Leontes glowered at the detective. "Perhaps we should focus on the serial killer. That might help prove that you have some worth to the investigation."
"Yeah," Frankie said. "Are you sure you're even a detective? Fopdoodle seems more appropriate."
Cage's cheeks reddened. "Is this about my badge going missing? I've already been reprimanded. I still say one of those pennies took it when I was at the mansion for our last monthly meeting. You know how they are. Sneaky. And useless, except for-"
With lightning speed, Leontes was upon him, wrapping the fingers of one hand around the man's throat and easily lifting him in the air. Choking, eyes bugged, the terrified detective clawed at Leontes' hand, feet kicking but finding no purchase. He, too, had inhuman strength, but was no match for the old vampire.
Leontes snarled with fury. Cage kept struggling, but his movements slowly became weaker.
"Pipe down," Frankie said, swacking Leontes' back. "Now who's being dramatic?"
For several moments, Detective Cage's future seemed to hang in the balance. Then, with a noise of disgust, Leontes released him. Cage dropped, barely managing to stay on his feet, and grabbed at his neck.
"What the hell, man!" he croaked. "I mean, sir. But...jeez. What the hell!"
"So," Frankie said to Cage. "What has a dimwit like you so convinced this is Oleander?"
Keeping a wary eye on Leontes, the detective coughed and swallowed a few times before speaking. "The survivors. Before our ambulances took them away, they said they saw Oleander."
Cold washed over Leontes' body. "Survivors?"
Frankie's jaw took on a hard edge. "Oleander doesn't leave survivors."
"Well," Cage said, "these guys barely made it out with their lives."
"Call the queen." Leontes stood and raced toward his car. "Lock down the entire institute!"
"Leontes, what's going on?" Frankie called.
"The queen sent more than half of her house to investigate this!" Leontes called over his shoulder.
"Of course, but with an attack of this magnitude, how could she not send everyone?" Frankie put a hand to her mouth as realization struck. "Oh my God."
The mansion was nearly empty. Kiara was defenseless.
CHAPTER 4
"Someone is breaking into the mansion," Butch said quietly, his tone urgent.
"Go away." Kiara buried her head under her pillow and tried to reclaim sleep.
"They're right outside your window."
Kiara lifted her head. In the filthy gloom of night, a cloaked figure swung over the railing and onto her balcony.
"It ain't a dream." The thin, old man knelt beside her bed. "Move."
Now fully awake and keeping an eye on the intruder outside, Kiara slunk off the far side of the bed and onto the stone floor. The cold quickly chilled her bare feet and reached her skin through the thin material of her nightgown.
The intruder paused outside the doors, hooded head doing a slow sweep. Kiara ducked and scanned the space, too. She had always loved her room, but now, noting it had glass walls and resided at the top of a tall tower with only one way in or out, it was not ideal.
She had worked hard to keep the space open and free of clutter, with cozy armchairs and tall armoires strategically placed around the perimeter, leaving nothing but a rug on the center of the open floor. Plants bloomed outside on the wraparound balcony, but none were big enough for her to hide behind.
Dark, from either the middle of the night or the very early morning, the stars twinkled in and out of clouds moving across the sky. Fog rolled in off the forest behind the mansion. Kiara pondered the idea of making a run for the doors to the balcony on the other side of the room. She could jump and lose the intruder in the mist.
Kneeling beside her, Butch's watery blue eyes followed her gaze. "That's a five-story drop. Don't even think about it."
The doors squeaked softly. Kiara dropped flat. Looking from under the bed, she saw the intruder swing the balcony doors open and step inside, bringing with him the sound of crashing surf and the salty aroma of the ocean. The rush of fresh air fanned the fire in the hearth, renewing life into flames, which had dwindled low.
Butch scowled at her. "You didn't lock the doors?"
"It's a five-story climb," Kiara hissed.
The intruder's boots paused, then pivoted. Butch pushed at Kiara to move her under the bed, but she resisted. When her expression turned fearful and she shook her head, he gave her a forceful shove and slid beside her in the narrow space with surprising speed and strength for a man so old.
The back of her head grazed against the underbelly of the bed. So little room. So confined. Butch patted her shoulder and offered a reassuring smile, but she felt her lungs lock down and her heartbeat accelerate.