Page 34 of Crimson Storm

“I’m just saying I’m not sure peace at any cost is the way to go. It might benefit vampires to have a leader who’s a little more... what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Scary?”

“Exactly. I mean, you’re vampires. You’re strong, you’re fast, and if you wanted to be, you could be very dangerous. Maybe Parker would show more respect for vampires as a whole if your leader seemed more dangerous.”

A picture of Imogen came to mind—a scene, actually. Her, sitting on her throne in the Grand Dome, ordering the public execution of a rogue vampire with a calm dip of her chin.

That vision was quickly followed by a memory of Imogen caressing Reece’s neck and shoulders as he kneeled beside her throne, submitting to her authority as one of her personal guard.

How personal had things gotten between them since my departure?

Stop thinking about it. Just don’t go there.

“You’re only saying that because you’ve never actually met a dangerous vampire leader,” I said.

“And you have?”

I stared at the vulnerable human, listening to his steady heartbeat and the sound of blood moving in his veins. Imogen would view him as nothing more than a food source. I shuddered to think of him—or any human—at her mercy.

“You should get some sleep.”

There was no point in telling Shane about Imogen—he’d never meet her. We were going to have him drop us off in a town near the Bastion then he’d drive himself to the closest airport to fly home. We’d finish our journey on foot.

Not only did I not want Shane within twenty miles of that place, we weren’t allowed to disclose its location to non-vampires for obvious reasons.

Of course when we got to Virginia and he dropped us off, he’d have a rough idea of the region where the Bastion was located. But I doubted he’d ever suspect a cavern.

Even if he did, there were literally thousands of them in the state. More than four thousand to be exact, so the secret would remain safe.

I was determined Shane would, too.

18

Men’s Room

Imust have managed to fall asleep because I woke with a start when the rumble of the truck’s engine cut abruptly.

Opening the heavy curtains between the cabins, I poked my head into the front seat. “Are we at another checkpoint?”

The one at the California-Nevada state line had been smooth sailing, but I was worried about the Utah one coming up.

“No. We’re still in Nevada, at a truck stop,” Kelly said. “This thing guzzles fuel. We need to fill it up.”

“Okay. I’ll wake Shane to see if he needs to use the bathroom or get some food or something.”

When I withdrew into the sleeping cab again, his eyes were open.

“What’s going on?” He yawned, blinking against the glare of bright gas station lighting coming through the gap in the curtains.

“We’re refueling. Do you need anything? Food? Water? Restroom?”

Shane sat up and stretched his cuffed hands above his head, giving another shuddering yawn.

“All of the above. So, what are we doing here, sheriff? Are you gonna parade me through the truck stop like a bounty hunter with her prey or can you take these off? It’s not like they’d stop me from shouting for help if I planned to—which I don’t. I’ve already told you I want to help you.”

His face and the tone of his voice told me he meant what he was saying.

But it was a risk. If I took the cuffs off, he could make a run for it. If I left them on, it would certainly attract unwanted attention.

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