Carpathian 03 - Dark Gold
in a soft, pleasant voice the texture of velvet. A polite smile accompanied the words, a brief show of white teeth.
For no reason at all, Thomas felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. The hair on his body actually bristled in alarm. His mouth was so dry, he wasn't certain he could talk. He took a breath and decided to backpedal. A housekeeper he could handle; this man was altogether different. He held up a hand in the age-old symbol of peace. "Look, I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for coming on so strong. It was definitely the wrong way to handle the situation, but my friend is missing, and I'm very worried. I'm Thomas Ivan."
Aidan recognized the name immediately. The rising star of the computer-games industry, the imagination behind some astonishingly popular recent vampire video games, had come to call.
Aidan raised an eyebrow, his face expressionless. "Am I supposed to know you?"
Ivan was disconcerted. This interview had suddenly shifted ground, and he was no longer in control. Even his famous name didn't buy him the usual awe or entree. For some reason this man, as soft-spoken and polite as he was, scared the hell out of Ivan. He was frankly scarier than the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
vampires of his imagination. There was menace lurking just below his surface, as if the veneer of civilization was very thin, and a wild animal, powerful and predatory, prowled impatiently for release.
Thomas tried again. "I was dining with my friend, Alexandria Houton, two nights ago. She became ill and raced from the restaurant, leaving behind her portfolio, never to return. Her sketches are very important to her; she would never just leave them behind if she were all right.
Three other women disappeared that night, along with a homeless man. There was a terrible storm that night, and the police believe the missing people somehow went over the cliff.
Alexandria's car was found the next morning in the parking lot but soon thereafter removed by your caretaker." Ivan had given the parking attendant a good sum of money for that information.
"Alexandria is a close personal friend, Mr. Ivan," Aidan told him. "Her younger brother was waiting outside the restaurant for her when she became ill. He called me, and I brought them both here. Miss Houton is still quite ill and cannot receive visitors. I am certain she will be pleased to hear you have returned her briefcase. I will tell her you called." Aidan nodded in dismissal, those molten gold eyes never once blinking.
The smooth, pleasant voice made it clear that Thomas Ivan meant nothing to him. The odd part was, Ivan wanted to do as the man bade him. He actually extended the briefcase toward the man before he realized what he was doing. He quickly lowered his arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." He said it almost belligerently. He was not going to be pushed around. And he was not going to turn the briefcase over to a perfect stranger. How did he know this was the truth?
The perfect white smile appeared a second time. The smile sent chills crawling over Ivan's skin.
It was a predator's smile, as if the beast lurking below the surface had just been unleashed. It held no warmth, and those golden eyes glittered dangerously at him.
"I am Aidan Savage, Mr. Ivan. This is my home. I believe we both attended a party for Senator Johnson a year ago, but we were never introduced. I seem to recall now that you make up games of some kind."
Thomas winced visibly. The voice was musical, its notes so pure he couldn't help but want to hear it again and again. It seemed to work its way inside him and twist and turn until it was difficult to resist anything this man said. Yet somehow, despite the purity of Aidan Savage's voice, the words stung. Ivan was a huge success with his famous games; they were the hottest thing on the market. Worse, he had heard of the illusive, highly regarded, much sought-after Aidan Savage, and if a man with such a reputation and wealth were to reject Thomas outright, the social circles he ran in, both professional and personal, might also eject him. This was turning into a nightmare. Only his need for Alexandria Houton—also personal and professional—kept him rooted to the spot.
"I really must present this to Alexandria myself. Her work is very important to both of us. She was eager for a job with me, and I certainly am eager to give it
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