Deadly Desire

Chapter Eight

Fortunately for me, she didn't catch a cab, but rather the nightrider bus. I climbed on after them and made my way down to the back of the bus, my wet and clingy outfit catching several appreciative glances from the male passengers. The teenager had settled about halfway down. I sat two seats behind but across from her, and tried to ignore the reek of alcohol coming from the snoring woman in the seat behind me.

The driver had classical music playing softly and with the blue interior lighting of the bus, it was a peaceful trip. Even the drunk stopped smelling as bad-either that, or my nose had become accustomed to her.

The teenager climbed off at the Dimboola Road stop in Broadmeadows and began walking down the hill. I followed, keeping far enough back so that even if headlights tore the cover of shadows away from me, she wouldn't realize she was being tailed. Not that she appeared to be really aware of anything else but getting home. I couldn't blame her-it was a miserable night.

She turned left into a street then crossed the road and ran into a house. I waited on the corner, watching as the lights come on inside, then touched the com-link lightly. "You still there, boss?"

"I'm afraid so. What's happened?"

"Hanna Mein, the co-owner of Meinhardt's, has just made contact with another teenage girl, and has employed her to sleep with a vampire for one night. I suspect we really have found our killers."

"And it undoubtedly means she's about to do another robbery-murder. Any hints as to who?"

"Yep. A vamp with a taste for unusual body markings. This girl has a wine-colored stain on her face and neck."

"That narrows the field considerably. I'll get Sal onto it straight away," he said. "I'm guessing you tracked the girl?"

He said that like it was a bad thing. "Any reason why I shouldn't have?"

He hesitated. "No. I just want these bitches stopped, Riley, that's all."

"And I'm working on it. In the meantime, we take away her tools, and maybe frustrate them into making a mistake."

He grunted. "Did you see the other owner at the club tonight?"

"Certainly did." I paused to swipe at the drips of rain rolling down my cheeks. "Maybe I was reading her wrong, but she seemed awfully uptight to me, boss."

"Well, they'd have to know these murders would be attracting Directorate attention. Where does the teenager live?"

I gave him the address. "She's got one of those magic business cards, so you're going to have to make sure Marg provides her with protection before you move her."

"I do realize that, Riley. I'm not a novice at this job, you know."

I grinned at his dry tone. "Sorry, boss. It's late and I'm tired. If don't need me for anything else, I'm off home."

"Don't be late for your new job tomorrow night."

"Like I would."

He snorted his disbelief-a sound I cut off by flicking off the com-link. I turned and headed back down Dimboola Road, wondering if I had the energy to fly home, or if I should catch a cab.

In the end, flying won, simply because there were no cabs at the rail station and I couldn't be bothered waiting for one to turn up. So I was as close to exhaustion as I'd ever been when I finally fell face first into my bed.

When I woke many hours later, it was to the scent of roses, coffee, sandalwood, and man. One smell was definitely more alluring than the others, and I forced a bleary eye open. To discover a pale pink rose sitting on the pillow.

I reached out and carefully touched it. It was real, not a figment of my overtired brain. "Thank you," I mumbled.

"You're welcome," said Quinn. "Now sit up so I can feed you some breakfast. Although technically it could be lunch, considering its well after one in the afternoon."

I scooted up in the bed and gave him a grin. He looked totally divine in faded denims that emphasized the lean strength of his legs, and a white shirt that was roughly rolled up at the sleeves, showing off his arms and shoulders. His hair, usually so neat, had that mussed, just-out-of-bed look, and when combined with a sexy smile-which he did so well-it was just about deadly. Luckily for me, there were no other females around, because he looked so hot I'd definitely be fighting them off.

"So to what do I owe this honor?" I said, reaching for the coffee on the tray.

He pulled it out of the way. "Sorry, kisses first."

"Oh, if I must," I muttered crossly, then grinned and caught his face between my hands, kissing him gently. It might not have been as explosive as the kiss I'd shared with Kye last night, but in many ways, it was far, far better.

"Now you have earned the coffee," he said, dark eyes shining with bedevilment.

I took the cup from the tray and inhaled the scent. Hazelnut. I sighed contentedly and took a sip, then eyed the bacon and eggs still on the tray.

"And what am I going to have to do to get the food?"

"Nothing. For now, anyway." He grinned as he sat down beside me then put the tray over my lap. "So how was last night?"

"Well, if I ever gave up being a guardian, I could make a ton of money as a dancer at a men's club."

"That doesn't surprise me."

He shifted a little so that his legs were touching mine. It felt good in a way that wasn't merely sexual, but more a safe, "right" kind of sensation. Like he and I had been designed to fit together like this.

"I'm actually surprised there's not more wolves in the clubs earning money," he continued. "Wolves are innately sexy, and most have great bodies."

