John's Yearning E-Book

Tina Folsom

• Herausgeber: Tina Folsom
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Serie: Scanguards Vampires
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 411

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

The Scanguards Vampires series continues with the Scanguards hybrids: Ryder's Storm (Book 13) Emotionally scarred by the death of his blood-bonded mate and unborn child several years earlier, vampire and Scanguards bodyguard John Grant avoids women at all costs, desperate to prevent another heartbreak. But when single mother Savannah Rice begs him for help finding her kidnapped daughter Buffy, he can't help but feel drawn to her and the passion that lies dormant behind her blue eyes. As they work to uncover a child trafficking ring leading all the way to Russia, John and Savannah allow themselves to find love and support in each other's arms. In doing so, they are forced to confront their mutual guilt and fear while fighting to rescue Savannah's daughter and the other girls who have fallen into the hands of an unscrupulous villain. But even if they can destroy the trafficking ring, and save the girls, will Savannah be strong enough to love John once he reveals that he is a vampire who craves her blood? ABOUT THE SERIES The Scanguards Vampires series is full of fast-paced action, scorching love scenes, witty dialogue, and strong heroes and heroines. Vampire Samson Woodford lives in San Francisco and owns a security/bodyguard company, Scanguards, which employs both vampires and humans. And eventually some witches. Throw in a few immortal guardians and demons later in the series, and you'll get the drift! Each book can be read as a standalone and always centers around a new couple finding love, but the series is more enjoyable when read in order. And of course, there are always a few running jokes - you'll understand when you meet Wesley, a wannabe witch. Enjoy! Scanguards Vampires Book 1: Samson's Lovely Mortal Book 2: Amaury's Hellion Book 3: Gabriel's Mate Book 4: Yvette's Haven Book 5: Zane's Redemption Book 6: Quinn's Undying Rose Book 7: Oliver's Hunger Book 8: Thomas's Choice Book 8 1/2: Silent Bite (A Scanguards Wedding Novella) Book 9: Cain's Identity Book 10: Luther's Return Novella: Mortal Wish Book 11: Blake's Pursuit Novella 11 1/2: Fateful Reunion Book 12: John's Yearning Book 13: Ryder's Storm (Scanguards Hybrids #1) Book 14: Damian's Conquest (Scanguards Hybrids #2) (pre-order) Thriller (as T.R. Folsom) Eyewitness Stealth Guardians Lover Uncloaked (#1) Master Unchained (#2) Warrior Unraveled (#3) Guardian Undone (#4) Immortal Unveiled (#5) Protector Unmatched (#6) Demon Unleashed (#7) Code Name Stargate Ace on the Run (#1) Fox in plain Sight (#2) Yankee in the Wind (#3) Tiger on the Prowl (#4) Venice Vampyr Venice Vampyr (#1) Venice Vampyr (#2): Final Affair Venice Vampyr (#3): Sinful Treasure Venice Vampyr (#4): Sensual Danger Venice Vampyr (#5): Wicked Seduction (by Michele Hauf) Out of Olympus Book 1: A Touch of Greek Book 2: A Scent of Greek Book 3: A Taste of Greek Book 4: A Hush of Greek The Hamptons Bachelor Club Teasing Enticing Beguiling Scorching Alluring Sizzling Short stories Steal Me The Wrong Suitor Time Quest - Reversal of Fate

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Book Description

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

The Scanguards Vampires series so far

Other Books by Tina

About the Author

Copyright

John’s Yearning

Scanguards Vampires #12

by

Tina Folsom

Book Description

Emotionally scarred by the death of his blood-bonded mate and unborn child several years earlier, vampire and Scanguards bodyguard John Grant avoids women at all costs, desperate to prevent another heartbreak. But when single mother Savannah Rice begs him for help finding her kidnapped daughter Buffy, he can’t help but feel drawn to her and the passion that lies dormant behind her blue eyes.

As they work to uncover a child trafficking ring leading all the way to Russia, John and Savannah allow themselves to find love and support in each other’s arms. In doing so, they are forced to confront their mutual guilt and fear while fighting to rescue Savannah’s daughter and the other girls who’ve fallen into the hands of an unscrupulous villain.

But even if they can destroy the trafficking ring, and save the girls, will Savannah be strong enough to love John once he reveals that he is a vampire who craves her blood?

“I’m addicted to Tina Folsom’s books! The Scanguards series is one of the hottest things to happen to vampire romance. If you love scorching, fast-paced reads, don’t miss this thrilling series!” - Lara Adrian, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Midnight Breed series

The Scanguards Vampires series - over 1 Million copies sold worldwide!

Please sign up for Tina’s newsletterThe Scanguards Vampires series so far:Book 1: Samson's Lovely MortalBook 2: Amaury's HellionBook 3: Gabriel's MateBook 4: Yvette's HavenBook 5: Zane's RedemptionBook 6: Quinn's Undying RoseBook 7: Oliver's HungerBook 8: Thomas's ChoiceBook 8 1/2: Silent Bite (A Scanguards Wedding Novella)Book 9: Cain's IdentityBook 10: Luther's ReturnBook 11: Blake's PursuitNovella 11 1/2: Fateful ReunionBook 12: John's YearningBook 13: Ryder's Storm (Scanguards Hybrids #1)

“I’m addicted to Tina Folsom’s books! The Scanguards series is one of the hottest things to happen to vampire romance. If you love scorching, fast-paced reads, don’t miss this thrilling series!” --- Lara Adrian, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Midnight Breed series

John’s Yearning © 2017 Tina Folsom

--Scanguards® is a registered trademark--

1

Shortly after sunset, John Grant pulled into the underground garage of Scanguards’ headquarters in the Mission District of San Francisco and parked in his assigned spot. Sunset, as well as sunrise, was one of the busiest times at the large building: shift change. The human employees left for the evening, and the vampires arrived to take over. By the time John reached the second floor, where his office was located, the place was buzzing with frenetic activity. Just like every night. He was glad for it, because it helped him take his mind off other things. Things he’d rather keep buried in the dark vaults of his memory bank.

