course. Shall we go somewhere more private? The dressing room should be empty."
Judging by the way the blood was rushing away from his head, being alone with her in a lockable room was probably a bad idea. He held out his arm anyway. "Lead the way."
She did, and he had to force his eyes to look at the back of her head and not her perfect, heart-shaped ass. Of course, staring at the back of her head only shoved another sordid thought into his brain. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and focused on the point just above her silky, blond hair.
On the stage behind them, a band started with an aggressive drum riff and some screaming lyrics just as she pushed open a chipped and peeling, black painted door. The furnishings, like the rest of the backstage area were somewhat run down. A couch, armchair, and coffee table lounged at one side of the room, a huge mirrored vanity with four stalls at the other. Only one stall was occupied with neatly arranged makeup and hair styling accessories. Racks for clothing lined the wall leading to a bathroom and adjacent kitchen sink with mini-fridge.
She held the door open for him. "Have a seat," she said. "May I get you something to drink? Coffee perhaps?"
It was after nine p.m., why on earth would she assume he wanted coffee? He could certainly use a cup, but the offer didn't make sense. She didn't know about his excessive caffeine needs.
"No, thank you."
He sat on the worn red couch. Patches of the arm were threadbare, and the springs groaned when he sank onto them. With impeccable posture, Angel took a seat at the vanity and steadied her gaze on him. There was something about the way her brown eyes drank him in that was odd. He should be scrutinizing her, not the other way around.
"You were asking about Lohr…?"
"Let's start with the Forever Dark Vampire Ball." In spite of a spring digging painfully into his thigh, Kevin felt surprisingly relaxed, calm, and at ease, kind of like the way he felt after a big meal. He wondered if it was an accumulation of the alcohol he'd consumed earlier or the woman before him. She seemed to radiate calm .
"What would you like to know?"
"Tell me about the blood room. Specifically Kate Miller and Melanie Young in the blood room."
Her manicured brows pushed together. "Kate was a guest of Lohr's, and I took her and Melanie to him. Kate wasn't comfortable, so I escorted her out."
"What about Melanie?"
"She did not seem to share Kate's discomfort."
"What happens in this blood room ?"
She leveled her gaze on him. "What do you think?"
He found himself smiling. "Humor me."
She smiled back and his eyes flickered to her mouth. Two tiny white fangs flashed beneath her ruby red lipstick. "Blood sharing. And probably some heavy petting."
"Did you stay? After escorting Kate from the room?"
"Briefly."
He tried to lift his gaze to her eyes where it belonged but found himself fixated on watching her speak. Her soft lips, the peek of a sharp fang…
"I went back to confirm Melanie was all right. But a blood room is not my … scene." She said the word like it was an apology. He wasn't sure why. "I'm very confused," she continued. "What is going on?"
"You are aware Lohr has been arrested?"
She looked shocked. The feeling of calm in the room faltered. "No."
"What is the nature of your relationship with him?"
"We are associates and business partners. I usually handle entertainment for his public events. Why was he arrested?"
"Do you attend his private events?"
"Sometimes. They are few and far between these days. Lohr spends much of his time away from New Orleans."
"Are you a member of his coven?"
"No," she said slowly. He wondered if it was the whole truth. "Please, Officer…"
"Detective McCoy."
"Please, Detective McCoy, tell me what has happened."
He assumed word would have spread by now even though the police hadn't released any information to the media. Apparently Armand and crew were more discrete than he would have suspected.
"Lohr is being