Free Exist (Vampire Assassin League Book 30) by Jackie Ivie

air that matched hers. His eyes were tender. Warm. And looked nothing like an angry man. Her heart hurt. Her head wasn’t far behind. Great. Just great, Leah. This delusion was taking a major downturn. That wasn’t fair. This was her fantasy. She shouldn’t have to deal with falling in love with a fictitious man – one who not only could demonstrate physical vampiric traits, which wasn’t even possible for Schizophrenia – but might have just exhibited classic signs of Manic Depressive Disorder, too?
    Oh shit.
    What was wrong with her? She did not just think of love! Oh no. No. No, Leah. She didn’t feel anything like that for Anso. Just. No .
    A loud ringing sound split the silence that followed his statement. It was followed by the sound of wood splitting. Leah watched as one of his tables fell. The bed bounced, tilting the view, as Anso bolted from it.
    “Where are you going?”
    “That is the Sat phone. I must answer it.”
    “You have a satellite phone?” Her eyebrows rose.
    “Yes.”
    He disappeared through a dark span of gloom that was an obvious doorway before she had a chance to ask why he didn’t know what an online search meant if he had a Sat phone. Her mind was having trouble linking the words, anyway. He wasn’t wearing anything and that view was something she’d never seen before. And pretty damn nice. Somewhere in college, she’d learned that the Ancient Greeks had run their Olympic races in the nude.
    Hmm .
    It was easy to see why.
    Anso reappeared before she’d finished the thought, a large phone in his hand. She watched him punch some buttons. Blinked a couple of times in semi-disbelief. Not only at his speed – which she should be used to by now – but the man hadn’t donned a scrap of fabric. The view from this side was even nicer than watching him running. He stuck the phone to his ear.
    “Yes?”
    ‘Hello! Is this Anso?’
    Oh. Looked like more weirdness was on her plate this morning – if it was even really morning. She could hear the caller’s voice. Easily. Clearly. It was a young male and he was rushing through his words. Or...he was from New York. She had several patients who hailed from New York. They all spoke in a rapid-fire fashion.
    ‘ You took forever to answer, man. You are Anso? Yes? Come on, man! Speak up! ’
    “Yes,” Anso replied.
    ‘ Great. Look. Nigel Beethan here. That won’t mean anything to you. You’ve probably never even heard of me. ’
    “No.”
    ‘ Okay. Well, I’m a Beethan, and one of the Hunter Beethan’s, but I’m not a Beethan Hunter. Clear as mud? ’
    “No. I mean yes.”
    ‘ Forget it! Listen . I’m Akron’s assistant. I run the desk sometimes. ’
    “Oh.”
    ‘You really know how to fill airspace with words, don’t you?’
    “What?” Anso asked.
    ‘ Forget it. Not important. Look! I have a really big problem on my hands and a very small window of opportunity here. You’re six foot five? Right? ’
    “I am...not certain,” Anso replied.
    ‘ But you’re a big guy, right? Your file sketch puts you at six foot five – maybe six foot six, and you look close to two hundred and...ninety, maybe?’
    “Pounds?”
    ‘ Well...yeah. Duh. ’
    Anso didn’t like the fellow’s tone. She watched him straighten. Flex a few muscles. Tighten more of them. It lifted a few things. The view was really incredible. Leah sighed. He sent a glance her way. Flushed again. Went back to his call. She was hard-put not to giggle.
    “I am nineteen-and-a-half stone.”
    Six foot six – and whatever nineteen-and-a-half stone calculated to – looked really good to her. And here she’d thought Steve’s firefighter brother was a god-among-mankind at six foot two and maybe two hundred.
    ‘ Oh. Geez. Old farts! Ask a simple question; get a messed-up, archaic, non-calculable answer. The record says you were some kind of tribal warlord. Changed in 810. Right? ’
    “Yes.”
    Leah gasped. It wasn’t audible. And it was stupid. Anso’s answer fit