As he walked along the corridor leading to his office, he acknowledged several of his colleagues with a nod, exchanging wordless greetings. He’d almost reached the door to his office, when somebody called out to him.

“John, wait up.”

John turned around and watched Gabriel Giles, his superior and second-in-command at Scanguards, walk toward him. After many years of working with Gabriel, he’d gotten used to the other vampire’s gruesome appearance: a large puckered scar reached from his ear to his chin, disfiguring an otherwise handsome face to the point where he could strike fear into any opponent with only a grim look. Yet, despite his appearance, there was nothing evil about Gabriel. In fact, he was a fair man, a balanced individual thanks to his loving mate, Maya, and their three hybrid children, two of which were bodyguards-in-training at Scanguards. Gabriel had everything John had tried so hard, but failed, to achieve.

“Evening, Gabriel,” John said, not letting the fact that he envied the powerful vampire color his voice. It wasn’t Gabriel’s fault that he had everything John desired.

“Glad I caught you.” Gabriel motioned to the thick manila folder in his hand. “SFPD sent this over for us to have a look at.” He shoved the folder into John’s hand.

“Detective Donnelly?” John raised an eyebrow and accepted the file. “Another crime involving a vampire?”

Because of their arrangement with the City of San Francisco, and their connections to the mayor and the chief of police in particular, their liaison at the police department referred all suspected vampire-related crimes directly to Scanguards. Only a few officers at the SFPD knew about the existence of vampires, and by outsourcing any cases involving vampires to Scanguards, they made sure word didn’t get out. If it did, there would be panic, which both the mayor and police chief wanted to avoid. Besides, Scanguards was better equipped to handle any rogue vampires not adhering to the law. They dealt with them swiftly and efficiently. Scanguards hunted them down, then brought them before the vampire council to be prosecuted. The verdict would be execution for the worst offenders, or a lengthy stay in the vampire prison in the Sierras for those who could be reformed.

“Donnelly isn’t sure. But he’s got no leads at all, so he wants us to take a crack at it.”

“Sure. What’s it about?”

“Child abductions.”

Something churned in John’s gut. “How many?”

“Over a dozen in the last six weeks. All girls. Young, too.”

Though he wasn’t keen on hearing the answer, John asked, “How young?”

“All between nine and twelve.”

Disgust spread in his body, reaching every cell. He exchanged a knowing look with Gabriel. “You think vampires could be responsible, maybe using the kids as blood whores?”

Gabriel shrugged. Simultaneously, his scar twitched, a sure sign that the topic affected him on a deeper level. “I hope not.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Gabriel nodded solemnly. “Look into it, will you? But if it becomes clear there’s no paranormal involvement, turn the case back over to Donnelly. As much as this disgusts me, and I’d love to help out SFPD and find those girls, we don’t have the manpower. Our regular assignments, the patrolling, and now our new arrangement with the Stealth Guardians…” He rubbed his nape, where his long dark-brown hair was tied into a ponytail. “Frankly, I’m not sure how we’ll manage what’s already on our plate.”

John nodded. “Time for the next generation to pull their weight.” The next generation were hybrids, the sons and daughters of vampires, who by nature were half vampire, half human, and thus combined the advantages of both species within them, making them stronger and more versatile, and ultimately less vulnerable than pure-blooded vampires.

Gabriel let out a breath. “We’re getting the hybrids ready as quickly as we can. Some of them are already scheduled for their final practical examinations. But let’s not forget that they’re still in training.”

“I think you underestimate them. Ryder is a very responsible young man,” he said, referring to Gabriel’s oldest son. “As are Amaury’s twins.” Amaury, one of the three highest-ranking directors at Scanguards, had two boys by his blood-bonded human mate Nina.

Unfortunately, John couldn’t extend the praise he had for Gabriel’s and Amaury’s sons to Grayson, the oldest son of Scanguards’ founder and CEO, Samson. The twenty-one-year-old was a hothead. His body had reached maturity on his last birthday, and would stay the same for the rest of his life, but so far his mind hadn’t done the same. Grayson was impulsive, arrogant, and unpredictable. Not to mention constantly in competition with his older sister, Isabelle, and anybody else who he believed was getting ahead of him.

Gabriel chuckled softly. “And they all think they’re invincible. Which they’re not. Ryder is only twenty, as are Amaury’s sons. They haven’t even set into their final bodies yet. They’re still vulnerable.”

John sighed. “I understand. But they’ll heal just as fast as a full-blooded vampire.” Which was the truth. But they developed scars. If Ryder got injured and received a disfiguring scar—like Gabriel had when he was human—it would become permanent once he set in his final form. But apart from that, being a hybrid was better than being a full-blooded vampire. “Don’t forget that they have advantages over us. They don’t have our limitations.”