"But not great breasts. As a race, we tend to be slender and flat. I'm just the weird exception."

"Not weird-delicious. And not every man on this planet likes his breasts large."

"No, but the largest money earners in that club seem to be the more buxom ladies-be they natural or surgically enhanced."

"It has been my experience over recent years that most males do not care if there has been surgical enhancement. It's you women that often sneer."

"Given the bitching I'd overheard in the changing rooms at the club, that's certainly true." I put the coffee down and began munching on breakfast. "I found our sorcerers. They own the club."

"Are you sure both these women are involved in the murders?"

"Pretty much. One of the women is definitely hiring teenagers to sleep with vampires-and I presume, let the sorceress into the house somehow-and the other is using the zombies and hellhounds to kill the girls."

"So you're dealing with two sorcerers, hellhounds, and zombies-not a good mix if you ask me. Which is why I got the holy water you asked for."

"Excellent." I popped a quick kiss on his cheek, then grabbed some bacon.

"I also acquired a silver knife."

I raised my eyebrows. He knew silver and I weren't compatible, so it seemed an odd purchase. "Why?"

"Because a silver knife will more easily slice through the hellhound's flesh and bone, making it simpler to decapitate them. I would suggest blinding them with the holy water first, though."

Blinding any other creature might work, but hellhounds hunted as much by scent as by sight. "So they're as allergic to silver as I am?"

"Most magical creatures have problems with pure silver. It's just more commonly known when it comes to werewolves."

"So, burn their eyes out, then cut their heads off. Easy stuff," I added with a wry grin. "Of course, me even holding a silver knife could be problematic."

"It has a bone handle. You should be able to hold it long enough to use it. When it's not in use, keep it in the sheath supplied. It has a thin lead lining, so I think it should give you enough protection."

"For an old man, you think pretty well."

"I'm not too old to teach you a thing or two, my pretty young werewolf."

"You reckon so?" I teased, one eyebrow raised.

He picked up the tray and put it on the floor beside the bed. "Obviously, I'm going to have to prove it."

"Obviously," I agreed.

Luckily for me, he did.

My shift at Meinhardt's was again uneventful, and try as I might, I couldn't spot Kye. I had no doubt he was here-every now and again awareness would wash across my skin-but I could never pinpoint the exact location. The man was a will-o'-the-wisp, and obviously had no desire to catch the promised lap dance. Which, while disappointing, actually left me quite relieved. I wasn't entirely sure either of us was strong enough to resist such a close and intimate situation, and neither of us could afford the trouble it would give us if things got out of hand.

I did see Jessica several times through the night, and again I sensed that odd air of desperation about her. It was anger and helplessness and frustration combined, and it was stronger tonight than it had been last night. And I caught her watching me several times, although she watched the other acts, too, so maybe I was just being overly nervous.

I didn't have much luck getting close to the locked and guarded doors, however, and that was damned frustrating. The only thing I actually learned over the course of the night was that the cameras monitoring the doors were also infrared, meaning they could pick out a vampire-or even a half vampire-wrapped in shadows. What lay beyond them had to be vitally important to those running the club.

Of course, it might be something as simple as living quarters or the money-counting and safe areas, but instinct suggested it was something a whole lot more sinister.

After all, the sorcerers had to be performing their magic somewhere, because they weren't likely to want to be setting up new pentagrams every time they had some evil deeds to perform. And I couldn't feel the caress of magic anywhere else in parts of the building I had access to-beyond what I'd felt when Hanna was interviewing me, anyway.

It was close to one by the time I showered, changed into warm clothes-I wasn't about to end up half frozen as I had last night, so this time I'd even bought a jacket with me-and headed out the back entrance. It was Saturday night-well, Sunday morning, technically-and King Street was a whole lot busier than the previous night. This time the heavy beat of music mixed with the raucous sound of men singing off-tune, and their noise overrode the roar of cars passing by this back alleyway.

I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and began to sing softly along with the drunks, my voice no less off-key than the men ahead. Only I wasn't drunk, just tone deaf.

After a few minutes, that odd sense of awareness washed over me again, and I couldn't help smiling. "I was wondering when you were going to come out of hiding, Kye."

He appeared out of the shadows to my right, and fell in step beside me.

"I thought I'd better, or you might just keep singing."

"Smart ass."

"Someone had to tell you. Even the rats were running for their lives." He glanced at me, eyes glowing like bright embers in the darkness. "So, are you going to arrest me?"

I glanced at him. "What would you do if I did?"

His gaze swept me briefly-a look that was almost impersonal. Almost. "A fight would ensue if you tried, and I'd hate to see bruises marring that luscious body."

"You're presuming you'd the get the chance to land the first punch. Trust me, that won't happen."

"Maybe. Maybe not." He shrugged, like it didn't matter.

