Chasing Midnight

“It’s all right, Bruce.” Miss Chase toyed with the oddly old-fashioned locket that was her only jewelry, swinging the chain between her fingers. “It’s no wonder she has to sneak around, Mr. Durant, if this is the way you treat her. And anyway, since she’d already gotten here by herself, I didn’t figure she would become much more corrupt if she stayed for a few hours.”

One of Allie’s “pals” smothered a laugh. Griffin gazed at the faces about the table, men and women who considered illegal clubs their natural homes. Gemma, in her flimsy dress and bright-red lipstick, did indeed, look just like one of them.

A woman like Allegra Chase would draw Gemma to her as a blossom lures a bee. She was beautiful, witty, willful…and obviously contemptuous of the civilized standards that gave life its structure. It would be an easy matter for her to lead an innocent girl like Gemma to her ruin, even if she weren’t a vampire.

Griffin circled the table, ignoring Miss Chase, and stood over Gemma with folded arms. “Miss Spires admitted everything,” he said. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Gemma sank down into her chair. “I…I didn’t mean—”

“Do you know how many places like this Mal and I have searched tonight? I was beginning to think you…” He took a steadying breath, remembering that he mustn’t let any of them, his sister least of all, see him lose his composure. He picked up one of the numerous empty glasses on the table. “How much have you been drinking, Gemma?”

“We haven’t given her a thing,” Allegra said.

Gemma cast Allegra such a look of gratitude that Griffin was sure she was lying. He carefully replaced the glass and stared at Gemma until she lowered her gaze. “Where did you get that dress?”

“I…I ordered it two weeks ago. Griffin—”

“And your hair. How did that come about, might I ask?”

“I cut it for her,” Allegra said. “I think it’s very becoming.”

Griffin swung toward her, his tongue tripping on harsh words he couldn’t bring himself to speak. “You had no right,” he said. “She is my sister. My responsibility.”

Miss Chase continued to gaze at Griffin through half-lidded, kohl-rimmed eyes. “What bothers you most, Mr. Durant, Gemma’s clothes and hair, or the fact that she slipped out of your control for a few brief hours?”

“I beg your—” He broke off, refusing to take her bait. He cupped Gemma’s chin in his hand. “Do you have any conception of the trouble you’ve caused?”

“I…I didn’t think it would be dangerous…”

“You could have been hurt, Gemma. Don’t you understand that?”

All at once the noisy room seemed very quiet. Gemma set her jaw. “Allie wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.”

Griffin hesitated. Perhaps Gemma didn’t know what Allie was. Not all loups-garous could recognize strigoi by sight or smell. “Did you go out tonight expecting you’d find someone to take care of you? Is that it?”

“She didn’t come running to me,” Allegra said. “But if she were to find herself in a position where she couldn’t fight back, whose fault is that?”

“I don’t believe I take your meaning, Miss Chase.”

She shrugged, as if to dismiss her own comment, but the redheaded woman across the table snorted loudly and pulled a face. “You ought to know, sugar, that if it hadn’t been for Allie, you’d have had a real reason to worry.”

Griffin’s mouth went dry. “Gemma,” he said, “did someone…bother you tonight?”

“Allie took care of it,” said the man called Bruce, his mouth twisted in contempt.

“That’s why she took your sister under her wing,” said the slender man seated next to Bruce. “None of us meant any harm, Mr. Durant.”

Griffin well remembered how Miss Chase had been prepared to take on the muggers for the sake of her maid, but he found it hard to believe that any of these people knew of Allie’s true nature. “Who was this person?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Allegra said. “He’s gone, and he won’t be back.”

“I see.” He held her gaze. “It seems I owe you an apology, as well as my thanks, Miss Chase.”

She smiled with familiar mockery. “I accept your apology.”

“I hope you’ll allow me to repay the debt.”

“Let’s just say we’re even now, Mr. Durant.”

He looked away so she wouldn’t see how much he’d felt the sting of her rebuff. “In that case,” he said stiffly, “Gemma and I will be leaving.”

He helped Gemma out of her seat and draped his overcoat around her. She shivered in the crook of his arm. As he started for the door, he heard raised voices outside the building, and suddenly the men standing guard at the entrance turned and dashed for the bar. The bartender and waiters scrambled toward the darkened rear of the speakeasy. Men and women at the tables shouted questions and craned their necks to determine the source of the disturbance.

Allegra appeared beside Griffin. “It’s a raid,” she said. “The cops won’t arrest any of us, but you probably don’t want Gemma involved.”

“A raid?” Gemma said. “I want to see—”

“Out of the question,” Griffin said. “Do you have any suggestions, Miss Chase?”

“Come with me.”

She started at a fast pace toward the back of the room, leaving her friends chattering at the table. There was a scarred wooden door behind the bar, barely visible behind stacks of seemingly innocent fruit crates. Allegra opened the door and moved aside, ushering Griffin and Gemma into an unlit alley. The sour stink of urine struck Griffin with the force of a storm. A drunken man lay sprawled across the filthy ground; Griffin lifted Gemma in his arms and carried her to the end of the alley, setting her down on the sidewalk.

“You don’t have anything to worry about now,” Allegra said. She pushed a stray lock of hair out of Gemma’s face. “Your brother is right. You’ve had enough adventure for one night.”

Gemma tried to assume a sophisticated air, but it dissolved in a helpless yawn. Allegra’s eyes sparkled with a devastating combination of mischief and sympathy. Griffin looked at her and did his best not to let his body control his mind.

“Once again I owe you a debt of gratitude,” he said. “Even if you refuse to accept my obligation.”

She laughed. “You wouldn’t like it if I held you to that obligation. Anyway, Gemma made the evening considerably more amusing.”

“Is that truly all that matters to you, Miss Chase? Amusement?”

“What else is there?”

Her insouciant response troubled him past all reason. He’d seen plenty of evidence that she was a most unusual vampire, but he’d also begun to realize that she was not as lacking in character as he had at first chosen to believe.

“May I ask you a personal question?” he said.

“Shoot.”

He began to walk in the direction of the street, where Fitzsimmons waited a few blocks away with the limousine, supporting a sleepy Gemma with his arm about her waist. “There weren’t any other vampires at Lulu’s when I came in.”

“So?”

“So where is your patron, Miss Chase? It was my understanding that vampire patrons are notoriously jealous of their protégés and hardly encourage them to wander loose around the city.”

She fell into step beside him. “That may be true of most protégés, but not me.”