His boss grimaced. “Don’t I know it? But just because the rays of the sun won’t fry them, doesn’t mean they’re safe on their own. Who’s gonna watch over them by day?” He pointed to John and then himself. “We can’t do it.”

“Maybe it’s time to take the training wheels off and let them prove to us that they’re ready. I don’t remember having anybody watch over me when I was a young vampire. Did you?”

For a moment, Gabriel fell silent. “Different times back then.”

“Not any less dangerous.”

“Different dangers though.” Then Gabriel suddenly straightened and pointed to the folder. “Let Samson and me know tomorrow night whether we need to take this on.”

John gave a quick nod. “Sure. I’ll keep you posted.” He turned and opened the door to his office, closing it behind him a moment later. He slipped out of his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair.

The file folder was thick, and according to the table of contents taped to the inside flap, contained over a dozen police reports, including photos of the missing children and anything else the police deemed relevant. John glanced at the clock on the wall. This would take a while.

He took out the first police report about a girl who’d been missing for just over six weeks, and began reading. He’d finished the second police report and was just beginning the third, when his desk phone rang. He looked at the display and picked it up.

“John Grant.”

“It’s Louise from reception. I’ve got a visitor for you. Her name’s Savannah Rice.”

“Don’t know her. What does she want?”

“She was referred by Detective Donnelly from SFPD.”

“Hmm.” If Donnelly had sent her, it had to be important. “Fine. Have her escorted up to my office.”

“Will do.” The receptionist disconnected the call.

John closed the folder and checked his office for any suspicious signs. But everything was clean. The bin was empty, the small fridge beneath his desk where he kept an emergency supply of human blood was locked. Scanguards provided bottled human blood for free, trying to minimize their employees’ need to hunt for blood among the human population of San Francisco. Of course, they couldn’t prevent anybody from taking blood directly from a human’s vein if they wished to do so, but the fact that they provided easy access to the nourishment they all needed—and more often than not, craved—made resisting the urge to bite a human easier.

John had fed upon rising, and felt perfectly satisfied with the blood he’d consumed. It would sustain him until sunset.

Another look around his comfortable office confirmed that nothing was out of place. Good. Since the person who wanted to see him had been referred by Donnelly, chances were that she was human, though he couldn’t be sure. There was always the possibility that a vampire had contacted Donnelly, aware that he had a direct line to Scanguards.

A knock at the door announced John’s visitor.

“Enter.”

The door opened and the aroma of a human wafted into his office, though the sight of her was blocked by the bulky vampire guard who’d escorted her.

“John, a Savannah Rice to see you.” He stepped aside and let the woman enter, then pulled the door shut behind her.

John should have heard the guard’s footfalls as he walked away, but the blood rushing through his veins drowned out any sound. Any sound but the heartbeat of the human woman who stood in his office, hesitating.

Damn you, Donnelly, damn you for sending her to me!

She was a stranger, a woman he’d never seen before, yet when he looked at her, his heart leapt with recognition, with hope, with lust. She was everything he’d wanted to forget for four long years. Nicolette, the woman he’d loved and lost. He saw her in this woman, though he knew it wasn’t possible. He saw the similarities, but he also saw the differences.

Like Nicolette, Savannah Rice was a beautiful woman, sensual and graceful. She was tall, but not skinny. She had curves in all the places that mattered, all the places a man wanted to feel warm, yielding flesh beneath his fingers. She didn’t show much skin—few women in San Francisco did, the nights being too cold even in the summer. But what he saw heated his blood. Smooth and rich, and a little darker than milk chocolate, her skin stretched over her elegant fingers, her strong cheekbones, her flawless neck. A neck where a vein pulsed in concert with her heartbeat. He imagined his white skin against hers, his hands clasping her shoulders, as he latched onto that vein to drink from her, to drink from his blood-bonded mate.

But she wasn’t Nicolette. He was lucid enough to realize that. Her face looked nothing like Nicolette’s. Her eyes weren’t the dark brown Nicolette’s had been, but a vibrant blue that hinted at a white parent or grandparent. Her black hair was long and wavy, so different from Nicolette, who’d kept her hair shorter and much curlier, the way nature had intended. There was a mysteriousness that surrounded this woman, this stranger, something that seemed to be hidden behind the blue color of her eyes.

When she inhaled, his eyes were drawn to her top, a V-neck sweater that fit her like a glove. It hugged her most precious curves, two round globes more perfect than he could have ever imagined. And one other thing was evident too. He’d glimpsed it immediately when she’d entered his office: she wore no bra. Firm breasts without any help. Without support. He felt his fangs itch at the thought of how it would feel to sink them into her flesh and feel her moan beneath him. With difficulty, he pushed back the need that was suddenly trying to control him. The need to have this woman. To take her. To ride her. To bite her.

But he knew it was wrong. She wasn’t Nicolette. And just because she and his dead mate shared physical similarities, didn’t mean that this woman could fill the void Nicolette had left. Chase away the emptiness he’d lived with for the last four years. Just because his body responded to her the same way he’d responded to Nicolette, didn’t mean his heart would too. It was best to forget about it.

“Mr. Grant?”

Her voice, a soft trickle akin to a mountain spring, jolted him into action. He jumped up from behind his desk and approached her, extending his hand.

