Allyn and Ransom – 21

 

By evening, Allyn was truly worried. He'd called Liam almost every half hour, getting no answer.

 

Where the hell are you? I know you well enough to know you're not still shacking up with someone, cute or not. It's not your style.

 

Finally, Allyn took the bit in his teeth and called Ransom at the station house. It took a few minutes to get transferred to him and when he was, Ransom's first words were, "You're backing out of dinner tomorrow."

 

"No," Allyn replied. "This has nothing to do with dinner. Okay, maybe I'm being paranoid, but a friend of mine who went to the film festival party seems to be missing. Well, I don't know that he is but he hasn't answered his phone all day, which isn't like him."

 

"Does this friend have a name?"

 

"Yeah. Liam Kavanagh, with a K."

 

"Address?"

 

Allyn rattled it off.

 

There was a pause, during which Allyn figured Ransom was writing down the information. Then Ransom asked, a bit waspishly, "Is he the one you told me about? The one you're sleeping with?"

 

Gritting his teeth, Allyn replied, "Yes. I told you, though it's only a casual thing. Remember?"

 

"Yeah." There was a tapping sound before Ransom said, "Describe him."

 

"Five eleven, dark blond hair, blue eyes, slim, but in good shape. Hell, I've got a photo of him if you want."

 

"I want. Email it to me—the sooner the better."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Sorry," Ransom said. "I'm beat and grumpy."

 

"I can tell. Do you want to cancel for tomorrow so you can get some rest?"

 

"Not at all. Even if I decide to work—to follow up on your Mr. Kavanagh—I still want to have dinner with you."

 

"Do you… Could he be a victim of the kidnapper?"

 

"Anything is possible, I'm afraid. The situation is the same. Thornton and Daniels, the two officers covering the film festival party, didn't see anything that triggered their suspicions. But if Kavanagh—"

 

"Liam."

 

"Okay, if Liam was taken after he left, say on the way to his car… What does he drive?"

 

"A 2014 Aston Martin Vantage S. Dark green."

 

"I'll have someone check the lots in the vicinity of the Board of Trade building where they held the party. See if his car is anywhere in the area. That will tell us if he left on his own—in which case he's probably fine and just too busy to answer his phone—or if he left with someone. Even then…"

 

"I know. It could have been by his own volition. But…" Allyn was tempted to tell him Liam always answered his calls, but knew that wouldn't be true if Liam had gone home with someone who piqued his interest. After all, in spite of our relationship, he's no saint.

 

"Don't worry," Ransom said quietly. "We'll find your friend."

 

"I'm sure you said the same thing to people who were worried about the other missing people."

 

"True. Do you know how to get hold of Liam's family?"

 

"There's only his father, and they're estranged, so no."

 

"Is there anything else you can tell me about him?"

 

Allyn thought for a moment. "He does have a habit of dressing a bit over-the-top, even when he's in formal wear. So knowing him, his tux might have been flashy, or he'd have accented it with something off the wall."

 

"Says the man who was wearing a blue tux to the ballet gala," Ransom replied with a low chuckle.

 

"Believe me, next to Liam, that was nothing." Allyn sighed. "Just…find him if you can."

 

"We're going to try to. Get the picture you have and send it to me, ASAP. I'll show it to my team. Hopefully, when Thornton and Daniels see it, they'll remember him and maybe recall him leaving, and when."

 

"Among hundreds of other people?" Allyn asked doubtfully.

 

"We can only hope."

 

"Yeah. Okay, I'll let you go and shoot you the photo."

 

"All right. I'll call if we find out anything—and either way, I'll see you tomorrow night."

 

'A Prince in Hiding' is out today!

 A Prince in Hiding

 

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/a-prince-in-hiding-p-5514.html

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FP1SCVB7?ref

 

GENRE: Gay Fantasy Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 48,095 words
RATING:

When his father the king dies, Prince Rouland's uncle Sewal accuses him of using magic to murder him. He has the palace wizard bind Rouland's magic then orders his execution, planning on taking over the throne as the heir apparent. However, Rouland manages to flee the city, only to be arrested for stealing bread from a baker's shop. With no magic, he must rely on his thieving skills and the aid of his familiar, Ebony, to escape the jail.