And really, it didn't, because I had no intention of arresting him or getting involved in a fight with him. Sal might not have come back yet with any deep and dark secrets about this man, but every instinct I had suggested he was dangerous in ways I couldn't even begin to imagine. Getting involved with him in any way was not on the agenda-unless it was absolutely necessary.

I just wished my wolf could get that particular message.

"You didn't find me tonight," he commented into the silence.

"I had too many men wanting a dance to spend time finding one lonely little killer."

Kye's amusement swam around me, warming me in ways I couldn't even explain-and certainly didn't want to examine.

"So you looked, but couldn't spot me. Excellent."

Up ahead, near the King Street, something scraped softly against the concrete. It sounded like the nail of a dog or something similar, yet there were no animals of any kind haunting the shadows or scrounging around the overflowing bins. There didn't even appear to be any rats-maybe they had fled due to my tone-deaf singing.

"I'll find you tomorrow night," I said, concentrating more on the surrounding darkness than on what I was saying. "I'm told Sundays tend to be slower, so I'll have more time to play."

"I'll tip you a hundred if you do find me."

I glanced at him and shook my head in mock sorrow. "Overconfidence gets them every time."

"You've got to find me first."

"I will."

He smiled a disbelieving sort of smile. "Have you found out what's behind the locked doors yet?"

"Have you?" I countered, my gaze searching the night again, but still finding nothing. And yet my uneasiness was growing.

We swung onto King Street and headed down toward Flinders, as we had last night. This time I had every intention of catching a cab home-my arm muscles were still aching from last night's flight.

"Anyone who gets near those doors, even accidentally, is swiftly thrown out of the club."

He touched my arm, the contact electric as he pulled me sideways a little. I glanced down, saw the puddle of vomit, and muttered "thanks" before moving free of his grip. But the heat of it still burned my skin regardless.

"I haven't seen the blonde at the club, either," he said, "Though her scent is quite strong in various rooms."

"I've seen both of them." I didn't add where, because I didn't want him storming the offices and possibly warning her and her accomplice that we were on to their hideout.

Again that odd scratching noise whispered across the silence. I frowned and glanced over my shoulder. Nothing and no one followed us, and yet… the shadows didn't seem to be quite so empty anymore.

Something was there, watching us.

Kye stopped abruptly, but his gaze was on the road ahead rather than on the shadows behind us.

"What?" I said, halting beside him.

"Magic," he said softly.

"Magic?" I frowned, letting my senses roam ahead, feeling for anything out of place. There wasn't anything immediately obvious. Yet the unseen drunks didn't seem to be singing as loudly and an odd sort of tension was rolling through the darkness.

Then the meandering wind brought with it a familiar scent.

Sulfur.

"Oh, fuck."

"What?" he said, his gaze still ahead, his body alert.

"Hellhounds."

He glanced at me. "The ones that were at the warehouse with the crow and the zombie?"

"I think so. They've obviously come to finish the job." And Jessica had obviously suspected me a whole lot more than I'd figured.

I swung my bag around and began picking through the mess of clothes to find the small containers of holy water. I dragged out two and handed one to Kye.

Kye shook the container, then gave me a somewhat dubious look. "Water?"

"Holy water. It burns them like acid and will blind them if it gets in their eyes."

"You really are a most surprising woman, Riley Jenson."

His expression was an odd mix of amusement, excitement, and hunger. The hunter was ready for his kill-and I wasn't entirely sure who, exactly, was his prey. Nor was I sure whether the shiver that rolled across my skin was excitement or fear.

"So how do we kill it?" he continued.

"Them," I corrected, shoving the container into my jeans pocket, which freed up my hands but kept the water within easy grabbing range. "I think there's two-one in front, one behind. And decapitation is the only way we can get rid of them."

"Do we attack, or do we wait for them to come to us?"

He didn't seem perturbed either way, but then he hadn't fought these things before. I had, and I'd prefer not to relive the experience if I could avoid it.

"Let's keep moving. They may not be here for us at all."

"You don't believe that any more than I do."

Well, no. And I couldn't help wondering why they were stalking me tonight. If they'd been at the club all along-and I had no doubt their mistress would keep them close, for safety's sake if nothing else-then why hadn't they come after me last night? She'd suspected me then, too.

And the hounds couldn't have picked up my scent at the club because I'd used Liander's special soap both times… Then I stopped and cursed myself for being a fool. I may have used Liander's soap before my shift, but I hadn't used it when I took a shower after work. Which meant I'd washed away the neutralizer and allowed my own natural scent to come through.

That's why they'd picked it up. It was a stupid, stupid, thing to do, and one I'd make sure never to repeat. If I got out of this situation okay, that is.

We walked on, our footsteps light on the concrete. Cars rushed by, their headlights tearing through the surrounding shadows and revealing nothing more ominous than discarded soda containers and old hamburger wrappings.

