Trace of Darkness: A Diana Duvail Novel by RB Hilliard

Author:RB Hilliard [Hilliard, RB]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

After announcing we had to go, Zack’s mood drastically changed. I didn’t expect him to declare his undying love for me, but I also didn’t think he would shut me out.

“Your clothes are in your room,” he said before entering the bathroom. The sound of the lock engaging behind him felt like a slap to the face. Ouch.

And this is why I don’t do relationships, I thought, as I trudged up the basement stairs. I was almost to the top step when I heard the lock disengage. I’d completely forgotten about the locked door.

“Thanks, Jerk,” I muttered as I made my way through the downstairs, then up the second flight of stairs and into the bedroom. Sure enough, on the foot of the bed sat the pile of clean clothes. Thank you, Selma. Had they been here earlier, I wouldn’t have gone snooping. Then I wouldn’t have been dragged into Zack’s secret lair and discovered his magical cock. Sighing, I dropped onto the bed and buried my head under the pillows. Ugh! And then I wouldn’t have experienced the best sex of my life, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have caught feelings for the jerk!

By the time I’d showered, dressed, and made it back downstairs to the impatiently waiting vampire, it was a quarter to eleven.

The drive to my apartment—this time in a BMW Alpina—was all business. In other words, I filled Zack in on what I’d learned about Jessie, the missing girls, and their connection to SangreLa, and he pretended to listen attentively.

“In addition to visiting Jessie, I think we should stop by SangreLa,” I suggested.

“No.”

Anger flared. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’ll handle it.”

His sharp tone made my hackles rise. “You do realize what I do for a living. Of course, you do, or else you wouldn’t have asked for my help. This is me helping, Zack.”

He shot me a sideways glare. “SangreLa is a blood club that caters to the dregs of vampire society. It is an embarrassment and an abomination, but most of all, it is dangerous, especially for human women. In case you are wondering, that means you.”

Rude. I glared back at him. “I can handle myself.” His lack of confidence infuriated me. By the time we reached my place, we were no longer speaking to each other.

Of course, he insisted on escorting me to my apartment. I made him wait in the living room while I ran up to my bedroom to change shoes. I was both shocked and thrilled to find that my bed, rug, nightstands, and lamps had been replaced. However, I still felt violated. Maybe it was time to find a new place—a place with deadbolts and no windows.

After changing into boots, I quickly brushed my teeth. Then I grabbed my gun from my top drawer and my black, steel fixed-blade knife from the underside of my bed—the same knife I would have gutted Victoria with—had I been able to reach it. Slightly smaller than a Bowie knife, it had

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