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The Daughters of Eve series, Book 1 Requiem for Cain

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The tap, tap, tap, of the red Louboutin stilettos echoed like jacketed hollow point rounds being fired from a suppressed SIG Sauer P365, as she walked confidently across the polished, dove grey, Italian marble floors of her opulent office space to stare out the 25th floor window.  It was a sound the man just entering the room, one that owned such a weapon, was well familiar with. 

The heels were an exact color match to the well fitted, powerful, yet feminine, fitted tank dress Eve wore flattering her flawless figure. Her black silken hair was swept up in a beautiful chignon held by a diamond tipped pin.  The perfectly French manicured index finger of her right hand tapped in a contemplative rhythm on the nearly empty wine glass she held.

There was nothing to see out the window, except the night sky, the blinking lights of the city and those of airplanes taking off and landing at LAX.  But her gaze rested with unfocused eyes on life bustling below.

“We have found her ma’am,” Blaise Trenton said from behind her. His deep, silken tone drew Eve from her moment of quiet consideration and caused her to resurface into the sea of tension that had been surrounding her for months.

Eve turned from the window toward the tall, handsome, yet formidable man standing in the center of the office with a weak smile and a resigned look and replied softly, “that’s excellent work.  Thank you for letting me know.”   

Surprised at the lack of any change in her demeanor with such good news, Blaise assessed the woman before him more closely and noticed a palpable, ominous, unnamable tension rolling off her in waves akin to an angry ocean. 

The power of it caused his otherwise indominable countenance to waiver slightly.  Clearing his throat, he asked, “what are your wishes?” 

After another moment of silence and another 'not quite' smile, Eve replied, “I want her watched, but I think we should let her have at least a few more days of freedom before we tell her.  We won’t be the only ones that have been looking for her.”

“As you wish.  I will put a detail on her until you give me the go ahead to bring her to you,” Blaise assured her with a nearly indiscernible bow of his head as he backed away from her toward the office door. 

“Oh, and Blaise,” Eve said as she returned to gaze out the window, halting his egress.  “See that she has an enjoyable time until we take her.”

Another brief nod, acknowledging Eve’s meaning, as she made eye contact with his reflection in the window before her gaze once again became vacant, was followed by a soft click a moment later as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

There was a motive for every decision Eve made and Blaise knew it.  A smile curled onto his sultry lips as he made his way to the elevator.  The thrum of excitement beginning to fill his chest made each step more deliberate and pronounced.  Entertaining a beautiful woman had been one of his favorite things to do for over seven hundred years.  But it never got old!  And now, a Daughter of Eve?  Unbelievable!

After a tug on both lapels of his jacket and a touch to check both cuff links, he continued toward the elevator.  It occurred to him that being the oldest son of the monarch of the Vampire Hegemony had certain benefits.  Good looks and charisma were nearly always inherent in his species, but his station afforded him a certain amount of automatic respect and power.  It was also his responsibility to be the emissary to the Goddess, Eve.  He didn’t mind that either.  She had always treated him well, but she was becoming more unpredictable and maybe somewhat more unstable in recent decades as her search for the Core Stone now seemed more frantic than before.

The elevator door swished open. “I want a detail on her immediately.  I want to know where she goes, when she goes there, and what the best opportunity might be for me to coincidentally make her acquaintance,” Blaise said into his cell phone as he stepped onto the elevator and the doors softly hissed closed behind him. Returning his phone to his inside jacket pocket, Blaise dropped automatically into the power stance one would expect from a man of his station and power.  Only the slight upturned corner of one side of his mouth told of the difficulty he had maintaining a calm exterior when the eagerness he felt on the inside made him want to fist pump.

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