The Real Werewives Of Vampire County Part 15

The doc.u.ments that Troy had produced clearly revealed that the Miami addresses were fake, along with Luc's supposed references.

But why?

It wasn't as if she was freaking Katy Perry. Becoming her bodyguard wasn't some fantastic position that a man would lie to acquire.

"I'm sorry," Troy murmured softly.

"Not nearly as sorry as I am," she muttered, wrapping her arms around her waist. Why did she suddenly feel so cold? "What's that saying, 'There's no fool like an old fool'?"

She heard the imp cross to stand directly behind her, his hands landing lightly on her shoulders.

"You aren't a fool, Sophia," he a.s.sured her. "Luc managed to deceive us all."

"Yeah, but you're not sleeping with him."

"Only because he didn't ask."

Sophia started to smile when she was abruptly struck by a thought that made her heart clench in agony.

"Holy s.h.i.+t."

Giving her shoulders a tug, Troy turned her to meet his searching gaze.

"What?"

"He could be working with the maniac who has been stalking me," she breathed. "h.e.l.l, he could be the stalker."

Troy gave a firm shake of his head. "No, he's not the stalker. That's one thing I'm absolutely certain of."

So was she.

Her lips thinned as the thought whispered through the back of her mind.

She had proof that he had lied to her from the beginning of their relations.h.i.+p. Why did she find it impossible to accept he would ever do anything to hurt her?

"How can you know?"

With a grimace he moved back to the briefcase he'd left on her desk, pulling out yet another folder.

"Because he's one of Salvatore's most trusted lieutenants," he said, pressing the file into her hands. "Here."

She leaned against the window, her head dizzy as she tried to process yet another shock.

d.a.m.n the King of Weres.

She had known when Salvatore capitulated so easily to her refusal to join them in Styx's lair that he was up to something. Something devious.

He was a Were who always believed he knew best.

So the fact that he had somehow managed to discover she was seeking a bodyguard and had planted his own trusted soldier into her house to keep an eye on her wasn't at all a surprise.

But that didn't make Luc's deception any easier to bear.

He might not be her stalker, but he'd used her desire and all too vulnerable emotions to make sure he could remain close to her and fulfill his duty to his king.

The ... jacka.s.s.

Her gaze dropped to the folder she was clutching in her hand.

"What's this?"

"The information my private investigator managed to dig up. At considerable expense, I might add." Troy shook his head. "The man buried his ident.i.ty deeper than Jimmy Hoffa."

"You have a private investigator?" she absently demanded, flicking through the various pages.

She paused to take in the photos of the large stucco mansion surrounded by palm trees that was Luc's true home and an unmistakable picture of Luc and Salvatore meeting in a park several miles west of Chicago.

Another shaft of pain sliced through her heart.

"It's a dangerous world these days," Troy explained. "You can't trust anyone."

"No s.h.i.+t." She threw the folder across the room, watching the papers fan across her carpet.

Troy nervously cleared his throat. "Are you going to be okay?"

Was she?

At the moment she wasn't entirely certain.

The pain and disappointment clawing through her felt lethal.

Then realizing that the imp was watching her with a sympathy she couldn't stomach, she gave a toss of her hair.

"I'm Sophia," she announced, her head held high. "No man's going to get me down. Even if he is a lying, mangy piece of s.h.i.+t."

Troy gave a snap of his fingers, a smile curving his lips. "You go, girl."

"Now, if you'll excuse me."

Sophia headed for the door, her need to find Luc an overwhelming compulsion.

"Uh, Sophia," Troy called out.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"If you decide to kill Luc you need to make sure you hide the body," he warned. "I doubt that your son-in-law would be happy to learn you offed his most trusted soldier."

A humorless smile curved her lips. "Actually I was thinking I could use a new fur rug in front of my fireplace."

Troy's eyes widened. "Yikes."

Leaving the office, Sophia headed out of the club, her fierce glare keeping the milling employees at bay.

She wasn't in the mood to deal with clogged drains and missing G-strings.

