“Very. Thanks.” She stood and shook his outstretched palm, noticing that unlike Beatrice and Baojia, this vampire’s skin was warm. Almost feverish. “You must be Gio. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Giovanni Vecchio. And if it was from Baojia, I’m sure it was very flattering.”

Her eyebrows lifted in amusement. “Dez actually.”

“Ah. No wonder you’re not running away screaming.” He smiled again and pulled out the chair next to Beatrice.

“Be nice.” Beatrice gave him a playful slap on the leg as he sat. “You two are too much alike. That’s why you don’t get along.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You think that’s the reason, do you?”

“Getting back to the current problem…” Beatrice gave him a pointed stare before she turned back to Natalie. “It seems like there are still too many questions. And the Ernesto situation makes it all more problematic.”

“Can someone tell me what, exactly, the Ernesto situation is?” Natalie asked.

“I think it would be best if Baojia shared that with you,” Giovanni said. “I am not sure of the details and I don’t know how much he wants to tell you.”

Her lip curled. “Please tell me you’re not one of those ‘don’t worry the little woman’ types.”

A self-effacing smile crossed his face. “My wife has taught me the absurdity of that notion. I just know he’s a very private person, and I have too much respect for Baojia to speak out of turn. Besides, he’ll be awake soon. In the meantime, our resources are yours. What can we help you with?”

She took a deep breath and folded her hands. “Well, I just talked to my editor and, after she got finished lecturing me about making her worry, she promised to send a box of my notes to a FedEx office here in LA. I’m not sure where we are, so I just gave her the name of one near Union Station.”

“I’ll arrange to have someone pick it up and bring it to the house. What’s in your notes?”

“Maps of the locations where the bodies were found. Victim profiles I’d worked up.” She shrugged. “A few police reports from Imperial Valley and notes. Lots of notes from phone interviews. I have some e-mails, too. It’s just kind of a jumble, to be honest.”

“Ooh!” Beatrice grinned, her fangs on display. “Does it need organizing? I love organizing.”

Giovanni smiled. “Natalie, I believe you came to the right place.”

Natalie was lying on the bed in the guest room, catching a quick nap before the night truly started, when she heard him. The door creaked, just a little, and she looked over to see a sliver of his solemn face.

“You can come in, Baojia.”

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. “How are you?”

“Better.” She watched him. He was so careful with her. As soon as he entered the room, she saw him subtly check the surroundings, paying particular attention to the windows and the door to the bathroom. “I don’t think you need to worry. It’s like Fort Knox here.”

“No.” He couldn’t help himself. He looked in the bathroom and checked behind the door. “The security here is better than Fort Knox. Are you rested?”

“Yes.”

“And they fed you?” Satisfied that no intruders had crept into her bathroom through the tiny window, he moved to the closet.

“Yes, I’ve been fed, watered, washed. All shiny and new, George.”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled slightly as he looked inside the small walk-in closet. “We’re safe, Baojia.”

“I know.” Still, his eyes scanned the room and tension radiated from him.

“Will you come sit down, please?” Natalie patted the edge of the bed. “You’re making me nervous.”

He sat near her feet, studying her.

“Now,” she finally said after he’d looked his full. “Let’s talk about the first night we met.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“You bit me?”

Baojia sighed. “After everything I just told you, that is what you focus on?”

She was angry. “You bit me. Without my permission—even my kinda-drunk permission—you bit me and drank my blood.” She hadn’t left the bed, but she was glaring at him with one hand covering her neck. He leaned over and pulled her fingers away.

“That bite saved your life in Mexico after you went to speak to Ivan. After I told you not to.” He leaned over her, holding her wrist in his and stifling the satisfied growl that wanted to surface every time he saw the pale, silvery scars. “Those marks on your neck were the reason I could come after you and no one would question it. Without them, you would have been fair game. Would that have been preferable, Natalie? Would you rather be dead? Or Ivan’s plaything in Ensenada?”

He could tell the minute righteous anger turned to fear. Her face grew pale and her eyes widened. His anger fell away. “Don’t cry.”

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She’d been so strong; the sight of her crumbling tore at him inside. He gathered her in his arms, rocking her back and forth.

“Don’t cry. Natalie, you’re safe. Don’t cry.”

“Too much,” she whispered against his shoulder. “I feel like everything changed in one moment. And I’m starting to wonder whether I’ll ever be able to go back. Is it always going to be this way? Will my life ever be normal again?”