"I'll have everything finished," she told Frank.
He gave her his version of a friendly smile, which still had a mercenary edge to it. "Ol'
Mackey told me I wouldn't regret hiring you."
And he told me you were a prick, Kira mentally added. Mack hadn't been wrong about his former partner, but Frank did display the occasional hint of kindness beneath his normal slave driver mentality. He didn't have to let Kira use the company car on assignments. He could've just hired someone else who had a vehicle. Kira knew she more than made up for use of the car in unpaid overtime, but still. Frank deserved a nod for that.
Her coworker, Lily, leaned over the space between their desks once Frank left the room. "First time you've taken off sick in over three years, and he has to make sure you regret it." Lily's mouth curled downward. "If there's a God, Frank'll be stricken with hemorrhoids. The pain in the ass deserves 'em."
Kira gave her a smile. "It's all right. A little more liquid incentive will help me get everything finished."
Lily frowned, the lines deepening in her forehead. "Coffee isn't supposed to be a substitute for sleep. You've got dark circles under your eyes, girl. You need to take care, or you'll get sick again."
"I'm all right," Kira said. She couldn't tell the sweet older lady that the circles under her eyes weren't from flu recuperation but because thoughts of a vampire kept her awake.
Despite its being several days since he let her go, Kira didn't seem to be able to get Mencheres out of her mind.
It shouldn't come as that much of a surprise. In the six days she'd been with Mencheres, he'd shown her that two other species existed alongside humanity, saved her life, saved her sister's life, fascinated her, tempted her, bitten her, and against the best interests of his kind, released her. Why wouldn't she be thinking about him? Every time she saw or spoke to her sister, Kira was reminded of Mencheres, let alone every time she walked past that warehouse on her commute from the subway to her apartment.
His impact on her life had been enormous, and now that he was gone, Kira felt an acute sense of loss.
She still couldn't believe he'd actually let her go. The first couple days, she'd expected Mencheres to pop up out of nowhere and say she had to come back. Some small, twisted part of her maybe even wanted him to, even though her common sense knew that was seriously unhealthy. Any situation where one person had complete power over the other wasn't just wrong; it was sick. The bottom line was that she'd been Mencheres's captive. A well-treated captive, perhaps, and even one for a good reason, but still.
Prisoner and warden was not the right circumstance for a romantic interaction, even a casual one.
Though Mencheres didn't seem to be interested in any type of interaction with her, romantic or otherwise. He let her go, the one thing that opened up the possibility of Kira exploring the draw she felt toward him, vampire or not, but then he'd given every indication that he wasn't coming back. If he wanted to see her again, he would have said so. He wouldn't have given her all that blood, enough for her to have no reason to contact him again - not that she had any means to contact him. She didn't know exactly where Mencheres had kept her for that week, and he hadn't left his phone number before he jetted off into the night. Face it, Kira thought bleakly. You've been dismissed.
On the bright side, he was probably too old for her by hundreds of years, and really, a human and a vampire? That never worked out. Look at all the Dracula movies. Or Buffy.
"Are you listening to me at all?" Lily's amused voice asked.
Kira yanked her thoughts from the darkly enticing vampire back to her coworker.
"Sorry, I . . . my mind wandered off," she said sheepishly.
"Told you that you need some sleep," Lily said. "But since I know you won't listen, let me at least get you some coffee. That way, you'll be able to get through the rest of the day without nodding off in front of Frank."
"Thanks, you're an angel," Kira said with a grateful smile. She did have a long day ahead of her still, and thinking about Mencheres wouldn't make the pile of papers on her desk get any smaller.
Coffee would help that paper pile get smaller, though. Lots and lots of coffee.
Eight hours later, Kira stepped off the transit car, pushing her hair behind her ear in weariness. It had blown free from its low bun sometime during her walk from her office to the ll station, and she hadn't bothered to clip it back. At least it wasn't long enough to obscure her vision as she walked up the steps to the street above. In fact, with it trailing inches past his shoulders, Mencheres had longer hair than she did . . .
Stop thinking about him, Kira reprimanded herself. She turned down the first of the three streets that led to her apartment, picking up her pace. It was one thing to be grateful at the strange twist of fate that had made her path cross with Mencheres, because though she had almost died, she'd also garnered the ability to keep her sister's disease at bay. But she wasn't musing about her sister's condition when she kept thinking about him.
She remembered how his black eyes could glitter with humor, how graceful and stealthily he moved, how mouthwatering he'd looked naked, and how she wished she'd spent more time learning about him when she'd been incarcerated at his house.
Mencheres was the only person she'd confided to about her instincts and how strongly she took them. To her surprise, he hadn't found that the slightest bit laughable or unusual.
Instead, he'd advised her to focus on them. To listen to them. Apparently, her inner compass hadn't seemed at all odd to someone who could fly and manipulate things with his mind.
Though if she listened to her instincts now, they'd keep repeating the same thing that had nagged at her the past several days - that she'd lost something important when Mencheres disappeared into the night. Was there something more she could have done to prevent him from going? Like, telling Mencheres she wanted to see him again instead of just asking if he was leaving for good without stating her preference in the matter?
Kira was so preoccupied with her thoughts that it took several seconds before she saw the dark form in the shadows by the front of her building. She tightened her hand on her backpack strap and kept going, pretending not to notice him even though every muscle tensed. When she was almost at the front door of her building, a hand shot out toward her. Kira's adrenaline surged as she ducked and swept out a hard kick to the man's ankle, slamming her heavy backpack into him next. Graduating from the police academy followed up by self-defense classes made her actions more reflex than planned.
"Ouch!" her would-be attacker yowled, staggering and hopping on one leg. "Kira, what the hell?"