In fact, the only thing she was in the mood for was blood and mayhem.

Storming out a side door, she was halfway across the parking lot when she heard a faint click. She slowed her furious pace at the same minute she felt a p.r.i.c.k in her upper chest. Looking down she realized there was a small dart sticking from her skin.

What the ... ?

That was as far as her confused mind managed to get before her muscles became paralyzed and she was tumbling toward the paved ground. Then her head was smacking face-first into the pavement and the entire world exploded into black.

Waking, Sophia cautiously held herself still as she took stock.

She hadn't gone to the great kennels in the sky, thank the G.o.ds.

She had a throbbing head, and she could feel an odd metal collar strapped around her neck, but the rest of her seemed to be back in working order.

Cautiously she allowed her senses to spread further.

She was in a bas.e.m.e.nt, she realized with a stab of surprise. Or at least underground.

And night had fallen while she had been conked out.

Oh, and the stench of cur was thick in the air.

The same scent she'd caught mere seconds before she'd been shot by the dart.

A growl trickled from her throat as she wrenched open her eyes to discover Morton leaning over her, his face the nasty color of paste in the fluorescent light.

"You." She surged to a sitting position, barely noticing the narrow cot beneath her as Morton hastily backed away. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

With a visible effort the cur halted his retreat, gathering his shaken courage as he sent her a chiding glare.

"Now, Sophia, I must insist that the mother of my children not use such foul language," he informed her. "It's indecent."

Still weak from whatever poison he'd pumped into her system, Sophia swayed on the edge of the cot, wondering which of them had lost their minds.

She was betting on the cur.

"Mother?" She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Are you mental?"

Pinp.r.i.c.ks of crimson flashed through the pale eyes. "Don't push me."

Oh, pus.h.i.+ng him was going to be the last of the little p.r.i.c.k's concern once she got her strength back, she a.s.sured herself, glancing around the six-by-six-foot cell that was paneled with sheets of silver.

"Where are we?"

"My private lair beneath Victoria's house." He regained command of his composure, one hand smoothing down his white polo s.h.i.+rt. His other hand held a small device that Sophia suspected was some sort of weapon. "Don't worry, she knows better than to come down here. We won't be interrupted."

Her lip curled in scorn. "Does she suspect that you're a psychopath?"

She had barely finished her taunt when Morton pressed a b.u.t.ton on the device and the collar around her neck began to sizzle. The next thing she knew a ma.s.sive jolt of electricity speared through her body, nearly toppling her off the cot onto the cement floor.

"s.h.i.+t," she breathed.

"I did warn you."

She clenched her teeth, imagining the pleasure of gutting the pasty-faced cur over and over and over... .

"What do you want with me?"

"I told you," he scolded. "I've chosen you to be the mother of my children."

"No doubt in your demented mind you think I should be honored by the offer, but I'm afraid I'll have to take a pa.s.s." Her stomach heaved at the mere thought. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Even prepared for the bolt of electricity, Sophia couldn't halt her yip of pain, her legs trembling and sweat coating her skin.

"You will learn," Morton growled.

Her hand weakly lifted toward the metal wrapped around her neck.

"Christ, where the h.e.l.l did you get this thing?"

"I invented it myself," the cur preened, as if expecting Sophia to admire his handiwork. "Just as I invented the serum that knocked you out. I'm a scientist."

"So was Dr. Frankenstein," she muttered. "You know how that turned out."

Zap.

She leaned down until her forehead touched her knees, fighting against the urge to vomit.

"You will learn to respect me," Morton abruptly shouted, clearly unhinged by her refusal to play the game by his rules.

Not surprising.

Morton-the-cur was a born victim who had no doubt been bullied and mocked by others his entire life.

"Why?" she demanded. "Because you can create torture devices?"

"That's merely my hobby." His smile was edged with a smug pride. "My true genius is chemistry. Which is why Caine hired me."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

Caine was currently missing along with her daughter Ca.s.sandra.

At one time he'd been under the sway of a demon lord who'd convinced him that he was destined to change curs into pure-blooded Weres.