The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) 📕

But before she could stand, I placed a hand on her forearm. Sonny wasn’t as pale as the creature Rancho had described, but I couldn’t ignore his long hair—or the fact he would have employed hundreds of women over the years, maybe even made blood slaves out of a few of them.

“I imagine the turnover in your line of work is pretty high,” I said.

“No flies on you,” Sonny replied with a tired smile, front teeth glinting gold. “Just when you get them pulling in real money, too. They forget who made them that money, you know?” He turned toward the closed door that led onto the club, a den of black lights, thumping music, and sinuous, sweating bodies. Detective Vega hadn’t been thrilled about having to walk through the club to get to the office. Neither had I, to be honest.

“Did any of them leave here with an appetite for blood?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sonny’s gaze snapped back to mine, his left eyelid jittering faster. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

Sonny waved a hand of sharpened nails. “Once they leave, the girls aren’t my business anymore.”

In my peripheral vision, I could see Vega’s gaze moving between us, brow furrowed, no doubt wondering where in the hell the interview was going. I wasn’t sure myself. But I was getting the impression that if I could rattle Sonny hard enough, something useful might fall out.

“You’re familiar with the big investment bankers downtown, right?” I asked.

“What about them?”

“They like a certain degree of invisibility, don’t they? I mean, in terms of who they are?”

Sonny wet his lips with a pale tongue.

“It just strikes me that if they thought you were being, I don’t know, careless with your women, they might decide to come uptown and have a word with you.”

“Look, man,” Sonny said, a note of fear entering his voice. I could feel cold power radiating from him, but it didn’t compare to Arnaud’s. A fact Sonny must have known too. “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t do that to my girls. I don’t turn them into anything.”

At that moment, music burst through the opening door. A ginger-haired woman in glittering red shoes and a matching thong stepped into the office, her curves bared to the world.

“Sorry,” she said between smacks of gum. “Didn’t know you had visitors.”

“No, I’m glad you came,” Sonny said. He scooted back and patted his thighs. “Come over here, sugar. Have a seat.”

She did as he said and plopped onto his lap, her mascara-lined eyes regarding us with utter disinterest.

“How long have you been with me, Casey?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “Fifteen years?”

“Nineteen, sugar.” He stroked her cheek with a long nail, sending chills through me. Everything about the vampire repulsed me. He cut his eyes to mine. “Nineteen years, and look at her. A hundred percent flesh and blood.”

He was right. She exhibited none of the waxiness of a blood slave. And though her eyes verged on lifeless, I suspected that had more to do with a combination of drug use and regular blood draws. I studied Casey’s neck and arms for marks. Sonny apparently caught on to what I was doing.

“You think I’d damage the merchandise?” he asked with a laugh. “Casey, show the man your ticklish spot.”

“Now?” she said.

“Go on.”

With a sigh, Casey set a high heel on the desktop and undid the thick strap across the top of her foot. She peeled back the strap to reveal red punctures in the scarred skin—Sonny’s watering hole.

“You see,” he said. “I only take enough to keep me going, nothing more.”

He brushed a thumb over the years’ worth of punctures as though they were a work of art. Casey wriggled and let out a giggle. Sonny’s eyes suddenly narrowed, and he shoved her off him.

“Hey!” She stumbled and braced herself against the wall, balancing on one high heel to refasten the loose strap on the other.

“Get back out there,” Sonny barked. “You’re not making any money in here.”

“And you are?” she shot back.

In a flash, Sonny was on his feet. I didn’t know what his intentions were—maybe just to yell some more—but seeing Casey flinch away was enough. I slammed Sonny into the wall and tackled him to the floor. A dry erase board with the dancers’ schedules clattered on top of us. Sonny was stronger and faster than me, but I had caught him off guard. Before he could wrestle free, I yanked his head back by the hair and shoved Grandpa’s ring against his throat.

“You might not know what this is,” I said between gritted teeth. “But I know you can feel its power.”

Sonny’s shades were hanging from one ear, and his naked eyes seethed red. “I can destroy you, human,” he hissed, a second set of spiny teeth growing through his gums.

“The ring will destroy you first.”

“Get up,” Vega said, pulling the dry erase board away. “Both of you.”

Sonny’s eyes shifted to where she was standing over him, her pistol aimed down at his head. Her standard-issue bullets wouldn’t kill him, but they would hurt like hell until he could reconstitute his form. Sonny must have decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. He retracted his teeth and showed his palms.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You said this was gonna be an informal interview.”

I got up and moved back, keeping my ring trained on him. He fixed his sunglasses as he stood, then gave his hair a light toss. When he noticed Casey still in his office, he flicked his hand.

“Go on, sugar,” he said gently. “Back to work, huh?”

Thrusting her chest out defiantly, Casey turned and marched from the office, as though leaving of her own initiative. “Asshole,” she said before the door closed behind her.

“Bitch,” Sonny grumbled as he returned to his desk and sat down hard. “Always had a mouth on her. Probably getting too old for this gig, anyway.”

Vega holstered her weapon and dropped a