A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(8)

Three other times over the past weeks, after she'd felt that odd chill, she'd looked out the window to find this exact same scene. Why? If it weren't for all the other strangeness in her life, she might think she was hallucinating. Or going insane.

Maybe I am.

The sound of a horse's whinny carried over the sound of the real traffic, for the normal sounds had never died away despite the change in scenery. Her eyes widened. Maybe her imaginary street wasn't quite so uninhabited after all. She pushed up the window and leaned forward, as close to the screen as she could get without actually pressing her nose against it.

"Zack, turn off the light and come here." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to pull them back. She'd spoken without thinking. Then again, if he saw it, too . . .

Zack never did anything quickly, but the tone of her voice must have gotten through to him because he doused the light, except for one computer monitor, and joined her a handful of seconds later.

"What?" He folded his long length and peered through the screen beside her.

Quinn swallowed. "I thought I heard a horse. Do you see one?"

His shoulder brushed hers as he turned and looked in one direction, then the other. "Nope. Probably just one of the mounted cops." He straightened and returned to his computer.

Quinn pressed a fist against her chest and her racing heart. Just once, she'd like not to be the only freak on the planet.

The distinctive sound of a horse's clip-clop grew louder, overlaying the true traffic sounds. And then she saw it, pulling a buggy down that empty dirt street, a dark-cloaked figure holding the reins. A moment later, incongruously, a yellow Jeep Wrangler burst onto the scene, swerving around the carriage, causing the horse to sidestep with agitation. The buggy driver shouted with anger. And then the strange sounds and sights were gone, and Quinn once more stared at the dorms and cars that were really there.

"Lily's missing."

At the sound of Zack's frantic voice through the cell phone the next morning, Quinn leaped from her lab bench, her free hand pressing against her head. "Are you sure?" God. The disappearances!

"We were going to meet out front and walk to class together like we always do. But she never showed up. And I can't find her."

"She's not picking up her phone?"

"No. She texted me to say she'd be here in five minutes, but that was fifteen minutes ago, and she's not here. She's not anywhere, Quinn. I've been walking around looking for her."

"Zack." She'd never heard him sound so frantic - she'd never heard him sound frantic at all. She scrambled to think of a logical, safe explanation for Lily's disappearance and couldn't come up with a single one that fit Lily's serious, responsible nature. "Have you called her mom?" Lily lived with her parents about six blocks away.

"I don't know her mom's number."

Crap. "Do you know either of her parents' names?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Wang."

"Zack. There have to be hundreds of Wangs in D.C."

"I know."

"Where are you?"

"Starbucks on Penn."

A couple of blocks from their apartment. "Stay there. Inside. I'm on my way."

Thirty minutes later, after handing off her work to a fellow technician, racing to her car, and flying through more nearly red lights than she cared to admit, she found Zack right where he'd said he'd be, his body rigid with tension as he paced. He looked up and saw her, the devastation in his expression lifting with relief. As if she could fix it. Oh, Zack. His T-shirt was plastered to his body, his face flushed and soaked with sweat. He loved that girl, she could see it in his eyes, even if he didn't know it, yet. If Lily was really gone, her loss was going to slay him.

And his grief was going to slay Quinn.

She took his hand, squeezing his damp fist. "Where have you looked?"

"Around." His eyes misted, his mouth tightening painfully. "She's not here, Quinn."

"We'll find her."

But he wasn't buying her optimism any more than she was. The cops hadn't found a single one of the missing people, yet. Not one.

"Do you know where she was when you last heard from her?"

"She was close. Within a block or two of our apartment."

Quinn cocked her head at him. "Doesn't she usually buy coffee on her way to class?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

He blinked. "Here."

"Have you asked if they saw her?"

His face scrunched in embarrassment. "No." He pulled out his cell phone as he walked up to the counter, stepping in front of the line and holding out his phone and, she assumed, Lily's picture, to the barista. "I'm looking for my friend. Did she get coffee here a little while ago?"

The man peered at the picture. "Yeah. Lily, right? She ordered her usual mocha latte no-whip."

Zack turned away, and Quinn fell into step beside him as they pushed through the morning-coffee crowd and left the shop. She squinted against the glare of the summer sun. "She went missing between here and the street in front of our apartment. It's just two blocks, Zack." And the chances they'd find her, after Zack had already looked, were slim to none.

Together, they walked down the busy sidewalk, dodging college kids, locals, and tourists as they searched for any sign of Lily or what might have happened to her. Quinn's chest ached, as much for Lily as it did for Zack. His anguish, thick and palpable, hung in the steamy air.