“Mrs. Rice, how may I help you?”

She quickly shook his hand, then let go of it just as quickly. “It’s Ms.—there is no Mr. Rice. I’m a single mother. Buffy has no father.”

Somewhat confused, John searched his memory. Was he supposed to know who Buffy was? The only Buffy he’d ever heard of was a fictional vampire slayer from a 90s TV series. “Buffy?”

“Yes, my daughter. She disappeared three days ago. Didn’t Detective Donnelly fill you in? He said—”

The phone on his desk rang again. He was glad for it, because it meant he could avert his eyes before she realized that he couldn’t stop staring at her. Most likely drooling like a hapless idiot. “Excuse me.” He looked at the display and recognized the number of the San Francisco Police Department. “This might be him.” He reached for the phone and picked it up. “Mike?”

“Hey, John. Just thought I’d give you a quick call about your new case.”

“That’s still to be decided,” John said, knowing Donnelly would understand what he meant.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, there’s been a development. The mother of the last girl that disappeared. She’s not happy with us.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She thinks the police are all incompetent. You know the type. So I figured I’d send her over to you so you can assure her that we’re doing everything in our power. Her name’s—”

“I know what her name is,” he interrupted.

There was a tiny pause. “She’s in your office, isn’t she?”

“Thanks for the heads up.” He made sure Donnelly heard the sarcasm in his voice.

“As I said, she’s not happy with us. Squeaky wheel, if you know what I mean. I can’t get any work done with her showing up every five minutes, demanding an update.”

Great! So she was one of those types: bossy, demanding, insistent. “Well, thanks for the referral. I’ll be sure to reciprocate when I can.”

Donnelly had the audacity to chuckle. “No need. Just keep me posted, and honestly, I hope you find this thing has a paranormal stink to it, because I’ve got nothing. No ransom notes in any of the cases. No eye witness accounts of the abductions. Nothing. Not a whiff of a lead.”

“Keep you posted.”

He didn’t wait for Donnelly’s reply and put the phone back on the receiver. For what it was worth, this was his case, at least for tonight. And he wouldn’t let anything get in the way of his professionalism. He’d been a bodyguard for longer than he cared to remember, first for the vampire king of Louisiana, and the last four years for Scanguards. He was trained to show no emotion, and that’s exactly how he would handle this case. Though it wouldn’t be easy having to deal with this human woman whose blood permeated his office with a scent that made his fangs itch and his cock harden in spite of his better judgement.

He inhaled her aroma, filling his lungs with it, before steeling himself and turning to face her again. When he met her eyes, he instantly knew that she’d been scrutinizing him the entire time he’d been on the phone. And for some inexplicable reason that fact made it hard for him to show indifference.

“Ms. Rice, please take a seat.”

2

Savannah took the proffered seat. John Grant wasn’t what she’d expected, though she wasn’t really sure what she’d thought she’d find when Detective Donnelly had suggested she go to him to get help finding her daughter. For starters, she’d expected him to be older, much older. Hadn’t Donnelly said John Grant was highly experienced when it came to missing persons? How could he have gained that kind of experience when he was clearly still in his thirties?

And then there was his looks: for a private investigator he was too good looking, too tall, too athletic. Would somebody with model-like good looks like his really choose a career where he’d come into contact with criminals and violence on a daily basis, when he could easily find employment in modeling, acting, or fashion? His long dark mane alone could advertise any hair product and make it a bestseller.

“How may I help you, Ms. Rice?”

His question pulled her from her reverie. She pushed her thoughts about his appearance aside, remembering the glowing praise Donnelly had sung about him and Scanguards. To make sure they were legit, she’d looked into the company and found only complimentary reviews. It appeared that even the mayor enlisted their services from time to time, and what was good enough for the City of San Francisco, she hoped was good enough for her.

She swallowed and folded her hands in her lap, forcing herself to remain calm. It was hard, because every time she had to recount what had happened, tears inevitably came and choked off her ability to speak. It helped no one, least of all Buffy. For her sake, she had to pull herself together.

I won’t give up till I find you, baby, I promise.

“Ms. Rice?”

She snapped her gaze to his face.

“Detective Donnelly said your daughter disappeared three days ago. Can you tell me what happened?”

She nodded. His voice was laden with concern now, and it helped put her at ease. He was willing to listen. “Mr. Grant, thank you for seeing me—”

“Call me John, please. Tell me about your daughter. Buffy’s her name?”

She nodded. “She’s only ten.” And she was probably frightened to death wherever she was. “She disappeared after school.”

“Tell me everything. Start on the day she disappeared.”

“She attends Grattan Elementary in Cole Valley, has since kindergarten. I normally drop her off just after eight and then go to my office in SoMa and—”

“Normally?” he interrupted.

While it wasn’t too far to drive from Buffy’s school to her office in the largely commercial South of Market district, she’d had to go straight to her office that day. “Yes, but that morning I had an early business meeting, so I asked my neighbor to take her. Her son goes to the same school, so Buffy rode with them.”

“And you trust your neighbor? I will need her name and address.”

Savannah made a dismissive hand movement. “That’s not when it happened. Buffy got to school all right. She was there all day. The teachers and the students all confirm it. It happened sometime later.”

“Sometime later? Has the time of her disappearance not yet been established?”

