She did a complete turn, noting two doors leading out of the entry. Was anyone here? Realizing there were probably dead people tucked away in coffins in the back made her skin prickle. She recalled the funeral of the murdered girl she’d attended just a few days ago. Her vow to find Loraine’s killer wasn’t null, just …

“Can I help you?” The deep, annoyed-sounding voice came out of nowhere, and she almost jumped.

Damn it. Why hadn’t she heard him approach? Her hearing must be on the fritz again. She turned and tried to mask the panic on her face. The figure loomed in one of the doorways. And there was a lot of figure to loom.

The giant of a man, or giant of a vampire, wasn’t anywhere near geezer status. Dark-haired and olive-skinned, he reminded her of Burnett, a little older but just as menacing.

She saw him checking her pattern. His left brow arched slightly and he almost smiled as if happy to see her. The tension in her stomach kicked up a notch.

“Actually, I was looking for the owner.”

“And you’ve found him.”

“I thought … The website showed—”

“My stepfather recently died.” He didn’t sound upset.

“Then in that case … Yes. You can help me.” Her heart raced. It was decision time. Ask him outright for information, or ask questions as if interested in faking her own death.

“I was … my cousin’s funeral service was held here.”

“Was it?” he asked.

He didn’t look like the type to hand over information.

“My cousin wasn’t really dead,” she said.

The six-foot-plus vamp nodded. “I’m assuming you’re looking to follow in his footsteps? How long have you been turned?”

“I’ve considered faking my own death,” she answered, thankful it was the truth. But she neglected answering his second question.

“I also had an uncle whose service you held … years ago.”

“The strand of virus you carry must be strong,” he stated.

“I was hoping to find my family. Do you … do you keep records?”

“Me? Not so much. But my stepfather—God rest his weak do-gooder soul—was a stickler for such.” His cold smile told her just how much he cared about his stepfather. “Of course, this is no longer his business. The rules and such have changed.”

“Do you still have his records?” she asked.

“Lucky for you I haven’t gotten around to tossing them out yet. But, as I said, this isn’t my stepfather’s business anymore. I … don’t offer my services for free. I offer fresh turns at a new life. And in return I ask for a few years of their service to either myself or one of my clients who are in need of various domestics.”

“Domestics?” she asked, thinking “slavery” sounded like a better term. Or hadn’t this kind of thing happened in the past and they called them indentured servants?

His gaze moved over her with the same kind of disgusting look as the drunk creeps on the street. She had a feeling she knew what kind of services he’d expect.

“If you’d like, we can go back to my office and discuss the legalities of the contract.” He waved for her to follow him.

“There’s a contract?” She didn’t move, unsure going back with him was wise. Then again, she did need to see those files. Decisions, decisions.

“Oh, yes. We are careful not to break any laws that might bring us trouble. Being a fresh turn, you may not know it, but there are officials who monitor supernaturals. Idiots who think we should be registered and regulated.”

Yeah, I kinda help those idiots out. “Really?” she asked, not lying again. But too bad about him not wanting trouble. As soon as she left here, she was contacting Burnett and the FRU about this little operation. He’d read her the riot act for coming here, but she had a feeling the riot act would be worth it. Her gut told her this guy needed to be stopped.

She felt someone walk behind her. And not Kylie or Miranda. The heavy footsteps told her it was someone big. She really needed her hearing to stop going out on her so she’d be better prepared to deal with heavy-footed surprises.

“Why don’t we do as Mr. Anthony suggested and follow him?” The guy behind gave Della a nudge—a strong one. One that left a strong suspicion that signing that contract wasn’t really a choice.

She took the next few steps, then hesitated, praying Kylie and Miranda would move with her. When the big dude poked her again, she continued following Mr. Anthony.

He led her to a huge office, with a whole wall lined with file cabinets. She nodded to them. “Are those your father’s records?”

He glanced back. “As a matter of fact, they are.” He smiled. “Let me explain to you how this works.” He motioned for her to take a seat in the straight-backed chair in front of the big oak desk.

“Why don’t you sweeten the deal first and let me peek at my cousin’s and uncle’s files?”

He propped his butt on the side of his desk and chuckled. “You are a bit obstinate. But I have several clients who actually prefer a little spunk in their servants.”

He had no idea how much spunk she had.

“Sit,” he ordered.

She debated whether doing as he said would win her anything, then decided to try. She lowered herself into the chair. Her elbow touched something sticky. Glancing down, she noted the duct tape hanging from the arm of the chair as if someone had been confined there.

Trying not to show any emotion, especially any trace of the fear that curled up inside her chest, she faced him again.

“Now what?” she asked. Her gaze shifted behind the man to where about six rolls of duct tape sat on top of the file cabinet. Taping people up must be his thing.

He stood up, reached into his desk, and handed her a piece of paper. “The contract is simple. You agree to work for two years, exclusively for the person I assign as your guardian. Your title and the type of work required of you will depend upon your guardian’s … needs.”

The way he said “needs” made her skin crawl. “And if I don’t like the work?”

“If you choose not to complete the tasks that are assigned to you, your guardian will try to persuade you otherwise.”

“Persuade? As in beat me?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Your guardian is much like your parent. If you follow the rules, there should be no reason for punishment.”

Yeah, she believed that.

“I’m sure having been recently turned, you know the hardships of securing food. Have you killed yet?”

He said it coldly, as if to get a reaction from her. She decided not to answer and let him assume the worst.

“So you have. You need help, Miss…?”

“Tsang,” she answered.

“Asian?” he asked, studying her as if she didn’t fit that bill.

“Half.” The word tasted bad on her tongue.

“Many of my clients like Asian.”

She was sure he didn’t mean for the sleaze to leak out of his voice, but it did. She tightened her hands until her fingernails cut into her palms.