On the run, he finds a safe haven at Bernard's farm. He leaves when Bernard learns who he truly is, but only after Bernard suggests he find a powerful wizard to break the binding of his magic.

Soon after, Rouland meets Jarvis, a farmer's son who asks if he may join him in his travels. Rouland agrees and the pair begins to bond. He lets Jarvis know about his thieving skills, but not the truth of who he is -- until forced to in order to explain why he's searching for a wizard. Jarvis accepts it with no reservations as by then they have become more than merely friends.

The question becomes, can Rouland find a wizard willing to help him? If so, will Rouland be able to stop his uncle Sewal's coronation as the new king and take his rightful place as heir to the throne?

EXCERPT:

Footsteps moved to the barn door, it opened and closed, and then there was silence. Rouland gave it a few moments then started to stand, freezing when he heard the ladder creak. ::Why didn't you warn me, Ebon?:: he asked tightly.

::Because I'm up here, too, in the corner.::

::Yeah, well ...::

"I know someone's up here," the (farmer's) son said from the top of the ladder. "You might as well show yourself."

Biting his lip, Rouland complied. "I'm harmless," he said, holding his arms away from his sides.

The son, who was around Rouland's twenty-and-four years he thought, nodded. "As long as you don't draw your dagger I'll believe you."

Keeping his hand away from it, Rouland studied him. He had shaggy blond hair, most of it tied back although a few strands framed his face. A decent face, with bright hazel eyes and a straight nose, had been tanned by the sun -- or so he supposed.

"Do you have a name?" the son asked.

"Do you?" Rouland retorted.

The son smiled. "I'm known as Jarvis, son of Perrin."

Rouland gave a brief bow. "I am Rond, son of; well it matters not as my father is dead."

"And who is that?" Jarvis asked, gesturing to Ebony who had put in an appearance next to Rouland.

"She's Ebony, my constant companion on my ... journey."

Rouland stepped back to allow Jarvis to finish climbing the ladder and sit on the edge of the loft with his legs dangling.

"Join me? I don't bite, I promise," Jarvis said, patting the space beside him.

"You're being quite friendly for finding a stranger in your barn," Rouland commented as he settled a few feet away from him.

Jarvis gave a small shrug. "It's not often I meet someone new. I'd like to learn more about you before deciding if my friendship, as you put it, is warranted. If not, I'll send you packing."

"Without telling your father I was here?"

Jarvis gave him a long look. "You seem harmless enough and you're pleasing to the eye which is rare in these parts."

Rouland wondered if he meant more by that than a mere compliment, but wasn't about to ask. "What would you like to know?"

"Oh, many things but mostly to begin with, why are you hiding in our barn?"

"It was raining, we saw the barn and took a chance we could use it for shelter until the storm passed."

"Are you a tramp or some such?"

Rouland spread his hands. "Not a tramp but for the moment homeless."

"Why?" Jarvis asked, appearing quite interested in what Rouland might reply.

"As I said, my father is dead. My mother as well. She died of the grippe a year or so ago. I decided it was time for me to make my way in the world as best I could."

Rouland sighed. "Not that I've been too successful."

"I wish ..." Jarvis started to say, and then stopped.

"You wish what?"

"I suppose that I had your gumption. I would dearly love to take off and leave the farm and all the work my father expects me to do behind. He knows I hate this life but he's unwilling to give me my freedom."

"Perhaps because he needs you to keep it running?"

Jarvis shook his head. "I have two brothers, both older than me, and we all work the land with him."

"When I first arrived there was a woman and a child. Are they family, too?"

"My sister. She was visiting Mother. She and her husband live on the next farm over from ours. My brothers would be here, but father sent them off to help an elderly neighbor with their harvest, leaving me to do the work of three."

"I'm certain the neighbor appreciates their help."

Jarvis snorted. "More that father appreciates the coin they will be paid for their work, which they will turn over to him."

"Hardly fair," Rouland commented.

"Our life isn't fair," Jarvis spat out. "If I had it in me, I'd leave this instant."