“Yes and no.” And that’s where her frustration with the police had started. They were dismissing some of the witnesses’ claims, just because those witnesses happened to be children. “She goes to the after-school program there, too. And while some of the students said they saw her there, others said they think she’d already left.”

“Why’s that?”

“They were doing an impromptu field trip.”

“Where to?”

“Just a few blocks away to a lookout point called Tank Hill.”

John nodded. “I know it. Is it unusual for such a field trip to take place without any planning?”

“It happens on occasion that due to teacher availability or bad weather, activities are shifted from one day to another. You see, it was completely fogged in the day before, so they couldn’t take the walk on the day they were supposed to. When the fog cleared that afternoon, the teacher decided to take advantage of it.”

“And you say that nobody is sure that your daughter went on the walk with her class?”

“The teacher said she was with them, she’d even ticked her off the register before and after the walk when they returned to the school. But several of the kids said they didn’t see Buffy.”

“Hmm.” John steepled his fingers under his chin, closing his eyes for a moment.

The gesture drew her attention to his long dark lashes and the full eyebrows that curved over his eyelids. When he suddenly opened his eyes again, his gaze collided with hers, pinning her.

“What time does the after-school program end?”

“At six.”

“And you were there at six to pick her up? Were you waiting or were you late?”

Savannah edged forward on her chair. “Neither. I had a meeting that ran over.”

“So you asked your neighbor to take Buffy home again?”

Was he judging her, because she couldn’t be there for her daughter when she needed her?

“No.” Savannah realized how agitated she was becoming, but she couldn’t stop her distress from seeping into her voice. “Her son doesn’t go to the after-school program. I called my babysitter. She went to pick up Buffy. But when she got there, Buffy wasn’t there.”

“I’m assuming your babysitter—what’s her name?”

“Elysa, Elysa Flannigan.”

“I’m assuming Elysa is on the list of authorized persons to pick up Buffy?”

“Yes, the school only releases the kids to somebody on their list. And Elysa is on the list.”

“Was she on time?”

“She said she was.” And Savannah believed her. Elysa had been babysitting for her since Buffy was three and was very responsible. “She was on time. She’s always on time.”

“Even if you tell her last minute that you need her to come and pick up your daughter?”

With that, Savannah lost her temper and jumped up. “What are you implying? That I’m a bad mother? That I don’t look out for my child?”

John rose and walked around the desk. “Please calm down, Ms. Rice.”

“You’re right, it’s my fault! I didn’t have enough time for her. I put work before her, when I should have been the one picking her up, when I should have kept her with me rather than put her into an after-school program so I could spend more time at work. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, and I’m not suggesting that you’re a bad mother. I’m just trying to establish what happened and how it happened. I’m not judging you. I’m sure raising a child on your own is hard enough.”

His last words calmed her a little. She felt awful for her outburst. “You must understand Buffy is everything to me. I love her more than my own life.” Tears welled up in her eyes now, and she no longer had the strength to hold them back. “The thought that she’s out there somewhere, taken by somebody, alone and frightened, is killing me inside. I have to find her. No matter what it takes.” She wiped the back of her hand over her wet cheek. “The police are too slow. The Amber alert yielded no results. And they have no idea what to do next. No suggestions, no plan.” She looked straight at him now. “Do you have children?”

Something seemed to jolt him, but then it was gone again just as quickly. “No, I don’t.”

“If you had children, you would understand that I can’t leave a single stone unturned. Whatever it costs, I need you to find Buffy. I need you to bring her home.”

He stood there, clearly contemplating something, almost as if he didn’t know how to say what he had to say. “I need to be honest with you. Detective Donnelly might have overestimated what Scanguards can do. I don’t want you to, uh…”

“What are you saying? That you won’t take the job? I assume your services aren’t cheap, but I can pay whatever—”

He lifted his hand. “It’s not about money. In fact, if the disappearance of your daughter is indeed connected to the other disappearances in the Bay Area, and we take the case, the city will pay us.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Other disappearances? How many have there been?”

“A dozen girls around Buffy’s age have disappeared in the last six weeks alone. The police—”

“Oh my God!” Savannah reached for the chair to steady herself, but before she could do so, John had gripped her elbow, helping her to keep her balance. She’d read of a few disappearances, but those things happened, and for a large metropolitan area one or two a month wasn’t unusual, but a dozen? “The newspapers. Why—”

“Why did the papers not report on it extensively? Because the police and the parents of the children decided it was in everybody’s interest to keep this under wraps so the police could investigate without a bunch of crazies flooding their tip line with made-up sightings and theories.”

“Under wraps?” Anger churned up in her. “Had I known, I could have protected her. I would have hired somebody to watch over her twenty-four-seven!”

“I know you would have.”

Surprised, she met his eyes. Their chocolate brown color was shimmering with understanding as if a flame was turning it into a golden brown.

“I received the file from the police tonight.” He pointed to a thick manila folder on his desk. “I’m going to see if I can connect your daughter’s disappearance to that of the other girls and find a common denominator. If there’s something there that connects these cases, I’ll find it.”

The confidence in his voice was infectious.

“Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet. I can only tell you if we’ll accept your case once I’ve checked out all the details. Did you come by car?”

A little confused about the abrupt change of subject, she shook her head. “I took a taxi. There’s never any parking in the Mission.”

“Good. We’ll take my car. It’s in the underground garage.”

Her forehead furrowed further. “To do what?”

