Page 64 of Viktor

Sorry no. I’m on a tight deadline.

Drinks?

Sorry. Maybe another time. She lied.

I’ll text location and time tomorrow. Gotta run.

Thanks, Adam!

Talk soon.

In the seconds Waverly thought to text Viktor, she realized she didn’t have his phone number. The past few days had been a whirlwind. The intense attraction blurred her judgement. Reason cautioned her to stay away from the ancient vampire, but the flames of attraction ignited hotter each time she saw him.

Waverly tossed her phone on the bed, curled into a ball on her side, brushing her fingers to her neck. She closed her eyes, imagining his touch, the slice of his fangs on her flesh. Her core tightened, aroused at the thought of his cock filling her while he took her blood.

A loud knock to the door broke her fantasy. Her eyes flew open at the sound of his voice. Viktor.

“Waverly.”

“Hey.” She sat up as she heard him call to her a second time. “Come in.”

“Got some news,” he told her as he leaned an arm on the doorjamb.

Waverly’s pulse raced at the sight of the debonair vampire. Dressed in a light blue dress suit and white shirt, he looked sexier than ever, and she struggled not to stare at him.

“I have some news too,” she managed.

“Thorn has agreed to meet with us. He’s having a party later tonight.”

“What?”

“You know. A party. A fun get-together where people have cocktails, laugh and engage in casual conversation with strangers.”

“I know what a party is,” she laughed.

“I know it’s a bit unusual, but paranormals do enjoy their parties. It’s Friday.”

“Friday,” she repeated, attempting to massage the stress from her temples. “I’m losing track of the days.”

“Ah, I know the feeling.”

“I bet you do.”

Viktor crossed the room and sat on the bed. “What’s your news?”

“The fleam. I have a…” Old lover. Friend. “Colleague. He believes he has the matching handle. It has the same initials. At least that’s what it says in the records.”

“Sounds promising.”

“Yes, well. I’m sure there were other people in this world with the same initials.”

“It’s odd the handle would be held by a museum without its fleam,” he noted.

“The chain of custody will be at the storage facility. We can check it out and see where it came from. Hopefully anyway. It’s likely it’s dated too. Most items are inspected and catalogued. The owner is designated if there was one.”

“Rafe is doing research on the blade to see if there are any notable fleams that may have already been flagged. Humans aren’t the only ones who keep records.” He patted her thigh. “Hopefully we’ll have more info before we get to New York.”

Waverly looked to his hand, which burned arousal through her body. A mere touch made her lose her train of thought. No, no, no, she told herself