Read The Lost Years for Free Online

vampires would have wanted Krell dead?” Craven asked.
    “I've no idea.” Layla shrugged. “I have as little as possible to do with humans or vampires.”
    “You must have heard talk? Rumours?”
    “Nothing. Sorry.”
    “I'd like to meet with the vampires.”
    “You can't.”
    “Milton said I can go where I want, and speak with anyone I please.”
    “He didn't mean—”
    “ Anyone I please.”
    Layla's smile had now evaporated. “I'll have to see what can be arranged.”
    “Do that. Who's their leader?”
    “Lassiter is the head of the local cove. I doubt he'll see you.”
    “Contact him.”
    “Okay, but it may take some time. I'll see if I can set something up for the morning.”
    “If you have any problems, let me know. In the meantime, I'll need somewhere to stay tonight.”
    “You can stay with me.” Her smile had returned.
    “A hotel will be fine.”
    “No hotel is going to give you a room.”
    “Why not?”
    “Having an Alpha from another pack in one of their rooms wouldn't be good for business. There's plenty of room at my place, and I'll have you close at hand if I run into any problems with Lassiter.”
    Reluctantly, Craven agreed.
     
    *********
     
    “Your meeting is set for ten AM tomorrow morning,” Layla said.
    She'd spent the last thirty minutes making calls to vampire HQ. Craven had just finished his call to his Beta—bringing him up to speed with progress or the lack of it.
     
    “Thanks, Layla. That's great,” Craven said, as he glanced around. “Nice place. Have you lived here long?”
    “Actually, I only moved in this morning.”
    Layla lived in a penthouse. It must have cost a fortune to rent. Milton had described her as his assistant—the job must pay well, Craven reflected.
    “I'm done for,” Craven said. “Is it okay if I take a shower before I turn in?”
    “Sure. Help yourself.”
    “Goodnight then.”
    He wasn't really tired, but he couldn't bear the thought of making small talk with Layla for the rest of the evening. The day had been a washout, and he wasn't optimistic about his meeting with Lassiter. Craven wouldn't trust Milton as far as he could throw him, but Craven had been given carte-blanch to search the territory, and to speak with anyone he chose. He couldn't really have asked for more.
    Craven took a shower in the en-suite bathroom.
    “Where are you, Louise?” he said, as he tilted his head up so the water streamed down over his face. He cursed himself again for having left her alone in his apartment. If anything happened to her, he'd never forgive himself.
    Craven turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.
     
    “Hi,” Layla said. A huge smile lit her face as her gaze slid down his body.
    She was wearing a white towel tied above her breasts.
    “What do you think you're doing?” he said.
    “I thought it might be nice to share a shower with you.” As she took two steps forward, she allowed the towel to fall to the floor.
    She was petite with curves in all of the right places.
    “No.” Craven averted his gaze.
    “It will do you good.” She put her palms on his chest. “I can help you get rid of all that stress.” One of her hands began to slide slowly downwards.
    “Stop!” Craven grabbed her wrist.
    “What's wrong? Don't you think I'm pretty?”
    “This isn't why I came here.”
    “Who's to know? I won't tell.” She tried to free her hand, but his grip was too strong. Instead, she stood on tip-toe, and pressed her lips to his.
    “No.” Releasing her hand, he took her by the shoulders, and forced her back. “I'm here to look for my fated mate, not for a cheap easy shag.”
    Craven grabbed a towel and pushed passed her.
    “Your loss!” she called after him.
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
     
    The next morning, Layla had turned on the ice-works. She spoke to Craven only when it was absolutely necessary. That suited him.
    “I'll come in with you,” she said when they arrived at Lassiter's offices.
    “No. I want to see