Free Night’s Edge by Barbara Hambly Page A

express incredulity, and he didn’t comment on Layla’s family’s behavior. He’d seen worse in his long life, but he hadn’t seen worse done tosomeone he cared about as much as he cared about Layla LaRue LeMay.
    “Does she call you?” Sean asked.
    “Yes, she does, from time to time. She’ll call here, or she’ll call the station to talk to Will, to find out if Carver’s out yet.”
    “And is he?”
    “Yes. After four years, he’s off all supervision now. He’s footloose and fancy-free.”
    “And is he living here?”
    “No. He left town right away.”
    “She saw him,” Sean said out loud.
    “Oh, no. Where?”
    “At a party, where we were dancing.”
    “Did he approach her?”
    “No.”
    “Did he see her?” Judith had hit the nail on the head.
    Sean said slowly, “I don’t know.” Then he said, “But I have to get back. Now.”
    Will said, “I hope you’re planning on being good to her. If I hear different, I’ll come back and track you down with a stake in my hand. She’s had enough trouble.”
    Sean stood and bowed, in a very old-fashioned way. “We’ll see you in Florida,” he said.
    He left Pineville, pushing the rental car to its limit, so he could make the last plane that would get him into the city in time to find a daytime resting place. There was a safe apartment very close to the airport, maintained by the vampire hierarchy. He called ahead to reserve a coffin, and got on the plane after making sure there was an emergency space in the tail where he could wait if sunlight caught them. But all went well, and he was in a room with three other occupied coffins by the time the sun came up.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    T HE PERSONNEL OF B LUE M OON Entertainment and Black Moon Productions were draped around the big practice room in various positions of weariness. It was a scant hour after darkness had fallen, and some of the vampires looked sluggish. Every one of them clutched a bottle of synthetic blood. Most of the humans had coffee mugs.
    Rue had come in full disguise. The more she’d thought about the glimpse she’d had of the man who’d looked so much like Carver Hutton IV, the more spooked she’d gotten. Between that fear and her upsetting spat with Sean, and the remembered tingle she’d felt when they kissed, she hadn’t been worth anything during the weekend so far. She’d performed her regular weekend chores, but in a slapdash fashion. She hadn’t been able to study at all.
    When Sean came in, wearing sweatpants and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, her pulse speeded up in a significant way. He folded to the floor by her, his back against the glass of the mirror as hers was, and scooted closer until their shoulders and hips touched.
    Sean was silent, and she was too self-conscious to look up at his eyes. She’d half expected to hear from him the night before, and when the phone hadn’t rung andthere’d been no knock at her door, she’d felt quite disconcerted. Men had seldom walked away from her, no matter how rocky their relationship had grown. I am not going to ask him where he’s been, she swore to herself.
    Sylvia was talking on the phone and smoking, which all the human dancers detested. She was doing it to prove she was the boss. Rue made a face and tried to arrange herself so her back was comfortable. The wall wasn’t friendly to her spine, which had been jolted when she caught Megan after Charles Brody had shoved her. Megan was moving a little stiffly. Hallie looked subdued and David seemed healed, as far as Rue could tell. She hoped this week would be a better one for the entertainment troupe as a whole.
    Rue sighed and tried to shift her weight slightly to her right hip. To her astonishment, in the next moment she felt herself being lifted. Sean had spread his legs, and he put her down between them, so her back rested against his stomach and chest. He scooted his butt out from the wall to give her a little incline. She was instantly more comfortable.
    Rue figured if she