Be Still My Vampire Heart(48)

 

Emma pressed a hand to her chest. Good God, what was Shanna thinking? Was she having a half-human, half-vampire baby?

 

With shaky fingers, Emma stopped the recording.

 

"Oh my God," Alyssa repeated. "Sean is going to go ballistic."

 

"We have to tell him," Emma said.

 

Alyssa scoffed. "Don't look at me. He said I could go out of town, and I am out of here."

 

She rushed to her desk and gathered papers. "He's going to go berserk."

 

Emma had to agree. How on earth would she break the news?

 

Never trust anyone or anything. Sean Whelan had learned that the hard way. And when you added vampires with their mind-controlling capabilities into the mix, then anyone could be turned against you. Anyone.

 

After his daughter's betrayal, Sean had hoped to recapture her by staking out Roman Draganesti's townhouse on the Upper East Side. He'd left a surveillance van parked across the street for the first few weeks, but the damned vampires had caught on. His tires had been slashed, and his surveillance equipment stolen. He'd tried a variety of cars and SUVs, but parking was such a bitch, he couldn't always find a place close enough.

 

So, eight months ago, he'd rented a small room catty-corner across the street. It was damned expensive, but Homeland Security had gladly footed the bill when he'd explained he was observing a terrorist cell.

 

He strode into the tiny room and with a swipe of his arm, he cleared a space on the small table for his laptop. Empty take-out containers tumbled onto the floor, and he reminded himself for the jillionth time to take out the trash. Later.

 

For now, he was anxious to see what the video camera had recorded the night before in his absence. The camera squatted on top of a tripod by the window, its lens carefully positioned to peek between two slats of the blinds. Sean peered out the window.

 

Draganesti's house was usually quiet this early in the evening, and tonight appeared no different.

 

He removed the camera's memory card and quickly downloaded Sunday night's recording. Then he inserted a fresh memory card into the camera and pushed record. Back at the table, he settled into a rickety chair and started watching the video from Sunday night. Boring. He pushed fast forward and poured himself a cup of coffee from his thermos. This was so damned boring, and it was getting him nowhere. Shanna could be dead by now.

 

His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open. "Whelan, here."

 

"This is Garrett. There's a… problem here in Brooklyn, sir."

 

With a sigh, Sean rose to his feet and looked out the window. Still no activity outside Draganesti's house. "What kind of problem?"

 

"Our bugs inside the Russian coven were destroyed."

 

"Dammit." Sean paced across the room. "Is the van all right, and our surveillance equipment?"

 

"I'm in the van now. Everything's fine, but all I get is static from the Russian house."

 

Sean muttered another curse. "You need to get back in. Plant some more bugs."

 

"That's kinda hard when the place is crawling with mafia thugs during the day."

 

"Is that my problem?" Sean snarled. "When did they discover the bugs? Did you get any recordings at all for the weekend?"

 

"Yes, I've been listening to them. The bugs went dead on Saturday night, right after Katya received a visitor. Some guy from Poland."

 

"Did you get his name?"

 

"Yeah. He introduced himself, said he was a friend of some guy named Casimir who was unhappy with Katya for killing Ivan Petrovsky. Then he said she needed to find the slayer or she was toast."

 

Sean walked back to his chair. "Slayer? What slayer?"

 

"I don't know. It seems that some vampire dude's been killing off some of the Russian vampires."

 

"That's good."

 

"Yeah." Garrett laughed. "I wish they'd all kill each other off. Anyway, it looks like this Janow dude will kill Katya if she doesn't deliver the slayer."

 

Sean froze. "What? Did you say—" His throat constricted. He couldn't say the name.

 

"Who—who did you say he was?"

 

"Jedrek Janow. Some Polish dude."

 

The phone tumbled from Sean's hand and clattered on the floor. He collapsed into the chair. Sweat popped out onto Sean's brow, and a stabbing pain pierced his gut. The bastard was back. The one who had wreaked revenge on Sean after he'd killed a vampire in Russia. The bastard hadn't attacked Sean. No, he was too cruel and sick for that. Sean doubled over as the pain wrenched his gut. He covered his face to shut out the memory. Poor Darlene. How could he forgive himself? He'd controlled his wife's mind for so many years. Just to help her, of course. To help her adjust to living overseas, so she could be happy. It had been for her own good, but it had left her brain so easy to manipulate, to control.