“You’re going to show me all places connected to you and Buffy: your home, your work, Buffy’s school, your neighbor’s home, your babysitter’s home. I need to make myself a picture of Buffy’s life.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past eight o’clock and dark outside. “You mean now?”

“Security is a twenty-four-hour business.”

Savannah found herself wanting to hug this man. His willingness to go the extra mile and not waste any more time, but jump into action immediately, filled her heart with hope.

Hold out a little longer, Buffy, Mommy is coming.

3

John grabbed his jacket, held the door open for Savannah and motioned her to walk through it ahead of him. A gentlemanly move, yes, but it also meant that he could follow her with his eyes, eyes that instantly dropped to her ass. Maybe for once he should have foregone his Southern manners, because looking at that shapely ass, those firm, round cheeks, gave him all kinds of ideas wholly inappropriate for this situation. He prided himself on being a civilized vampire, a man who kept his needs and desires firmly leashed. But just looking at Savannah as she sashayed out of his office and into the hallway, made him want to snap that leash and toss all his good intentions out the proverbial window.

Savannah suddenly turned and looked at him. Startled, he froze. Shit, had she somehow sensed that he was checking out her ass?

“Where to?”

“Uh, this way,” he said and gestured to the elevators. As he walked next to her, the silence between them felt awkward, so he asked, “Ms. Rice, I’m sure that even with Detective Donnelly’s recommendation, you considered other companies to help you with the search for your daughter. Why choose Scanguards?”

“I spoke to several of the other companies in the field, but none of them struck me as even remotely qualified.” She gave him a sideways look. “They all started the initial meeting by laying out their fee structure and per diems, expenses, and what not. I knew then that they couldn’t care less whether they found Buffy or not, as long as they could bill me a bunch of hours.”

“Hmm.” He would have had the same concern had he been treated that way.

“But when your first move was to ask me to tell you about Buffy and what had happened, I knew Scanguards was different. Detective Donnelly’s recommendation certainly helped, but I don’t rely on other people’s opinions. I form my own.”

Maybe that attitude was what Donnelly had meant by bossy and opinionated, but John considered it good instincts. Very good instincts.

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

When they arrived at the elevators, John pressed the button, and Savannah turned to him. “I didn’t have much confidence in the police to begin with. But after what you just told me about the other children, I know I can’t rely on them to find Buffy. I hate to put more pressure on you, but Scanguards is my last hope.”

Before he could respond, the elevator doors opened and Amaury, Scanguards’ founder Samson’s best friend and a high-ranking director of the company, stepped out. As always, he was casually dressed in cargo pants and a shirt that was open at the collar. His long dark hair, shorter than John’s, touched his shoulders, shoulders that were as broad as a tank. He was linebacker material for sure, though John knew Amaury had never played American football in his youth, which he’d spent in sixteenth century France.

“Hey, John,” Amaury greeted him and nodded to Savannah.

“Amaury, evening.”

“Glad I’m running into you. There’s been a small change in the schedule.”

John raised an eyebrow. Would he have to hand Savannah over to somebody else? “Yeah?”

“Damian and Benjamin requested to do their hands-on-training exercises with you starting tomorrow night. Take ‘em patrolling and find something for them to do.” Amaury grimaced. “Sorry, but I had to approve it, or they would have talked my ear off.”

John shrugged and reached for the elevator door, preventing it from shutting. “I don’t mind. Like I said to Gabriel earlier, the boys need to start pulling their weight. We need the extra pairs of hands.”

Amaury slapped him on the shoulder. “Glad you see it that way. Not everybody is keen on training the next generation.” He made a motion to walk away, then stopped and grinned. “Oh, and I told them that your word is law. They run roughshod over me, ‘cause I’m their father, but there’s no reason for you to tolerate such behavior.”

John had to chuckle involuntarily. “They’re good boys. You could have done worse.”

Amaury winked at him. “Yeah, I could have gotten Grayson as a son.” With a nod and a “Ma’am” to Savannah, he left.

John looked at Savannah and motioned to the elevator. “Shall we?”

Inside the elevator, John pressed the button for parking level two and watched the doors close.

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re patrolling. What kind of patrolling?” Savannah asked.

“We have a contract with the city. For security services.” When she gave him a curious look, he added, “The city’s police force is too small to handle all of its security needs. So they hired Scanguards to patrol certain areas at night. Make sure the city is safe.” Safe from creatures of the night. From creatures like him.

“The city seems to have lots of confidence in Scanguards.”

“We’ve been working with them for a long time.” The former mayor of San Francisco, a hybrid and a friend of Samson, had negotiated the deal. When the new mayor had taken over, he, as well as the chief of police, had been let in on the secret that vampires existed. Fortunately, they’d agreed to honor the prior mayor’s arrangement and sworn to keep the existence of vampires, witches, and other paranormal creatures secret. The deal worked well for both sides: the city was safe, and Scanguards received steady pay from the city’s treasury.

The elevator doors opened. “Go ahead, my car is parked to the left.” He followed Savannah out into the clean, well-lit garage.

“The SUV?” she asked, pointing to a blackout van, one of Scanguards’ preferred modes of transport because it shielded the vampires riding in it—including the driver—from the sun.

John shook his head, clicked his key remote, and the lights of the car next to the SUV flashed briefly.

