben said, his expression grim. "Come on, I'll take you home." "All the way to the North End? You don't have to do that. I'll just call a cab."
"Not tonight, you won't." Ben picked up her purse and held it out to her. "I'm wide awake, and my van is right outside. Let's go, Sleeping Beauty."
Chapter Six
Dante came off the elevator at the Breed warriors' compound, looking and smelling as foul as he felt. He'd been seething--mostly at himself--the entire ride down, some three hundred feet below one of Boston's most affluent addresses and the high-security gated mansion on street level that belonged to the Order. He'd made it inside with only a few minutes to spare before dawn crested over the city to put a nice toast on his UV-allergic skin.
Which would have been the perfect topper to a night that had FUBAR written all over it.
Dante headed down the stark white corridor that twisted and turned through the heart of the labyrinthine compound. He needed a hot shower and some shut-eye and looked forward to sleeping off the daylight hours alone in his private quarters. Maybe he'd sleep off the next twenty years, long enough to avoid dealing with the glorious mess he'd made topside tonight.
"Yo, D."
Dante muttered a curse under his breath when he heard the voice calling him from the other end of the corridor. It was Gideon, resident computer genius and right-hand man to Lucan, the Order's venerable leader. Gideon had the compound wired tight inside and out; he'd probably been on to Dante's arrival from the second he stepped onto the property.
"Where you been, man? You were supposed to call in your status hours ago."
Dante turned around slowly in the long hallway. "I guess you could say my status got a bit f**ked up."
"No shit," the other vampire replied, taking him in with a shrewd glance over the top of square-cut pale blue shades. He chuckled, shaking his spiky crown of blond hair. "Gad, you look like hell. And you smell like toxic waste. What the devil happened to you?"