One thing was for sure. The bride had better not be Shanna Whelan. Sean would go ballistic.
Literally. He'd probably detonate a truckload of C4 on the Upper East Side, where Draganesti's townhouse was located.
Corky's show came back on. Another photo was displayed.
"Oh, crap." Austin grimaced. It was a picture of Draganesti and Shanna Whelan together.
"Can you believe it?" Corky screeched. "Roman Draganesti is marrying a mortal!"
Holy matrimony. Austin pulled the CV-3 video viewer off and dropped it beside his laptop. This was the worst possible news. With a groan, he leaned forward and bumped his forehead against the steering wheel. Sean would want to retaliate. And there were only five agents on the Stake-Out team. They were too outnumbered to do anything overt. And they still didn't know where Shanna was. That damned Draganesti was hiding her.
Austin was too tense to sit in the car. He had to do something. The thumb drive was still recording, so he didn't need to stay put. He looked around the parking lot. There were thirty-seven cars, and most of them belonged to the undead. If he ran their plates, he could get their names and start compiling a database of known vampires.
He grabbed his digital camera and climbed out of the car. He was almost finished taking pictures of license plates when the bright flash of headlights ripped through the darkness. Another car was entering the lot. A black Lexus four-door sedan.
Keeping low, Austin darted from the cover of one car to the next until he had a clear view of where the Lexus had parked. He zoomed the camera lens onto the New York license plate and silently snapped.
The driver's door opened, and a tall male dressed in an expensive suit emerged. Austin took his picture. Then, the passenger door opened, and a young woman stepped out. Young, my ass. Austin gritted his teeth while he snapped her picture. She might dress like a teenager with her plaid skirt and fishnet hose, but if she were a vampire, she could be older than dirt.
Unfortunately, there was no way he could tell if they were alive or undead with the digital camera.
He needed the 35-mm. He dashed back to his car, hugging the shadow of a tall brick wall. Then, he heard it. A third car door shutting. He edged around a large SUV and caught a glimpse of blond hair. The last time he'd seen Shanna, she'd been a blonde. Could it be? He inched closer, staying low. His mouth fell open. She wasn't Shanna.
She was perfection.
Holy moley. He'd always considered himself a face man, or more importantly, a man who gazed first into the eyes of a woman for a glimpse of her soul. Not possible with this one, for he could only see her profile. Her nose was petite and girlish, but her mouth wide and womanly. A dynamite combination, and it definitely lit his fuse. He took a few pictures.
Her long hair was a mixture of golden brown, honey, and sun-kissed platinum. She held it back from her face with combs that sparkled in the dark and begged to be removed. Hair that pretty deserved a few pictures.
He guessed she was about five-foot-nine. She had to be tall because she was visible over the cars from her head to her sweetly curved breasts. Holy mammary glands, it was enough to turn a face man into a breast man. Thank God for the zoom lens.
She left the car, walking away from him on seemingly endless legs. Her tight skirt had a back vent that twitched open with each step to reveal a few inches of slender thigh. Sheesh, it was enough to turn a newly converted breast man into a leg man.
But then, he noticed how her tight skirt outlined her hips and derriere. Holy honey buns. That was worth a picture or two. And certainly enough to turn a leg man into a connoisseur of fine booty.
Wait a minute. That blue business suit didn't look like something a vampire would wear. They usually went for a more flashy look. Of course! She might not be a vampire. She looked too vibrant to be undead. What if she was innocent and the two with her were vampires? They could be delivering her into a den of demons. Dammit. Not on his watch.
He straightened, then paused with a silent groan. Idiot. He was letting his dick do the thinking. The gorgeous woman wasn't a prisoner. She was walking toward the entrance of DVN with determination in her long-legged stride.
He had to know. Vampire or mortal—which was she? The threesome had reached the entrance of DVN. Austin rushed to his car, yanked open the door, and grabbed the 35-mm. He peered through the viewfinder. Total darkness. With a muttered curse, he removed the lens cap and raised the camera once more.
Nothing. The door to DVN was open, but no one was there. He lowered the camera. Now he could see the male holding the door open and the shorter woman going inside. They were definitely vampires. But what about the gorgeous blonde?
Shit! He'd missed her. He climbed into the car, wincing when his jeans cut into his swollen groin.
She had to be human. He couldn't be this fired up over a dead demon. Could he?
Darcy Newhart came to an abrupt stop inside the lobby of DVN. She could hardly see the black and red decor, the room was so crowded. There had to be over fifty Vamps here, all jabbering with excitement. Good God, were they all seeking employment?
Gregori bumped into her from behind. "Sorry," he murmured, his gaze wandering about the room.
"I didn't expect so many." Her hands trembled as she made sure the combs were still holding back her long hair. She checked her leather portfolio one more time. Her neatly typed résumé was still there, looking the same as it had five minutes ago. How could she compete with so many? Who was she kidding? She would never get this job. The familiar tentacles of panic curled around her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She would never be free. She could never escape.
"Darcy," Gregori's sharp voice cut through the rising panic. He waited 'til she met his eyes, then he gave her the Look.
In the first year of her forced confinement, Gregori had become a good friend and pillar of support, repeatedly telling her, This is the only world you have now. Deal with it. Now, he only had to look at her to remind her to be strong. She nodded and squared her shoulders. "I'll be all right."
His brown eyes softened. "Yes, you will."
Maggie adjusted the pleats on her short plaid skirt. "I'm so nervous. What if I see Don Orlando? What will I say?"
"Don who?" Gregori asked.
"Don Orlando de Corazon," Maggie repeated his name in a reverent whisper. "He's the star of As a Vampire Turns."
Gregori frowned. "That's why you came? To drool on the stars? I thought you wanted to give Darcy moral support."
"I do," Maggie insisted. "But then, I thought if Darcy can find a job, maybe I can, too. So I decided to audition for a soap opera."
"You want to be an actress?" Gregori asked.
"Oh, I don't know anything about acting. I just want to be with Don Orlando." Maggie clasped her hands to her chest and unleashed a long sigh. "He's the sexiest man on earth."
Gregori gave her a dubious look. "Okay. Good luck with that. Excuse me." He grabbed Darcy's arm and pulled her a few feet away. "You've got to help me. The harem ladies are driving me crazy."
"Welcome to the club. I was ready for a padded cell four years ago."
"I'm serious, Darcy."
She snorted. So was she. It had stretched her sanity to the brink when she'd discovered the existence of vampires. But for a modern woman to be forced to live in a vampire harem and obey the dictates of a master? It was more than she could bear.
She'd tried to escape once, but Connor had tracked her down and teleported her back like a lost pet.
Even now, the humiliation curdled her stomach. Her new master, Roman, had sat her down for a firm lecture. She knew too much. The mortal world believed she was dead. Because of her job on mortal television, her face was recognizable to millions. She had to remain hidden. But the good news was she would be safe and sheltered within the confines of his harem. Roman had explained it all calmly and gently, while she had silently fumed and wanted to scream.