Savannah’s gaze snapped to it. “The sports car?” There was a hint of surprise in her eyes, as if she hadn’t expected him to drive a sports car or make enough money to afford such an expensive vehicle. Or maybe it was just appreciation for the fine German machine he owned. For whatever reason, he had a hard time reading her.

The black Mercedes AMG was a sleek two-seater and his pride and joy. It had also been made vampire-safe, its windows coated with a film UV-rays couldn’t penetrate, while still letting in enough light so the car didn’t look suspicious.

He opened the passenger door and waited for Savannah to slide into the leather seat, before closing the door behind her. Then he got in on the driver’s side and engaged the engine. Moments later, he merged into traffic on busy Mission Street, before turning North toward Cole Valley.

“We’ll start with the school,” he announced.

“There won’t be anybody there right now. It’s night.”

“Doesn’t matter.” In fact it was better if he could snoop around without any school staff asking him questions. Besides, a visit during the day was out of the question. “I’ll be able to see what I need to see.”

“You work nights a lot?” she asked.

“Mostly.” Though not by choice.

“Don’t you mind it?”

“You get used to it.” After a couple of hundred years.

“Hmm.” She looked out the side window and fell silent for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you can get used to a lot of things if you have to.”

He could sense sadness in her voice, and knew it was time to guide the conversation in another direction. Just as well, because he still had plenty of questions pertaining to Buffy. “You said there was no Mr. Rice. So where is he, Buffy’s father?”

She turned her head to him. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Because we can’t rule out the possibility that he might have kidnapped her. It happens all the time that non-custodial parents kidnap their own children in order to get back at their ex-spouse.”

“I was probably not very clear earlier.” She sighed. “There is no father. None that Buffy would know. I was never married.”

“Your ex-boyfriend then?”

From the corner of his eye he noticed her shake her head. “I wanted a child, but I didn’t want a man in the bargain. Buffy’s biological father has no idea he has a child. He donated his sperm to a sperm bank, and for all I know, he has lots of children he doesn’t know about. He was a very desirable donor.”

That news surprised him and made him curious. “What do you mean by desirable?”

She shrugged. “You can choose from profiles at the sperm bank. You know, to pick the kind of attributes you hope the donor will pass on to your child. He had a PhD from MIT, an IQ that put him in the top brackets at Mensa. I know some people would judge me for how I chose him. But I wanted the best genes for my child.”

Stunned at her words, John stared at her. “Those were the only criteria they gave you? Nothing else to identify him by?”

She shook her head slightly. “I knew he was Caucasian, had blue eyes and dark hair. But they don’t give you much else. No pictures, if that’s what you mean.”

“Hmm, I see. So I assume he would never find out that his sperm had resulted in a child.” Knowing how strict privacy laws were, John didn’t expect an answer. “Just like you don’t know his name, he doesn’t know yours.” A dead end then.

“No, sorry. Maybe I should have gotten more information on him back then, but I didn’t.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean? How?”

“Their systems are hackable.”

“Hackable? How do you know that?”

“I’m a programmer. I was tempted to find out more about Buffy’s potential father back then. I got into their system. It was easy.” She sighed. “But I didn’t go through with it. In the end, I decided it was best not to know too much. So I never accessed his file. What I knew was enough. The sperm donor was healthy, young, and intelligent. That was all that mattered.”

John nodded, contemplating her words. She’d made a wise decision not to pursue the matter any further, though one thing made him curious. “Do you still use your skills as a hacker?” After all, it could be entirely possible that by hacking into a system, she’d drawn somebody’s attention on herself, who now wanted to hurt her by kidnapping Buffy.

She shook her head. “I actually work in cyber security now. That experience showed me how vulnerable certain organizations are. So I made it my business to help them patch those areas that are vulnerable to a cyber attack. One of my first independent jobs was to shore up security at the sperm bank.”

“You run your own business? As a cyber security expert?” He glanced at her, running a long look over her feminine features.

“Why does that surprise you? Because I’m a woman?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

She lifted her hand. “No need to apologize. I get that a lot.”

“It’s just that when I think of a cyber security consultant, I imagine somebody a bit geekier.” And Savannah was anything but geeky. She was sensual, sexy, like sin itself. And he was back to thinking about her sexually again. How long had he managed to keep his mind off her delicious curves by acting professional and asking her about things that should have been completely innocent? Five minutes? Ten?

If he continued like this, one of two things would happen. He’d either find himself pressing Savannah against the nearest flat surface, burying his cock in her while he drank her blood, or he would return home at sunrise, needing either an ice-cold shower or a hand job, or possibly both.

The former, he couldn’t allow under any circumstances, and the latter didn’t sound in the least bit appealing.

4

John had suddenly fallen silent, and Savannah wondered whether she’d said something wrong. She hoped her confession about Buffy’s father or her foray into hacking hadn’t turned him against her, because she couldn’t risk Scanguards not taking her case. She needed to find Buffy, needed to bring her home. It was all that counted. And she would play whatever role was necessary. Remaining silent during the rest of the drive to keep from saying anything else controversial, was a small price to pay to secure Scanguards’ help.

When they pulled up next to Grattan Elementary, Savannah was glad to get out of the car. The school building took up more than half of one city block, with a single row of houses facing away from the schoolyard occupying the remainder of the block.

“Show me where the parents pick up their children.”

She nearly shrieked at the sound of John’s voice next to her. She hadn’t heard him walk around the car to join her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said gently.

