“What do you say to going back to St. Augustine tonight?”
“Fine by me, but don’t you want to be around in case Laurel and Marco cause problems?”
“If they do, the damage will be done before I can get there. Wherever there may be. With Jackie showing the condo this week, it’d be easier to be gone.”
“Good point.” Yippee. Fresh clothing and my own shampoo.
“If you want, I can stay at Neil’s place. I’ve got the key, and he won’t mind.”
“He might not, but I would. Bring your laptop, and set up Operation Vlad at my place.”
“Done.”
“Purely out of curiosity, why did you decide to buy a condo instead of a house?”
“You mean somewhere more remote in case vamps—or back then, weres—came after me?”
I nodded.
“I thought about it, but I didn’t want to fool with maintaining a house and yard.” He looked over and grinned. “Plus, I knew the resale value on the condo would be damn good.”
“Now you’re ready to take on the upkeep of a house?”
He reached over the console to take my hand. “I’m ready.”
By five that afternoon, we had accessorized Saber’s place to HGTV perfection. Aside from adding colorful vases, throw pillows, and art, we’d assembled a bistro set. We also packed Saber’s sensitive files and books with titles like The Vampire Slayer Handbook. Okay, so that wasn’t a real title, but those books came off the shelf, and the Starbloods came out of the fridge. Wouldn’t do for a potential buyer to see that.
Once we’d finished staging, we spit-shined the condo to a show-ready gloss. Saber threw a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries together, and we headed out.
Saber had just shut the tail door on the SUV when I heard a plaintive mewling echo in the concrete parking garage.
“You hear that?” I asked Saber.
“Yes, but it doesn’t sound like Pandora, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“But what if it is? Help me look, would you? She’s been gone over twenty-four hours now. She might be hurt.”
“Cesca, I’m telling you, Pandora can take care of herself. If there’s another cat down here, it probably belongs to one of the owners.”
“I know, and I won’t take it home. Promise. I just need to be sure.”
I heard him mutter, “Famous last words,” before I began calling. Two Here, kitty kitties later, a little ball of pure white fur edged from behind the rear tire of a Jaguar and tottered toward me.
“Awww, hello, little one.”
I ignored Saber’s “Here we go,” and scooped up the kitten. She fit in one hand, and when huge crystal blue eyes blinked at me, my heart turned over.
“Oh, Saber, she’s so tiny and skinny.” I gently petted the top of her head.
“We need to leave her here so the owner can find her.”
“But what if the owner doesn’t find her in time? Or is out of town? Or what if she’s a stray?”
“What if Pandora thinks she’s dinner?”
“Oh. Hadn’t thought of that. You’re right.”
I carried the kitten, now purring in my cupped hands, to the alcove by the staircase, rubbed my cheek against her downy fur, and set her down on the cement.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s roll.”
Saber did. He rolled those sexy cobalt eyes at me, and then stomped toward a door marked Storage. He fumbled with a key and disappeared inside. A couple of thuds later, he came out with a medium-sized cardboard box, and relocked the door.
“Here.” He thrust the box at me, opened the rear door of the SUV, and handed me a towel. “Get her settled while I leave a note for the office.”
I snagged the back strap of his sling. “Saber, if you’re allergic, or you really don’t want me to take her, I won’t.”
He gave me a rueful grin. “You think I can leave her now that I found her?”
In a flash of warmth, I knew he wasn’t talking about just the kitten.
“Uh, no?”
“Uh, no is right.” He pulled me in for a quick kiss. “Go take care of Snowball, so we can hit the road.”
Snowball?
I didn’t say it. I never brought it up, not in the hour it took to get back to St. Augustine. Not when we stopped to get Saber a fastfood burger. Not even when Saber stopped at Wal-Mart to buy kitten food, a litter box, and toys. Nope, I never one single time mentioned that he had named the kitten before we ever had her in the car.
Must’ve been our night for felines, because Pandora, in her house cat form, perched on the tiki bar on my patio.
“Pandora, geez, where have you been? I’ve been worried.” Saber stood next to me, and Pandora stretched to look into the box at Snowball.
“She’s not a snack,” Saber said, shifting the box away.
Pandora huffed, than turned her amber eyes to me.
Your home is secure.
“Thanks, but what about picking up the vampire trail?”
They flew west and south. I lost the scent in a few hours.
Saber cocked a brow.