"With only the clothes on your back?" Rouland asked with a quick grin.

"Well ... I do have more, and a knapsack like yours. If I had what it took, I'd pack my clothes and ..."

Jarvis leaned back on his hands, looking at Rouland in question, and then asked, "I don't suppose you'd like a traveling companion. One who can answer back when you talk to them?"

::Little does he know,:: Ebony said, laughter in her words.

"You might be asking for trouble. We both might if your father sends your brothers out looking for you," Rouland pointed out.

"What if ..." Jarvis gnawed his lip. "If I were to pack a few things this evening while you waited here. I could sneak out after everyone's abed and we would have the whole night to get as far from here as possible." He gazed hopefully at Rouland.

"You're serious? I mean really, truly serious? It would be a big step which you might regret too soon."

"I have prayed every day for a chance to escape my life, even if I didn't have the backbone to do anything about it because it was only me. If I had you by my side, then yes, I would gladly leave and damn the consequences. Well, as long as they didn't find me."

::What to you think, Ebon? Is it worth the risk?::

::We have nothing to lose, other than adding one more mouth to feed, and he would be a good cover for us. Your uncle is looking for you, not a pair of young men who would, to all appearances, be traveling companions of a like mind.::

::You think he…?::

Ebony chortled in his head. ::I think he has as much in common with you on that level as Giles did.::

::Oh. Oooh.::

::Close your mouth before you drool.::

::Ebony!::

"You're awfully quiet," Jarvis said morosely. "Does that mean you're trying to figure out how to tell me politely you're not interested in having me join you on your journey?"

 

Allyn and Ransom – 20

 

Grigore nodded in appreciation. At least this one was using his brain. He had watched from a distance as his prey had covered his body with dirt. Not that it made any difference in the grand scheme of things. Grigore still knew exactly where the young man was, even though he was a good quarter of a mile away. The lad was moving slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. If Grigore had been human, he might have lost him—but he wasn't. He could hear every footstep, every breath, his prey made, and smell his blood.

 

An hour passed. The bright moon was beginning to lower, casting long shadows between the trees. Moving closer but staying hidden, Grigore saw the young man pause for a moment, looking around and up. Intentionally, Grigore stepped on a fallen branch. It snapped under his foot. The lad spun around, panic written on his face and in the way he held his body. Instead of running, however, as Grigore had expected, his prey made a leap for a low tree branch, pulling himself up, then climbing higher.

 

Clever. You are definitely better than the others.

 

Grigore waited. His prey waited. After a time, very carefully, the young man climbed down to the ground. Inch by inch, he crept deeper into the trees, and closer to the wall surrounding the estate.

 

Remaining where he was, Grigore listened. A few minutes later he heard a low moan and the whispered words, "No. No. How…?" He knew his prey was at the wall. He heard him moving along it, undoubtedly looking for a tree—other than the multitude of pines by the wall—he could shimmy up to get to the top. The lad's breath was coming in terrified pants now. Grigore could read his dread—smell it emanating from his pores.

 

Silently Grigore followed, moving closer with each step. It was dark beside the wall. The young man was creeping along, dragging his hand across the bricks, obviously praying he'd find a door, a gate—some way to escape.

 

"You have played the game well," Grigore pronounced, finally stepping into view.

 

His prey gasped, pressing against the wall, his hands fisted in front of him.

 

"Because you have exceeded my expectations, I shall make your death swift and painless." Then Grigore attacked. The lad tried to run, to fight, to no avail. Grigore was on him seconds later, tearing open his throat, drinking deeply until his prey was dead. Then he picked up the lifeless body. Throwing it over his shoulder, he carried it to the burying ground.

Allyn and Ransom – 19

 

 

Liam was shivering. For a moment he couldn't figure out why, until he realized he was naked. Naked and in a room he didn't recognize.

 

Then it all came back to him.

 

He had left the gala feeling a bit forlorn. Even though he had enjoyed himself, he'd missed being able to share it with Allyn. It had been well after midnight and he'd savored the cool air—relishing it, in fact, as the building had been almost too warm, thanks to all the people there.

