Frustrated by my inability to recall anything worthwhile, I said, “I can remember my day-to-day routine of working out, reading the newspaper, getting my hair and nails done and dressing for work, but I couldn’t even tell you the last day I was alive. Maybe if I knew that I could retrace the steps I took that day.”
Tristan glanced at his sister. “Patricia.”
She nodded. “Done.” She started towards one of the big, rich desks, but froze as her gaze moved over the ballroom. In a flat tone she announced, “The Judge is here.”
Tristan looked over my head. His cultured voice held both relief and irritation. “It’s about time he showed up.”
I turned to see the object of their attention, Fulton Falls’ creepiest vampire.
He swept towards us, a gothic horror dressed in black. I noticed how others edged away from him. Even the weregators, known for their fearless brutality when they chose to use it, backed a few steps away. Only one man stood his ground when the Judge swept past him. He never moved an inch back, not even when the vampire’s flapping black cape fluttered over his muscular body. It was enough to take my attention from the 300-year old vampire to check out this unique para.
The man was obviously a were, and it took me a moment to register what flavor: panther. Subtle black markings flecked his dark mocha skin. Fangs peeked out from his sensuous lips. Black-furred triangular ears parted the tight cornrows of braids that swept to the man’s chiseled chest, left bare by a black leather vest. His unafraid but wary stance told me this man was used to being hired muscle. Bodyguard, bouncer, something. His green-gold eyes glowed in his handsome cat man face. I didn’t do the part-time furred anymore than I did vampires, but heavens to mergatroid, what a hottie. Had I come across him in life, I might have broken my hard-and-fast rule against sex with a shifter.
I would have liked to study this yummy specimen a bit more, but the Judge demanded undivided attention. He looked like everything I feared in vampires: cold, menacing, unmerciful. His shoulder-length hair was tied back into a short ponytail with a leather cord. He wore a plain black suit that hung from his spare, almost skeletal body. His dark eyes were deeply shadowed, so much so that with the rest of his face being the typical vampire bluish-white, it resembled a death’s mask. His expression was that of naked hunger, and my stomach curled in on itself to look at it.
I had no doubt the Judge was a monster. His visage of passing humanity only underscored the pitiless predator that lurked beneath.
Besides the werepanther, Patricia and Tristan were the only ones in the room that didn’t shrink from his approach. Her upper lip slightly curled, Patricia even dared to rebuke him. “You’re late.”
The Judge turned frigid, flat eyes on her, eyes that would have made anyone else flinch. To one side, the werepanther mounted the stage and stood near Patricia and Tristan. He gripped one wrist in the opposite hand with a pose of casual watchfulness. Definitely a bodyguard. Patricia’s? Lucky girl.
The Judge’s voice surprised me with its melodious lilt. Had I closed my eyes to shut out his appearance, his respectful answer in that lovely voice would have beguiled. “I have been following some leads on the killer.” Then his tone hardened, and his cold, dead fish eyes settled on me. “I hear you found the last victim but her memory has been inconveniently lacking. Is the strumpet present?”
My mouth dropped open at the terror his stare invoked. I hoped Isabella’s bladder control wasn’t dependent on me, because he scared me that bad. Even the most desperate blood groupie wouldn’t feed this ogre. Evil intent radiated off him in waves.
Perhaps my fear showed, because Augustus sidled up to me, putting his golden lion’s body between me and the Judge. Uncaring that it might disrespectful to the ancient creature, I slid my arms around his white-feathered neck, clutching him like the world’s most unlikely teddy bear. For a wonder, my grip didn’t slide through his body though the griffin was a live entity. Perhaps he existed on both planes? He’d seen Dan, after all.
The griffin’s warmth steadied me, and I considered reminding the Judge of his manners for all of a second. Patricia’s slight head shake wasn’t necessary. No way I’d open my mouth to sass this brute.
Tristan’s tone gently rebuked the Judge for me. “Brandilynn is traumatized. Don’t let your prejudice against her line of work upset her any worse.”
Patricia gave me a grin, and I saw she enjoyed baiting the elder vampire. I began to like Tristan’s sister despite myself. “You must excuse the Judge’s bad manners, Brandilynn. He is from a time when women were wrongly treated like property instead of equals.”