A pair of heels clicked out a staccato rhythm against hardwood floors as a figure paced the length of the dimly lit study. Her hands instinctively found the silk scarf knotted at the base of her throat, worrying the delicate material between her fingers.
Months had passed since Blake's abduction, and a pall of dread hung over the house like a suffocating shroud.
"Where could he be?" The gravelly voice of Reggie, Rose's most trusted aide, broke the heavy silence.
He stood beside the towering mahogany bookshelves, his broad shoulders slumped in defeated weariness. Dark circles lingered beneath his eyes, evidence of the sleepless nights that had plagued him since Blake's disappearance. Even for a vampire like himself that required minimal sleep, rest was an inescapable penalty. And his body was eventually going to have its revenge.
"We have to find him." Gunther pounded his meaty fist against the oakwood desk, making the antique inkwell rattle. "Blake is out there somewhere,"
