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crawled under the covers, thinking of those few panicked moments in the kitchen. She drew a deep breath through her nose, recalling Lucern Argeneau standing before her, blood streaming down his head and face. Dear God, she’d never actually seen a head injury before. She’d heard they could be bloody, of course, and that they often looked worse than they truly were, but there had been so much blood.
    She shuddered and swallowed a knot of anxiety. Kate hardly knew the man, and he’d been nothing but rude to her since her arrival, but despite the fact that it would serve him right after his behavior, she really didn’t want to see him dead. How was she going to impress her boss that way? She could see it now. “No, Allison, I wasn’t able to convince him to do the newspaper interviews. No, nor the television shows. Er…no, he won’t be doing signings either. Actually, I might have been able to convince him, except I killed him instead. It was an accident, Allison. I know he is our latest cash cow, and I truly didn’t mean to kill him despite the fact that he’s a rude, pigheaded…No, really, it was an accident! Yes, I do realize I’m fired. No, I don’t blame you at all for not giving me a reference. Yes, ifyou’ll excuse me I’ll just go apply at McDonald’s now that my publishing career is ruined.”
    Sighing, she shook her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. Thank goodness Argeneau seemed healthy—except for the pallor. She sat up in bed, concern eating at her again. He really had been awfully pale.
    â€œAnd why not?” she asked herself. It looked as if he’d lost a quart of blood. Or at least a pint. Maybe she should check on him now. Kate considered the matter briefly, partly wanting to check on him, partly reluctant to have him bark at her for interrupting him at whatever he was doing. He was surely going to bark enough when she checked on him every hour through the night. But he had been terribly pale after hitting his head.
    On the other hand, she had noticed his pallor on the porch before he’d ever hit his head. Or had that been the lighting? It had been nighttime, and the light on the porch had been one of those neon jobbies. That might have simply made him appear pale.
    She mulled over the matter briefly, started to slip her feet off the bed to go check on him before she went to sleep, but then she paused at the sound of a closing door. Stiffening, Kate listened to the soft pad of feet down the hall, then forced herself to relax and lie back down. The footsteps had been soft, but otherwise normal. Lucern didn’t sound to be staggering or unduly slow. He was fine. She would stick to her plan to check him in an hour.
    Relaxing, she lay back and closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight and knew it. In truth, she’d really rather be in a hotel somewhere sleeping soundly. And she would be—head wound or no head wound—if she weren’t so afraid that once he got her out of the house, Lucern Argeneau wasn’t likely to let her back in. Kate couldn’t risk that; she just had to convince him to do one of the publicity appearances. Any one of them would do. She very much feared that keeping her new position as editor depended on it.
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    â€œYou’re kidding? She really thought all that blood was from a little bump on the head?” Etienne gave a disbelieving laugh.
    â€œWell, she would hardly imagine it came from a bag of blood in his fridge,” Bastien pointed out, but he was chuckling too.
    Lucern ignored his brothers’ amusement and sank his teeth into the second bag of blood Rachel brought him. He’d already ingested the first. He had insisted on doing so before explaining why he’d shown up at Etienne’s home pleading to be fed. The first bag had allowed him to get over his surprise that Bastien was there. It had also given his brothers time to explain