Here Comes the Vampire 6 by Raye Kimberly

Author:Raye, Kimberly [Raye, Kimberly]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Vampires, Paranormal, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Ten Talents Press
Published: 2013-11-25T08:00:00+00:00

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“I need Killer,” I told Mrs. Janske when she opened the door a few minutes later.

I held tight to the massive suitcase in my hand—loaded with the surveillance DVDs, several outfits, ten pairs of shoes and enough accessories to dress a runway show.

What? I could be on the run for who knew how long. A girl had to be prepared.

“Finally,” the old woman said, practically throwing the ball of dark fluff into my arms. “I meant what I said. This was the last time.”

“But I thought you loved cats.” I slipped Killer into his travel case hanging on my left shoulder.

“I do, but that’s not a cat.” She glared at Killer. “He’s a demon spawn from hell. He humped my poor Daisy.”

“Bad kitty.” I glared down at him.

“And my Sweet Baby Cakes.”

“Bad, bad Killer.” I wagged a finger.

“And my First Lady Barbara Bush.”

“Now that’s just plain wrong.” I tightened my grip on the bag containing the cat whore in question. “I’m sorry if he crossed the line. It’s just that your cats are so beautiful.” I stared past her to the various animals planted here and there throughout the living room. “So healthy and well-groomed. I’m sure he couldn’t help himself.”

“They do have shiny coats,” she added after a long pause. “But that still doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“Of course not. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you. Somehow.” I looked hopeful. “Some way.”

“Well,” she seemed to think. “I was hoping to take my girls to that new Kitty Spa a few blocks over. I suppose a gift card might ease the shock of the past few days.”

“Done. I’ll drop one off l [rop migater.” I gathered Killer close, gripped the suitcase and headed for the stairs.

I’d just reached the first floor when I caught a whiff of caramel and apples coming up the front stoop. I tightened my grip on my bags and darted out the side Exit leading to the dumpster. I rounded the overflowing bin and made my way through the alley. Down the street. Two blocks over. And then I hailed a cab and headed for DED now that the coast was clear and Riley was busy casing my apartment.

I left Killer in the idling cab while I walked in and picked up my purse—or what was left of it since Mr. BV had upended the entire thing in a frantic search for the rest of the DVDs. The contents had been scattered across my desk, but everything was still there. My prized Chanel lipstick. My mirror. My favorite brush. My cell phone.

Wait a second.

What kind of born vamp hit man overlooked a cell phone?

The kind who’s a rookie and not really good at his job?

That, or he was really good, so much so that he already knew everything about me, which meant he didn’t need my cell phone.

Or worse, he’d planted a tracking device inside and left the cell on purpose.

Easy. You’re not going to panic. You’re going to get your stuff and get out.

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