“It’s nothing. My nerves are just frayed.” She motioned to the street corner. “This way.”

The sound of a beep came from behind her a moment later, indicating that John had locked the car doors. The fog had descended on the city again, and the cold, humid air seemed to seep through her sweater, making her realize that she’d left the house without a jacket. She shivered involuntarily.

“You’re cold,” he said matter-of-factly.

“It doesn’t matter.”

But he was already taking off his jacket, and a moment later, he’d laid it over her shoulders, the inside still warm from his body heat. She couldn’t help but pull the garment tightly around her torso so the heat wouldn’t escape.

“Thank you. Normally I don’t get cold that easily. But I haven’t slept much since…” She didn’t complete the sentence. She knew she didn’t have to. She pointed to a gate. “That’s where the parents line up with their cars, and the kids get signed out by a teacher.”

John nodded. “Wait here.”

Savannah watched him walk to the gate, peer in, then take in his surroundings. He didn’t just look at the school, but also at the opposite side of the street, the houses facing it, and the buildings up and down the next street. When he walked up the short incline and turned to look down onto the school’s roof and the teachers’ parking lot, which abutted the children’s playground, she wondered what he was looking for.

Moments later he was back.

“What were you looking at?”

“If I were to abduct a child from this school, I would have to scope it out first, figure out where the teachers would be, who could see me depending on where I was, and where the best place to hide would be.”

“But you can’t possibly see enough at night. It’s too dark.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow during the day,” he promised, “but I wanted to get an idea tonight so that I know what I’m looking at when I go through the police report.” He took her elbow. “Now, let’s drive to your babysitter’s house.”

In the car, she gave him Elysa’s address and he entered it into the navigation system of his car. It wasn’t far to her Laurel Heights flat, which she shared with two roommates. Outside, John stopped the car, but didn’t turn off the engine.

“Do you want me to introduce you to her?” Savannah asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t want her to know who I am. I’m not going to talk to her directly, not right now anyway. I don’t want to spook her, if she’s involved in Buffy’s disappearance. I’ll be watching her to see if there’s anything of concern.”

“What now?”

“I’ll drive you home. Then I’ll look into a few things.”

She gave him her address in Lower Pacific Heights. It wasn’t far, and there was very little traffic at this time of night. She was looking for something to say, to drown out the silence between them, when John suddenly said, “You mentioned you run your own business. Any employees?”

“I have two IT experts working for me, Rachel Ingram and Alexi Denault. Why?”

“Have they met Buffy?”

“Of course. Occasionally, I take Buffy to my office with me when school lets out early, or when I can’t get a babysitter. They know her well.”

“So both of them have been employed by you for a long time?”

“Alexi is relatively new. I hired him about eight months ago. But Rachel has been with me for almost three years. Why are you asking?”

“Most abduction cases involve people who know the victim,” he said.

At the last word, she sucked in a breath. She didn’t like to think of her daughter as a victim. It dehumanized her. Made her an object.

“I’m sorry,” John said quickly, as if he understood. Did he?

She glanced at him and nodded. “So you think Alexi or Rachel could have something to do with Buffy’s disappearance? I don’t see it. Neither Rachel nor Alexi ever showed much interest in her. You know, they’re not into kids. They were nice enough to her when she was in the office, but I could tell they weren’t that keen on having her around, asking questions and making noise while they were trying to work. Buffy is a curious little girl. Some adults find that exhausting.” But she never got sick of answering her daughter’s many questions, satisfying her curious mind.

“We can’t rule out the possibility. Email me their home addresses and the address of your office. I’ll look into their backgrounds,” John insisted.

A moment later he pulled up in front of her home, a condo in a two-unit Victorian building situated on a quiet side street.

“Do you live upstairs or downstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

“And the neighbor who took Buffy to school that day?”

Savannah pointed to a single family home on the same block. “Two doors down. The little yellow house. Nancy lives there with her husband and their son.”

John nodded. “I’d like to see Buffy’s room.”

“Of course.” Savannah reached for the door handle and got out of the car.

When she walked around the car, she noticed John glancing down the street at her neighbor’s house, then looking across the street, assessing the surroundings just like he’d done at Buffy’s school. She couldn’t help but wonder what the street looked like to his trained eye, whether he recognized any dangers past or present. Could he immediately ascertain the weak points in a place, the way she detected vulnerabilities in rows of computer code?

At her front door, John joined her, though his gaze remained vigilant, scanning the deserted street. There was something reassuring about him standing there, waiting for her to unlock the door. Confidence exuded from him. This was his profession, to see things other people didn’t see, to find what was hidden, to protect those who needed protection. Standing there at the threshold to her flat, Savannah felt it as if he’d recited his resume, as if he’d told her about every case he’d solved, every person he’d saved. The knowledge wrapped around her like the warmth of his jacket.

“No security system?” he asked when she opened the door and started walking up the narrow staircase.

“It’s a pretty safe area. And I don’t really have anything worth stealing.” There were many larger mansions only a few blocks away. A burglar would find those more appealing.

He didn’t answer, but followed her. In the long upstairs hallway, a feature of so many Victorian flats, she flipped the light switch. “Buffy’s room overlooks the garden.”

She walked to it. But at the door, she hesitated. John caught up with her and stopped next to her. “Something wrong?”

She looked at him. “It’s been hard for me to go in here since she disappeared. Seeing her room all empty just brings reality home, you know?”