 

"Leaving already?" someone had said from behind him.

 

He'd turned to see a tall, dark-haired man standing there. "I figured I'd beat the crowds," Liam had replied.

 

"I can't say that I blame you. I feel the same way." The man had tapped his lip. "I was watching you in there. You seem to be having a great deal of fun."

 

"I'm a film addict," Liam had admitted. "And when Oliver Wilson… You know who he is?"

 

"Yes. The star of the indy film that was such a hit at Sundance."

 

"Have you seen it? Wasn't he absolutely fantastic?"

 

Liam remembered he and the man had started trading stories about the films they liked and didn't like. Somehow, in the process, Liam had ended up in the man's car. That was the last he recalled until the man had led him into this…basement? Why did he…? Liam's eyes widened in horror, his pulse pounding when he touched two fingers to his neck. He pulled them away, puzzled. He bit me! I know he did. He had fangs and he bit me. He thinks he's a vampire. He's crazy. He must have given me something… Liam tried to remember if he'd eaten or drunk anything and couldn't.

 

I have to get out of here. He looked around for his clothes. Nothing. The room was barren except for a door, a window high on one wall—pale light coming through it—and a set of shelves along another one. He staggered to his feet, waited a moment for the dizziness to pass, then went to the door. It was locked. He shook the handle, screaming for help. All he got in return were his words echoing off the walls.

 

Next he tried to reach the window. His fingers barely touched the sill and he was too weak to jump then try to pull himself up. Not that it would do any good. It's probably locked too. Still…

 

He looked at the shelves, wondering if he could move them under the window. Going over to the shelves, he began to tug at them. They moved, and when they did, he saw there was something behind them. A door. Another door. Please, God, let it be unlocked.

 

He turned the handle. The door opened.

 

"Thank you. Thank you."

 

Cautiously he peered past it. There was a long hallway, the only light coming through the window high above the floor, halfway down. At the far end, he saw another door. Heart in hand, he made his way to the three stairs leading to the door. Once again he prayed it would open, and not into the rest of the house—or wherever he was. He pushed the door open.

 

Ahead of him was a short stretch of grass. Above him, the almost full moon gave enough light for him to see the trees surrounding the lawn. For a second he wondered about the wisdom of taking off when he wasn't wearing anything, including shoes. The hell with it. I have to get away from here before that crazy bastard knows I'm missing. Taking a deep breath, he dashed madly across the lawn into the forest.

 

"Going somewhere?"

 

Liam spun around. The man, dressed all in black, was standing on a veranda several yards from where Liam had exited.

 

"I will give you a five minute head start," the man said. "If you can escape, more power to you. If not, I will feed on you, draining the last drop of blood from your carcass, then dispose of you as I have the others."

 

"You're crazy!" Liam shouted. Suddenly it hit him. He wasn't this man's only victim, from what he'd said. Liam remembered the news stories of the guy who had vanished after the masked ball. He started to shake in fear.

 

"Four minutes," the man said, stepping off the veranda to the lawn.

 

Liam turned and ran. There were large trees, smaller ones, and brush. Branches lashed him as he raced by them, but he ignored their stings on his bare flesh and the feel of oozing blood. The ground was covered with leaves and fallen branches. Liam realized almost instantly that he was making noise as he sped pell-mell through the forest, ignoring the pain when he stepped on sharp stones. He came to a stop beside a tall, thick-trunked tree, pressing against it while listening for the sound of pursuit. His feet were in agony now, but he did his best to push the pain to the back of his mind. It would only interfere with his ability to come up with a plan to get away from…from the insanity of his situation.

 

He wasn't certain if he was thankful for the moonlight filtering through the branches—since it meant he could see where he was going—or terrified because his captor could see him when he moved. With no clothes, Liam knew his pale skin probably acted as a beacon to the man pursuing him. He inched down to his knees, all the time listening for any sounds that would say the man was nearby. Then he dug through the leafy ground cover to the damp earth beneath it. Taking a handful, he rubbed it over his chest—the pain barely an issue compared to his safety. Digging again and again, he did his best to cover his whole body with the dirt. Not much camouflage, but better than nothing.

