The dark stranger sat motionless, that single hand still extended toward her. Kira took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. She'd been in enough strange situations with her job to know that getting hysterical never helped anyone. True, nothing about being a private investigator had prepared her for this, but if she wanted to preserve even the smallest chance at surviving, she needed to keep her cool.
"My name is Kira." If he'd taken her belongings, he'd soon know that from her wall et, anyway. "I want to go home now. I'm not sure what happened this morning. When I try to remember, it's all so blurry . . ."
"You are lying," the man said with a scoff that somehow managed to sound elegant.
Those coal-colored eyes narrowed. "I don't need to read your mind to know that. I can smell it."
Kira swallowed hard. "Wouldn't you pretend you didn't remember anything, if you were in my position?"
"I don't know," he replied almost musingly. "I've never been in your position. I always knew about Cain's children, even when I was a child myself."
Then he shook his head as if to clear it. "Why am I saying this to you? I must need to feed again. Come, let us get this over with . . ."
He was suddenly in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. How could he have moved so fast? Her heart began to pound while a sick franticness welled up in her. Get this over with? Was that how casually he referred to murdering her?
"Do not fear," the monster said softly. His eyes changed, glowing a terrible bright green as he forced her to look at him. Pressure began to build in her mind. Oh God, he was about to rip her head off, like he'd done to those other creatures back at the warehouse.
"Stop it," Kira gasped. "I tried to help you - "
"I know," he interrupted, brushing his fingers across her face. "It was very brave.
Foolish, too, but brave nonetheless. Look into my eyes, Kira. Nothing happened this morning. You never went to the warehouse. You never saw me. You went home, fell asleep, and nothing else happened . . ."
His voice deepened until it vibrated with something more than his unusual accent. The pressure in Kira's mind intensified, but her head didn't feel like it was about to snap off her shoulders. Maybe he wasn't trying to kill her. It hadn't taken this long for him to kill the others at the warehouse. After several more moments staring into his impossibly bright eyes, Kira tried to reason with him again.
"That's exactly what I'll say. Whatever you are, whatever they were, I don't want to know about it. I just want to forget about it."
A frown creased his features. "Impossible," he muttered. His eyes brightened even more. "Nothing happened this morning. You walked home, you went to bed . . ."
"Got it," Kira said, blinking. Looking into his eyes was like staring into two green spotlights.
He was on the other side of the room before her next blink, looking at her with the same wary speculation she'd bestowed on him before.
"You are immune to my power." A short laugh came from him. "This is a memorable day, indeed. Perhaps it's because I gave you my blood to heal you. That could interfere with my mesmerizing you now. Once you get it out of your system, you will be susceptible again."
That didn't sound good. It sounded lengthy, like she wasn't getting away anytime soon, and things were forming a connection in her mind. Blood. Mesmerizing. Fangs. Flying.
Only one creature had all those in common, but this stranger couldn't really be a vampire, could he?
"I might remember what happened this morning, but you can bet I won't tell anyone," Kira said quietly. "You don't have to wait for anything to clear out of my system. I'll go home and won't say a word about you, that warehouse, or anything else that isn't completely normal."
He stared at her, darkness replacing the green in his gaze. Then, very slowly, he shook his head.
"At this moment, you may believe that, but I cannot take the risk that you will change your mind later."
The sound of the door shutting was the only indicator that he'd moved. Kira ran to it, but though the knob turned, and she shoved against it, she couldn't open the door.
Something very heavy must be on the other side of it.
How was she supposed to get away from him when he moved so impossibly fast?
Once again, the word "vampire" jumped into her mind. With all the other traits she'd seen, it seemed to be the frontrunner for what her kidnapper was. Then again, weren't vampires supposed to catch fire in the sunlight? He hadn't. The sun had been out when he'd carried her from the warehouse, yet her kidnapper hadn't suffered any ill effects.
Plus, she had on a cross necklace, but that hadn't stopped him from carting her over half of Chicago's rooftops this morning, either. That shot a big hole in her "vampire" theory.
Some part of Kira couldn't believe she was contemplating what sort of supernatural creature he could be. None of those things were supposed to exist, let alone kidnap her!
Disbelief battled with the memory of everything she'd seen. Even if she wanted to believe that her long night without sleep had made her see things that weren't real, her blood-smeared, perfectly healed stomach was a reminder that her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. She hadn't imagined the agony of her flesh being ripped open, either. Or the coldness that had seeped through every pore, the sense of fading away . . . and then the abrupt yank back to life just in time to see her dark-haired captor ripping the heads off several people when his hands hadn't even been near them.
It didn't matter what he was, Kira decided. The most important thing was getting away from him. She began to prowl around the bedroom, ignoring its lavish furnishings. No phone that she could see. An attached bathroom loaded with all the amenities, none of them useful for escape purposes. No computer. She went over to the window and stared out in frustration. Of course she'd be a few stories up without a balcony or trel is. She supposed she should be grateful that there didn't appear to be a moat around the property, or wolves baying around the perimeter. Was she still in Chicago? Or, when she'd been unconscious, had he managed to take her much farther away?
Kira sank onto the bed, fingering the fabric of the comforter. Frank probably wouldn't even notice she was missing until later tonight. Her boss knew she'd pulled an all-night stakeout; he'd expect her to sleep late today. Tina also wouldn't attempt to call her until later, and if Kira didn't answer, her sister would just assume she was working. Her only hope was that her kidnapper had left her backpack at the warehouse. The police would definitely investigate her whereabouts if they found her belongings at the scene of a grisly multiple homicide. Had he taken it with him when he grabbed her? She couldn't remember. Her backpack wasn't in this bedroom, that was all she knew.