“For their loyalty of course,” he added.

Oh, she was loyal all right. And right now her loyalties were on taking this guy’s ass down.

“Statistics prove that without help, you will kill ten people within six months. It’s not your fault, you simply can’t help yourself. Of course, that is if you make it six months. You see, other supernaturals exist, like werewolves. They make finding and killing fresh turns a sport.”

Della knew most of what he said was bullshit, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t had Chan, if she hadn’t found Shadow Falls, if she might have bought into all his lies. And how many new vampires were right now servants to this creep and his clients? The thought turned her stomach.

He pulled a pen out from his pocket and handed it to her. “All I need is for you to sign on the dotted line and then we’ll see about finding those files you’d like and preparing your burial service.”

When she didn’t immediately start scribbling her name, he continued, “Believe me, if your parents knew what you are, they would be grateful that you have chosen to fake your own death so they don’t have to see you like this.”

She glanced down at the paper, trying to figure out when to put a stop to this nonsense. “Two years seems like an awful long time.”

“It’s nothing. As a matter of fact, I’ve been doing this at my other funeral home for years. There are many servants who choose not to leave their guardians. Once you learn to meet their expectations, it’s easy to live the life your keeper has set out for you. You get food and care. It’s not a bad life.”

And I bet slave owners said the same thing in the eighteen hundreds. She shook her head. “I hate to bother you, but I think I might like to see those files before making up my mind.”

The hand of the brute standing behind her fell to her shoulder. “Let’s not upset Mr. Anthony. He’s not a pleasant man when he’s annoyed.” He started to squeeze, hard, then harder. The pain became almost unbearable.

“Is that really necessary?” Della asked through gritted teeth, trying not to look relieved when his grip lessened. She glanced back at Mr. Anthony, who reached for the duct tape.

She’d heard that duct tape was good for everything, but would it really hold a vampire? She didn’t want to test it.

She dropped her pen. “Oops.” She leaned down, and whispered to Kylie, “I think I can handle this on my own.”

“What did you say?” Mr. Anthony asked.

When Della rose to her feet, the brute behind her grabbed her arm. She didn’t hesitate, turning, and with everything she had, she buried the pen into his forearm. He roared.

Mr. Anthony, roll of tape in hand, lunged across the desk. As he started to unroll the tape, Della buried her shoe in his face. He fell back against the desk. She grinned with pride. Or she did until the door swung open and three more hulky-looking vampires stormed in.

“Now it gets interesting,” Della seethed.

Kylie appeared, standing in front of them in all her glory. Everything about her glowed with power. Her hair, her eyes, even her skin. She grabbed one big guy, and using him like bowling ball, she knocked down the other two goons.

But one of them popped right back up, his eyes green with fury and his fangs lengthened.

Della was about to move in to help her take down this brute when Mr. Anthony recovered from his foot-to-the-face incident and leapt at her.

She ducked as his fist came at her jaw, and at the same time honored him with another well-placed kick to his ribs.

Kylie bounced around the room, kicking, hitting, and outshining the two other vampires. Della continued to take on Mr. Anthony.

“What the hell are you?” one of the thugs fighting Kylie screamed out.

“Your worst nightmare,” Kylie bit out.

“Look what I found,” the goon who still had a pen buried in his arm yelled out.

Della, still taking on Mr. Anthony, didn’t want to look, but when she heard Miranda’s squeal she couldn’t help it.

The pen-stabbed vamp had Miranda by the throat. Della’s chest nearly exploded with fury. She felt her fangs grow, and she heard and felt Kylie’s roar fill the room.

“One more move from either of you and I’ll snap the little witch’s neck! And I’ll enjoy doing it.”

Chapter Nineteen

Della saw the look in the big brute’s eyes. He meant it. He’d kill Miranda.

Della shot Kylie one quick glance. Their eyes met briefly and the decision was made. Kylie held up her hands, as if not willing to chance it. Della did the same thing. Fear and panic built in her chest. She had to find a way out of this.

She glanced back at Miranda, expecting to see complete terror in the girl’s eyes. Instead, the little witch was looking down at her hands. Della followed Miranda’s gaze and saw her wiggle her right pinkie.

The realization of what the witch was doing hadn’t completely set in when it happened. The five supersized vampires in the room all turned into kangaroos. Very pissed off and huge, but befuddled kangaroos.

And befuddled was good. It gave Della and Kylie the upper hand.

The kangaroo goon who’d had Miranda by the throat started flapping his short arms as if trying to reach Miranda’s neck. Della did a flying leap into the air and planted both of her feet right in the animal’s face. He wavered on his big kangaroo feet, then fell to the ground, knocked out cold.

Wasting no time, she turned to help Kylie. Much to her disappointment, the chameleon stood above four unconscious kangaroos.

“Everyone okay?” Kylie asked, her voice deepened by her protective mode.

“Yep.” Della glanced at Miranda, who stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, looking panicked.

“You okay?” Della asked Miranda.

The girl nodded.

Della grinned at the witch. “I never thought I’d say this, but you saved our butts.”

Miranda glanced up, and her panicked expression faded. Her shoulders came up and a slight smile appeared in her eyes. “I did, didn’t I?”

The kangaroo still sporting a pen buried in his arm woke up and bolted to his feet as if ready to go another round. Della, not missing a beat, coldcocked him right in his ugly pink nose. Then she looked back at Kylie and motioned to the top of the file cabinets. “The duct tape. Let’s wrap up this problem.”

Della hauled one reddish-furred kangaroo over to Kylie’s four, and tossed him into the pile. Yeah, it was a little embarrassing that Kylie had taken down four to her one, but then again, Kylie was a protector. Della could still hold up her head.