 

His pulse was racing. He forced himself to remain calm while trying to figure out which way to go. I came from that way, I think. If I keep the moon to my left, at least I won't be traveling in circles. Creeping slowly forward to the next tree, he stood, using it as cover while he surveyed his surroundings.

Allyn and Ransom – 18

 

 

Late the next morning, once he was actually awake enough to think, Allyn called Liam. Because they'd talked about it, he knew his friend had planned on going to the film festival party. Liam was a movie addict and never missed the chance to become involved with anything having to do with films—and the possible chance of meeting one the actors or actresses who had appeared in movies he'd seen.

 

It was not Allyn's thing, so he'd opted for the ballet fundraiser, laughing when Liam had pronounced ballet old folks' entertainment. Something Allyn and Ransom had decided on their own at the end of their evening at the party.  

 

Now, Allyn waited impatiently for Liam to answer his call. When it went to voicemail he frowned then left a message. "Call me as soon as you wake up, sleepyhead."

 

Half an hour later, when Liam hadn't responded to his message, Allyn called once more, only to be sent to voicemail—again—and left basically the same message.

 

"This isn't like him," Allyn muttered, hanging up.

 

"Isn't like who?" Miranda asked, wandering into the breakfast nook where Allyn was at the moment.

 

"Liam. It's almost noon and he hasn't replied to either of my voicemails."

 

"Didn't you see him last night?"

 

"No. He went to the film festival thing, while Ransom and I were at the ballet fundraiser."

 

"You and Ransom? Interesting." She smiled wickedly at him.

 

"Purely business. I was helping him out with a case he's working."

 

"The one concerning the kidnappings?"

 

"Yeah." Allyn poured a cup of coffee, then one for her when she asked.

 

"So maybe while you were playing detective, Liam decided to try a new flavor of the month, so to speak."

 

"He wouldn't," Allyn protested. Although he wasn't so certain she wasn't right. After all, he and Liam weren't exclusive, despite the fact they seemed to spend at least one night a week in bed together.

 

"Stop worrying," Miranda said, patting his arm. "He'll call, all apologetic and with some excuse, like he got royally wasted and didn't even get home until morning."

 

"Probably," Allyn agreed, hoping it was the case.

 

Allyn and Ransom – 17

 

 

Half an hour later, Ransom said with a touch of dismay, "Almost everyone here is middle-aged or older."

 

"You're just noticing?"

 

"Yeah. Not too sharp, am I? The problem is…"

 

"They're not the type of people the man we're looking for targets. Have you heard anything from you men at the other venues?"

 

"Venues?" Ransom smiled, before saying, "I have, and so far, nothing." He chuckled softly. "Did you think the calls I've been getting were from a boyfriend?"

 

"Do you have one?" Allyn asked, realizing he hoped the answer would be no.

 

"No more than you do, from what you told me. There are a couple of men I hook up with occasionally, because I don't get off on picking someone up at a bar, but that's it."

 

"I totally understand."

 

Almost as if what they were talking about triggered it, a couple Allyn knew fairly well joined them. The woman, after being introduced to Ransom, whispered to Allyn, "Trading up from Liam?"

 

"No. We're just friends who happen to be interested in ballet," Allyn murmured.

 

"He looks more like the football type."

 

Obviously overhearing them, which wasn't surprising considering what he was, Ransom said, "Are the two mutually exclusive? Ballet dancers and football players have to be in peak condition. They both wear tight pants—or I guess tight tights when it comes to ballet—which makes them easy on the eyes." He waggled his eyebrows, much to the woman's amusement. "At least with ballet, the music is a lot better, which is a plus."

 

They continued chatting for a few minutes, even as Ransom surreptitiously scanned the other partygoers, as he and Allyn had been doing all evening.

 

Finally it was one a.m. and the party began to wind down. Since midnight, Allyn and Ransom had been on high alert because, Ransom had pointed out, the three abductions had happened very late in the evening, "When people were beginning to leave."

 

"I guess we should call it a night," Ransom said when the final people left and the staff of the Mansion began cleaning up.

