The bundle of blood red roses stuffed under his nose made Niles Gule sneeze. He was a vampire, with a vampire’s sensitive ability to smell, so carrying two dozen long-stemmed red roses into the precinct was torture. He hadn’t realized he was allergic to the things. His blue eyes watered as he sneezed again.
The woman at the front desk gave him a look. “Maybe I need to see some ID,” she joked. “Can’t see your face behind all that.”
Niles peered around the bouquet and gave Miranda Gonzalez his most brilliant smile, which melted her instantly. She was a lady in her late fifties, divorced twice, and desperate for a new man. She’d always watched Baltimore’s resident vampire with hungry eyes, not aware he was a vampire. He realized her longing gaze was just that, longing. She knew better than to hope she could capture the attention of an…
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