Free Time of Death by J. D. Robb

the club, and back on street level. As far as Dorian knew she’d backed him up, 100 percent.
    She was nearly home. She was safe.
    Still, she stayed in the streetlights where she could as she recited Eve’s office code. When she reached voice mail, she took a long breath.
    “Lieutenant Dallas, this is Allesseria Carter, the bartender at Bloodbath.”
    She paused, looking over her shoulder again as those nerves dug in like claws. Had she heard something? Footsteps, a rustle in the breeze?
    But she saw nothing but light and shadow, the black, blank windows in the buildings.
    Still, she increased her pace, felt her knees tremble as she hurried. “I need to talk to you, um, talk to you about Tiara Kent. If you could contact me as soon—”
    He came out of nowhere, charging in like some dark and brutal wind. Shock had her sucking in air as she whirled around, as she stumbled back. She managed one choked-off scream as his hand closed over her throat, squeezing out even that single panicked gulp. The black eyes stared into hers when her ’link went flying. As if she weighed nothing at all, he lifted her off the ground.
    “You,” he said in a quiet, almost pleasant tone, “made a very tragic mistake.”
    She kicked, her legs dancing and dangling like a hanging man’s when he dragged her out of the circle of light from the street lamp. Red dots exploded in front of her eyes while her lungs screamed for air and her hand fumbled wildly for her panic button.
    Her feet thudded on broken steps, and tears spurted out of her eyes. They bulged in horror when he smiled and she saw, impossibly, the flash of fangs.
    In the dark, those gleaming points sank into her neck.

    The minute she was dressed in the morning, Eve snagged a second cup of coffee. “I’m going to check my home office machine, see if I got anything from the lab overnight.”
    “Being a bit obsessive, aren’t you?” Roarke asked from where he sat, scanning the morning financials on the bedroom screen. “It’s barely seven.”
    “You have your obsessions.” She nodded toward the maze of numbers. “I have mine.”
    “Check it from your pocket ’link, then. Have something to eat while you’re about it.”
    “How am I supposed to check my office messages with my pocket’link?”
    Roarke only sighed, rose. He walked to her and held out a hand. “They’re all connected, my technology-challenged darling, hence the term ’link .”
    “Yeah, yeah, but then you have to remember all these codes and sequences, and it’s just easier to . . .”
    He punched a command while she frowned at him. “Relay any new incomings on home unit Dallas,” he ordered.
    Acknowledged . . . There are no incomings since last operator use on home unit Dallas . . .
    “Huh. Okay, not as complicated as I thought. Can I check my unit at Central?”
    He only smiled. “Relay any new incomings on office unit Dallas, Cop Central.”
    Acknowledged . . . There is one new incoming transmission on voice mail . . .
    “Damn it.” She grabbed the ’link out of Roarke’s hand. “I told them to contact me here as soon as they had—”
    Lieutenant Dallas, this is Allesseria Carter, the bartender at Bloodbath.
    “Conscience got to her,” Eve decided, watching the face on-screen. “Walking home, it looks like. Looks spooked.”
    I need to talk to you, um, talk to you about Tiara Kent. If you could contact me as soon—
    There was a sound—a rush of wind? Eve saw a black-gloved hand, the blur of it whip in and close over Allesseria’s throat.
    “Fuck! Goddamn it.” Eve’s own hand clamped on Roarke’s arm as the screen image blurred, the ’link struck the sidewalk, and the display went black.
    “Play it back again,” she ordered Roarke as she yanked out her communicator. “Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. I need a unit, closest possible unit at . . .” She flipped quickly through her memory to the address she’d pulled out of Allesseria’s data, then snapped it out. Repeated it.