 

"Unless you feel like collecting dirty glasses, it might be a good idea," Allyn agreed.

 

They exited as they'd come in, through the lobby. When they were on the street, Ransom said he'd walk Allyn to his car. For a moment Allyn bristled. Doesn't he think I'll be safe on my own?

 

Ransom squeezed Allyn's shoulder. "I'm not being overprotective. I'd just like to. Despite why we're here, it's been nice, being with you. I sort of want to prolong the experience without having to watch everyone else in the process."

 

"Seriously?" Allyn was more than a little surprised by his words.

 

"Yeah, seriously. So where did you park?"

 

"Right over there, by the cemetery."

 

They walked down the block and around the corner. Allyn's car was the only one on the short street—unlike when he'd first parked, and wondered where everyone else coming to the party would find spaces.

 

"Kind of spooky," Ransom said, glancing at the tombstones behind wrought iron fence.

 

Allyn grinned. "Afraid of ghosts?"

 

"Not afraid, but I have healthy respect for the fact they might exist." He turned his attention back to Allyn. "Thanks for coming with me tonight."

 

"You're welcome. I wish we'd been successful."

 

"Me too, but that's the way it goes. None of my people have called to say they found the guy, and it's still too early for any reports of someone missing, so maybe he took the night off."

 

"Or quit altogether, which would be nice."

 

"I wish." Ransom went silent momentarily before saying, "Look, if you're not busy Monday night, I'm off and, umm… We could maybe go to dinner? Really catch up on things?"

 

Despite his astonishment, Allyn replied, "Sure, why not?" He managed a grin. "McDonald's?"

 

"Smartass. You know Brisbi's? I figure it's sort of halfway between your place and mine."

 

"I do. It has a nice view of the marina and the lake. What time?"

 

"Seven? That way we might miss the main dinner crowd."

 

"Sounds good. I'll see you then."

 

"Great." There was a long, pregnant pause, then Ransom turned and walked away.

 

Getting into his car, Allyn wondered if dinner with Ransom was a good idea. Then again, why not? The worst that happens is we'll find out we were right to have separated, way back when. The best, we become friends again, and who knows…? He immediately erased that thought. Friends, he could deal with. More was not going to happen and he knew it. Still, he wasn't certain he liked the idea. He is one sexy man—and a good one too. I've always known that. He pulled out of the parking space and soon was heading back home, still pondering the idea. Perhaps, just perhaps, they could return to the relationship they'd had before things went south, and—given the chance—he might want it to happen.

Allyn and Ransom – 16

 

 

Allyn drew in a startled breath when he saw Ransom enter the lobby of Mystère Mansion. Ransom had always been a man who dressed casually when Allyn had known him all those many years ago. Tonight, in a tux, with his hair styled instead of looking as if he'd just run his hand through it, he was…incredibly handsome and sexy. Stop there, Allyn immediately cautioned himself. This is business. We're here to stop a kidnapping and catch the person doing them.

 

"You're quite impressive," Ransom said, once he joined Allyn. "But then, you always did manage pull off the playboy look very well."

 

"Thanks, I think," Allyn replied. "You look, to coin a phrase, 'to the manor born' as well."

 

Ransom shook his head. "That'll be the day."

 

Even as they were talking, Ransom was scanning the influx of people arriving for the fundraiser. So Allyn did the same, while suggesting they go into the Grand Parlor. "We can find a good vantage point to watch everyone."

 

The parlor was already beginning to fill, even though it was early. Since it was a warm evening, Allyn wasn't surprised to see the doors to the courtyard were open. People were already mingling outside, as well as in the two large interior rooms given over to the party.

 

"This is not going to be easy," Ransom muttered.

 

Allyn laughed. "You expected it would be? This is one of the premier events of the season."

 

"There's going to be dancing?" Ransom asked, glancing at the bandstand set up at one end of the Parlor.

 

"Yep. The theme for the evening is 'Midnight Tango', although I suspect they won't stop anyone from doing other types of dancing." Allyn looked mischievously at Ransom. "You do tango, don't you?"

 

"Yeah, right. I think, if pushed, I can still do the box step. That's the limit of my dance skills."

