vampires in america 7 - Aden Read Online Free PDF Page A

but I was thinking of Stig.”
    “Maybe he should have gone with his strengths then. His people came out firing MP5s.”
    “Stupid. Oh well, onward and upward. Stay alive, my friend. The real battle is ahead of us.”
    “I plan on it, my lord.”
    Aden tucked the phone back in his pocket thoughtfully. “Bastien, I’d like confirmation of Silas’s involvement in this as soon as possible. I need to know if there’s another player out there. If someone has enough cunning to use Stig against both of us, I need to know who it is before we end up as dead as Stig.”

Chapter Three
     
    “DO WEAR SOMETHING more suitable, Ms. Reid,” Sidonie simpered, mocking Aden’s parting words to her. She lowered her voice to better replicate the vampire’s rumbling bass for the rest of it. “I’m rather fond of redheads.” She frowned, wondering what the hell he’d meant by that last remark, her suspicious nature not letting her believe he’d simply been admiring her coloring.
    Her frown deepened as she stared at the full-length mirror. Or not so much at the mirror, which was an antique and rather lovely, but at her own reflection which was  . . . not. Her hair wasn’t having a good day, flying everywhere, and she had circles under her eyes thanks to several weeks of night-owling with vampires. She wasn’t exactly a morning person normally, more of a midday person, preferring to stay up late and sleep late. But there was a big difference between staying up late and staying up all damn night.
    Not that she cared about her sleep-deprived looks, or not overmuch, anyway. Her blood would taste the same whether she was tired or not. Her scowl was aimed at the scooped neckline of the sweater she’d chosen for the evening. She wanted to seduce Aden, the overbearing jerk, but she didn’t want to hang out an all-you-can-eat sign. Still, she’d chosen the sweater with seduction in mind, and it did fit perfectly. It accented the figure she worked hard to maintain, and the burnt-gold color brought out the copper highlights in her hair. Also, being cashmere, it wouldn’t shed all over her black wool slacks. It was just that neckline .
    Her phone rang, and she spun away from the mirror, grabbing it and checking caller ID, frowning when it wasn’t the call she was waiting for. She answered anyway.
    “Hi, Will,” she said.
    “Hey, Sid. Let’s do dinner tomorrow.”
    “You’ll be in town?” she asked, ignoring the obvious that, of course, he’d be in town, or why else would he be asking her to dinner?
    “Driving up in the morning, staying until Saturday,” Will said cheerfully. He didn’t even call her on the stupid question, but then he wouldn’t. William W. Englehart was a genuinely nice guy. The guy her parents assumed would be her husband someday. Once upon a time, Sid had thought so, too. He was handsome and charming and had outstanding career prospects. He was a considerate lover and an excellent dinner companion. All the checkmarks were in the right column on the perfect boyfriend list.
    There was only one thing missing. Passion. Sid didn’t love him. At least, not that way.
    “I’m not sure about dinner,” she told him now. “I’m doing a lot of work at night. How about lunch on Wednesday instead?”
    “Still doing the big story?” From someone else, the question might have sounded mocking, but not from Will.
    “Yeah. I’m making progress, though.”
    “Good for you. It’s a date. Lunch Wednesday, and maybe I’ll talk you into dinner later.”
    That was the other thing about Will. He didn’t love her that way either, but he was more than willing to marry her, because he agreed with their parents. They would be an excellent match, and he bought into the whole dynastic marriage idea. In her more depressing moments, she sometimes envisioned their future together, with each of them discreetly finding the passion they desired outside their marriage, and neither one caring as long as the only children—and, of