“Bennett, my decision to become a vampire has been etched in stone since I was in my teens. You know that, but between my feelings for you and knowing how many times women have hurt you, I suddenly found myself in an impossible situation. On the one hand, I wanted to let you know how I felt because I’d seen you look at me, Bennett, and I know you like me.”

“Of course I like you.”

“Yet another nice try, but that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” Lisa said through a you-can’t-fool-me smile. “Where was I? Oh right…and on the other hand, if I had made my feelings known and then became like Desiree or Eliza, I would have just added to your pain, and I couldn’t do that. I just couldn’t. So, I kept my sexuality and my feelings to myself. I knew there’d never be anyone else for me because of how I feel about you, and there hasn’t been. I broke it off with Jasmine as soon as I returned to school, and I haven’t been with another woman since then. My plan was to bide my time, wait until I was a full-fledged vampire, and if I didn’t morph into some kind of maniacal monster, then I’d make my feelings known…which is what I’m doing right now.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Max threw himself back into his chair, scraping his fingers through his hair as he huffed out his disgust. Since the wee hours of Sunday morning, he had called every mortal contact he had in the area, waking them from their sleep to gather whatever intel there was on Napoleon’s estate, except there wasn’t any to gather. Like Max had done with all his properties, Napoleon had erased its existence from prying eyes. There were no plot plans or floor plans in any county or city building, and all the images on Google Earth had been pixelated to remove any details. Even the forest service’s topographical maps were somehow manipulated to remove the structure, so the only thing at Max’s disposal was useless maps showing large splotches of pixelated areas where Max knew a home existed.

Max drummed his fingers on the desk, and when his eyes settled on the maps covering it, he shoved them aside and got to his feet. He glanced at the decanters on the credenza and then at the longcase clock, deciding that at ten in the morning, coffee was what he needed. He stepped from his office and found Polly and Angelique stationed just outside.

Both women stood from their chairs as soon as Max appeared.

“I appreciate your diligence, ladies,” Max said, dipping his head. “Where are the others?”

“I have them standing guard outside the Rooney’s rooms,” Polly said. “Angie volunteered to keep me company.”

“Is the house shuttered?”