 

"You don't go to clubs?"

 

"Rarely. They're not my thing."

 

Allyn nodded. Now that he thought about it, they hadn't been. Of course fifty years ago, two men going to a club together, other than as pals out for a night of drinking, had been unheard of. When he and Ransom had done that, as part of finding the men targeting shifters, they had been very circumspect, even though they were in the beginning stages of their personal relationship. At least that's no longer necessary. I should drag him to one of the clubs on Bourbon, just for the hell of it. Allyn knew it would never happen. They weren't even friends now—not really. They were just two men on a mission to save another person from vanishing.

 

"Would you gentlemen care for a drink," a young man carrying a tray of champagne asked, bringing Allyn back to the present.

 

Allyn picked up a glass, while Ransom declined, telling Allyn when he looked questioningly at him, "I have to keep a clear head." Allyn almost put the glass back on the tray, then decided if he wasn't carrying one, people who knew him would wonder and comment.

 

Slowly the rooms and the courtyard began to fill with guests. The band appeared and began playing, after the leader invited everyone to "Dance to your heart's content".

 

"How many of these people do you know?" Ransom asked, after being introduced to yet another couple.

 

"Most of them?" Allyn replied with a grin. "After all, I do, as you so unsubtly put it the other day, spend my time living the life of the idle rich."

 

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I didn't know…" Ransom spread his hands.

 

"No problem, since it's what I do when I'm not," he chuckled, "off saving the world."

 

Ransom laughed. "Are you trying to emulate Tony Stark or Bruce Wayne?"

 

With a sudden insight, Allyn realized, No, just you. Not that he would ever say it to Ransom. In spite of everything that had happened between them, he had always admired Ransom's dedication to protecting those who needed it most.

 

"Not hardly," Allyn replied to Ransom's question, just as another couple came over to greet him.

Allyn and Ransom – 15

 

"Did I lose you?" Allyn asked.

 

"What? No. I was just thinking, umm, where we should meet."

 

"At the Mansion?" Ransom could hear the smile in Allyn's voice.

 

"Yeah, wiseass. But where there?"

 

"The lobby."

 

"All right. Can you be there in two hours?"

 

"That's a bit early. Make it at eight."

 

Ransom chuckled. "So that we're fashionably late? Supposedly, it starts at seven."

 

"Meaning the people who aren't anybody will show up then. The rich and famous will wait until there's enough guests to witness their grand entrance."

 

"Jesus," Ransom muttered, although he knew Allyn was right.

 

"Way of the world, Ran. Or at least the world I inhabit."

 

"True, but since we're looking for the abductor, it would make more sense to be there from the get-go."

 

"You have a point. All right, I'll be there at seven, in all my glory."

 

"Do not tell me you're wearing something that will make me feel like a peasant next to you."

 

"Umm. Well. Just your classic midnight blue Brioni with black satin lapels."

 

"Like that tells me anything. I'm wearing a classic After Six, I think."

 

"You think?"

 

"I bought it two years ago for a wedding so, yeah, it was an After Six."

 

"There's nothing wrong with that."

 

Ransom chuckled. "At least it's not from the eighties. All right, we both should get moving if we're going to be there on time."

 

"Yep. See you in a couple of hours."

* * * *

"Which extravaganza will I honor with my presence?" Grigore asked his reflection while he straightened his bow tie.

 

He had several choices. The only question being, which one was most likely to net him a young, healthy man or woman for the hunt. He instantly eliminated the ballet fundraiser. Ballet equates to older people. At least from what I remember, having gone to a few many years ago.

 

The animal shelter charity event might pull in a mix of ages, but there was also the possibility there would actually be dogs and cats there—to remind the partygoers why they should be donating to the cause. Some animals were sensitive to supernatural beings. The last thing I need is a dog howling or a cat screeching, if I get too close to their cage.

 

That left the film festival party. Movies these days cater to youth. Noise and action for the young men, who get off on that sort of thing, or mawkish romances. What do they call them? Chick flicks? Yes, there should be a plethora of the young and agile attending. Surely I'll find the perfect prey there.

