Page 8 of Patrick’s Seduction

“Be my guest, detective.” Officer Friedman nodded and turned away, clearly relieved.

Fallon stared at the pretty blonde woman who was taller than her, but around her age. She seemed out of place in the police station, dressed too casually for a detective, yet exuding an authority that inspired instant confidence in her abilities as a cop. There was a kind smile on her lips and warmth in her eyes.

“Dr. Doyle? I’m Detective Anita Diaz-Montgomery. I was alerted that you’re dealing with a stalker. I’ve come from police headquarters to see if I can help you. I’m sorry that you’ve been getting the runaround here, but luckily, one of the officers here sent me a message.”

Was this woman serious? A detective was getting involved in issuing a restraining order, when this was police grunt work at best?

“Detective? Uhm, will you be able to help me get a restraining order against my ex-boyfriend?”

“Why don’t we go into one of the interview rooms, so we can talk without being disturbed?” She glanced around, indicating the busy station where everybody talked over each other, and the noise level increased by the minute.

Fallon hesitated. Was this another attempt at making her understand that her experience with Cameron didn’t warrant a restraining order? That she was overreacting? That she was reading too much into her confrontation with her ex?

Detective Diaz-Montgomery seemed to sense her hesitation and put her hand on Fallon’s forearm. There was something comforting in the gentle touch.

“If you feel threatened by your ex, I will make sure that you’re safe. Whether that’s by having the court grant you a restraining order, or by getting you protection via other means. I promise you that.”

For the first time in hours, Fallon felt that somebody was really listening to her concerns and was taking them seriously. Was it because this was a woman? Did she know firsthand that verbal threats could instill just as much fear in a woman as physical violence? Had she seen the consequences of the police’s inaction in other cases? Had she seen women getting hurt because nobody believed them? It didn’t matter why this detective was willing to help her. It only mattered that she did.

“Thank you, detective. I appreciate your help.”

5

Patrick downed the blood in one big gulp and set the glass down on the bar, nodding at the vampire bartender who was on duty in the V Lounge, the large room on the ground floor of Scanguards HQ, where vampires and vampire hybrids could relax in between their shifts and drink blood. Like in a regular pub, there was a multitude of taps—though they dispensed blood sorted by blood group rather than beer. This was a service free of charge for any employee or visiting vampire to discourage them from drinking blood directly from humans.

Of course, not everybody partook of the free blood. All vampires blood-bonded to a human never touched the stuff, because they could only drink from their blood-bonded mate. All other blood would make them sick and eventually kill them. And then there were those vampires who had never gotten used to the bottled blood, and preferred to drink directly from the source—from a living, breathing human.

“Another one, Todd,” Patrick said, pointing to the empty glass.

“Stressed?” Todd asked with an understanding glance.

“Do I look it?” he deflected.

He’d been burning the candle at both ends, working double shifts since his parents had left for their dream vacation. At most, he got three or four hours of sleep in a twenty-four-hour period. To make up for the lack of sleep, he drank more blood than usual, feeding up to three times daily, when normally, he only needed one meal a day.

Todd shrugged while taking back the empty glass. “Just figured with you running the show here, you must be exhausted.”

Before Patrick could answer, he heard somebody approaching.

“There you are,” Anita said. “I was looking for you.”

Patrick turned to her. “Hey, Anita. Any news?”

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,” Anita said, tipping her chin toward the bar, where Todd was filling the glass.

For a human, Anita wasn’t squeamish about blood at all. There were two reasons for it: she was a police officer who’d seen her fair share of blood at crime scenes, and she was blood-bonded to his friend Cooper, a vampire hybrid, which meant that Cooper was drinking her blood at least once a day. At that thought, Patrick felt a twitch of envy travel up from his belly. The idea of feeding from a woman he loved was something he’d never experienced, although he’d bitten women before. He could only imagine the high Cooper experienced from this intimate act, drinking from his soulmate while making love to her.

“You’re not interrupting.” He approached Anita. “Did you get my update on what Buffy found during the autopsy?”

“You mean what she didn’t find? Yeah, got your message. But it’s not about that. At least not directly. A case just dropped in my lap.”

Patrick listened up. “And you think it might be connected to the murder in the Presidio?”

“It’s possible.”

“A physical assault?”

Anita shook her head. “No, a stalker.”