Be Mine Forever. Rosemary Laurey

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СКАЧАТЬ “My God!” Heather gasped as her sister finished. “If anyone else had told me that, I’d say they were making it up.”

      “You don’t think I am?”

      “No way! I’ve never known you tell a lie, and I heard how scared you were on the phone. I believe you. What do we do now? You think they’ll be after you?”

      That thought had never entered Elizabeth’s head. It should have. “I hope the hell not. I don’t want to drag you into this.”

      “Why not? I’m your sister, and my mom’s your mom too. How’s that for contacts?”

      “You believe in her skills now?”

      Heather gave a little snort. “That’s neither here nor there. She’s my mother. She has to help us. It’s in the mother–daughter rule book.”

      “Maybe we should talk to her.”

      Heather grinned. “Thought you might want to. We will. I’m taking tomorrow off as well.” She grinned. “I have this terrible bout of intestinal flu. We’re off to Oak Park for lunch with Mom.” The prospect sounded wonderful. Adela’s advice had never failed. Surely it wouldn’t now.

      “That’s settled!” Heather retrieved the bottle and drained it into Elizabeth’s glass. “You finish it. I have to drive. We’ll be home in ten minutes, have an early night, and in the morning go seek advice from one of the most powerful witches in the Midwest.”

      The house was empty and dark. Damn! But it was hers all right. The name Heather Whyte was neatly stenciled on the mailbox—clearly visible, even in the dark, to his vampire sight. Were they both gone? If so, where in damnation? And if Elizabeth hadn’t come here, where else could she be? He’d give it until dawn and then think again. Laran perched on the porch roof and waited. It was a cold night, all to the good: the neighbors would keep their windows shut tight.

      Less than an hour later, a little red Honda, with Elizabeth in the passenger seat, pulled into the narrow drive. Bingo! One at a time was preferable, but two mortals was no challenge for one vampire. Laran closed his fingers around the gun he’d acquired from a pawnshop on his way in and jumped down as Heather locked the car. She gave a little scream but cut it off mid-breath when he pointed the gun at Elizabeth’s head and promised to shoot her if there was another sound.

      Elizabeth fought back, kicking and trying to twist her leg around his. He let her waste her strength, but when she bit down over the hand that held her mouth, he hit her on the side of her head with the gun and dragged her to the side door.

      “Open it!” he hissed at Heather, but it wasn’t enough. “Ask me in!”

      “Getting formal are we? What’s your name? Emilio Post?” Sarcastic bitch! He released the safety to let her know he meant business. She glared at him but acquiesced. “Come in!”

      She couldn’t have been less welcoming if she tried, but it was all he needed. He stepped over the threshold and dropped Elizabeth on the kitchen floor.

      He let Heather lean over her and cluck and fuss like an old hen for a couple of minutes.

      “That’s enough! She’s not dead!” Yet. As if on cue, Elizabeth sat up and shook her head. “Hello, Elizabeth!” he said. She went pale enough to faint. He kicked her. “Get up!”

      She managed, with Heather’s help.

      “Who the hell are you?” Heather asked, her hands around Elizabeth’s shoulders.

      “Ask her. She knows.”

      “He’s Laran Radcliffe. He works for my father.”

      “The creep you mentioned?”

      “The very same.”

      “Ladies.” He made a point of smiling as unpleasantly as he could. “We need to talk. Or rather Elizabeth and I do.”

      “I’m not telling you anything!” Her voice was a little shaky, but her eyes glared defiance.

      “Yes you are, because if you don’t, I’ll shoot your little friend’s kneecaps.”

      “He’s bluffing!” Heather said. “He doesn’t have a silencer on it, and a gunshot and my screams would be heard all over the neighborhood.”

      Time to start scaring them. He grabbed the shrew around the neck with one hand and squeezed until she passed out. Dropping her on the floor, he turned to Elizabeth. She was halfway to the door. He beat her to it, yanked her back, kicked the door closed, and threw her on her back on the kitchen table. When she recovered from the shock, she started to fight and yell.

      He took care of that by snarling and treating her to the sight of his half-descended fangs.

      She froze, mouth open and eyes wide with horror. He loved it when mortals did that. She was bleeding where he’d hit her forehead. At the rich aroma, his fangs descended completely. She opened her mouth to scream again, but his hand blocked her mouth as his arm pressed down on her chest and pinned her to the table. “Make one sound I don’t ask for, and your little friend dies. She’s only unconscious now, but I can fix that. Understand?” When she nodded, he moved his hand off her mouth. “Good. Now tell me all you know about auxiliary accounts in the Devon operation.”

      “Ask my father if you want to know.”

      He splayed his fingers. Nice breasts. Perhaps another time…. She squirmed. He dug his fingers deeper. “I know everything you told him. I heard your conversation.” Her heart raced in shock. Nice. “I want to know the rest of it.”

      Her chest heaved against his fingers. “I told my father all I know. There’s a second set of financial records and they seem to be in code. Just numbers.” She threw him a glare. “If you heard me, you know that already.”

      “You know what the numbers refer to?”

      “If I did, I’d have told Dad.”

      “Any idea what they are doing?”

      “Something underhand, illegal, and illicit!”

      “Smart-ass answers put your little friend in real peril.” She glared. He chuckled. Mortals were so pathetic. “I’m giving you—and her—a second chance. Do you know exactly what the Marshes are doing?”

      Her breasts rose and fell under his fingers as she took another deep breath. Beads of sweat broke out on her upper lip. Mortals were fascinating when terrified. “There was no way of guessing. It looked fishy, so I decided Dad needed to know.” She paused. “He already did, didn’t he? You’ve got a racket going on.”

      All this trouble for a woman’s guess. “Your father and I have an arrangement. In the future, we won’t need your help in the business.”

      “I wouldn’t dirty my hands with it!”

      Silly girl! Mouthing back at him, refusing to acknowledge the evidence of her own eyes. He snarled, and a little mewl came out in her efforts to hold back the scream. She looked up with defiant dark eyes, the fair hair drawn back from her forehead as sweet-scented blood trickled down the side of her face.

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