 

With that decided, Grigore checked one more time to make certain he was sartorially acceptable for mingling with the rich of the city—not that he had any real doubts—and then left. He had one stop to make before the party. He needed to find an acceptable vehicle, since, as always, using his own for the actual abduction was not an option.

Allyn and Ransom – 14

 

 

"We have three parties we need to cover," Ransom said, looking at the officers assembled in the conference room the task force was using at the police station.

 

"Three parties and five of us. This ought to be fun," Thornton said.

 

"Hey, not my fault we're all the department can spare, even with Mr. Patterson still raising hell. The captain thinks it's a long shot our guy will show after all the publicity about Ellis Patterson's being missing."

 

Hanna Lane shook her head. "If anything, it might make the guy try, so he can thumb his nose at us."

 

Ransom nodded. "I agree, but the captain doesn't see it that way."

 

"If we had a clue what the man looked like," one of the other officers said. "Tall with dark hair isn't much of a descriptor."

 

"No shit," Thornton muttered.

 

"All we can do is the best we can," Ransom said. "You and Daniels take the film festival party, Thornton. Lane, you and Johnson get the animal shelter charity bash, and I'll take the ballet fundraiser."

 

"On it," Daniels said. "Do you even own a tux, Ransom?" he asked with a smirk.

 

"Yep, believe it or not. Okay, let's end this. We have three hours to get ready." Ransom smiled wickedly. "Have fun and stay sober."

 

As soon as everyone was gone, Ransom went back to his office. He had a call to make. One he wasn't certain was a good idea but… The only number he had was the one to Allyn's home phone. When he called, someone answered, saying, "Warwick residence."

 

"Is Mr. Warwick available?"

 

"Let me check. Who shall I say is calling?"

 

Ransom was tempted to say "whom", but resisted. "Detective Carlyle."

 

"If you'll hold, please."

 

Ransom did, wondering if Allyn would tell whoever had answered that they should say he wasn't at home. He was a bit surprised when, a moment later, Allyn said cautiously, "Why are you calling?"

 

"Because I need your help, if you're willing, and if you're free tonight."

 

"Actually, I'm not. I'm attending an event at Mystère Mansion."

 

Ransom sucked in a breath. "The ballet fundraiser?"

 

"Yes. How do you know about…?" Then the penny obviously dropped. "You think the guy who abducted Ellis and the others might show up there?"

 

"There, or at one of the other big shindigs going on this weekend. I've got people at the other ones, but that leaves me to hit up the Mansion on my own."

 

"And you're wondering if I'd be willing to help you out."

 

"Yeah. I know you're good at it. Or you were back when we worked together last time."

 

There was a long pause. "Do you have a tux? One that isn't twenty years old?"

 

"Why does everyone think I'm too plebeian to own one?"

 

Allyn laughed. "Because you're a cop?"

 

"Thanks a lot. And it was one of my guys who asked the same question."

 

"Maybe it's your rough-and-tumble look. No one can picture you dressed to the nines."

 

"You'll see. I'll pass as one of the upper crust. That is, if you're willing to help. If nothing else, you can tell me who couldn't be our man, since you probably know a lot of the people who will be there."

 

"I suppose I do by this point. God only knows, I go to enough of these things."

 

"Why? If you don't like them, and it sounds as if you don't."

 

Allyn shrugged. "Gives me something to do. But more importantly, it reinforces I'm truly so benign and idle that when I vanish for a while, no one really misses me."

 

"No one? I don't believe that. Surely Miranda's not the only person in your life."

 

"True. There's the people who work for us. But they're used to my gadding about. Other than that, yeah, there is a man I'm with—sort of on-again, off-again. If we're in the same place at the same time, we usually end up going home together."

 

Ransom had the urge to strangle this other man, which shocked him. He'd long ago tamped down the feelings he'd had for Allyn. They were too different. The grasshopper and the ant, as he thought of if. Or at least he had until Miranda's revelation about Allyn. Was I wrong to give up on him? I had no reason—before I walked away—to think he was anything more than what he seemed to have become. A spoiled boy who found the life of a dilettante too much to his liking to give it up.