I flared my nostrils, trying to catch the scent of sulfur, but it seemed to have disappeared as easily as it had come. Yet they were still out there, still watching. I could feel them, like a blot of evil growing on the horizon.

Kye stopped again. "The feel of magic just got sharper."

I viewed the street ahead. I still couldn't sense anything more than I had moments ago, but that didn't mean much. "You're sensitive to magic?"

"Yeah, something like that," he said, voice clipped. "There's people walking this way, too. Unless you want to endanger them, we'd better bring this thing to a head in a more secure spot."

"And here I was thinking you didn't care about anything or anyone else but yourself," I said, then pointed up Little Bourke Street. "There's several small alleys there that aren't really used at night. It'll limit the possible damage to others."

"That'll do, then."

We headed across the street and down to the first alley. The sulfur scent drifted past again, sharper and closer than before. I still couldn't feel the hellhound in front of us, but there was definitely one behind.

The reek of rot and rubbish from the nearby bins filled the air, overriding every other smell. As I stared into the darkness, I reached into my bag for the knife, drawing it from the sheath and out into the darkness. The silver blade seemed to glow with its own blue fire, and markings I hadn't noticed before suddenly appeared along the blade's length. But its closeness burned my skin. I wouldn't be able to hold it for very long, bone handle or not.

"More magic," Kye said, voice flat and all the more dangerous for it. He was looking at me rather than at the knife. "That's an interesting looking implement you've got there."

"It's a gift from a concerned lover."

Something flared in his eyes-something dark and very, very dangerous. "I'd like to meet this lover sometime and find out where he got it."

"It's silver, Kye. Silver and werewolves are never a good mix,"

"Neither are werewolves and vampires, but that doesn't seem to have stopped you."

His comment surprised me enough that all I could do for several seconds was stare at him, then anger surged and I lashed out. He caught the blow in his fist, holding it tight. "Don't ever hit me, Riley."

"Don't ever creep around in my head," I snapped back, pulling my fist from his. Surprise flickered briefly through his eyes before the mask returned. "Or I'll fry your fucking mind to a crisp."

"It's not like I want to," he said, voice still flat, and yet sounding oddly frustrated. "Trust me on that."

"You're a telepath. You have the choice to intrude or not. Trust me, the not is the best option here."

"I'm not a telepath, Riley. I've told you that-"

I clamped a hand over his mouth, stopping his denial. Not that I believed it, anyway. "Listen."

For several seconds there were no sounds beyond the usual for this time of night. Then it came-the soft scrape of a nail against concrete.

They were on us.

But they weren't just coming from the main street. One of them was above us, on the roof.

Kye swung around and pulled out a gun from under his coat. The burn of silver suddenly became stronger.

"You carry silver bullets?" I asked, slipping my bag over my shoulder and tossing it into the shadows, out of the way.

"In certain situations, yes. Back to back, Riley. They're going to come at us from two angles."

"Thanks for telling me that. I would never have guessed otherwise," I said sarcastically, but he didn't answer.

I looked at the rooflines above us. A shadow moved in low and fast, and then it leapt.

"Drop," I said, doing exactly that, trying to scrunch myself into the smallest possible ball. As the hound flew over the top of us, I slashed with the knife. The blue fire on the blade seemed to blaze even brighter as it scoured the creature's stomach, burning through hair and flesh and down into gut. Blood and God knows what else gushed, thick and black and putrid, splattering across my clothes and burning like acid. I swore and tore off my coat, but by then the creature had turned and was leaping again.

Two shots ran across the night. The creature jerked and twisted away from us. For a moment I thought the shots had missed, then I saw the hole in the side of its jaw, the blood and bone splattered across the nearby wall.

It snarled, revealing wickedly sharp teeth. Kye twisted around and fired off a third shot. It took the creature in the chest, ripped through flesh and bone, then clean through its body, smashing into the wall behind it. The creature howled and leaped.

I grabbed Kye, pulling him sideways, both of us falling to the ground hard. Again the creature flew over us, but this time it lashed out. Claws raked my side, spilling warmth down my hip.

I bit back a yelp of pain and slashed with the knife, missing its belly but getting a hind leg. Toes and gleaming claws plopped down onto the pavement beside me.

"Oh, fuck, here comes the other one," Kye said, scrambling to his feet before reaching down to grab my arm and haul me upright.

"Use the holy water. We have to blind them if we're to have any hope at all."

"Whatever else these things are, they're hounds," he said grimly. "They hunt by scent."

"They can't if you destroy their sensory center as well."

He didn't look convinced that would work, and in honesty, I wasn't, either.

"You take the injured one," he said.

"Kye-" But I was already talking to the air.

Soft padding steps echoed behind me. I twisted around, the knife held in front of me like a blazing lance. I wished it was a lance-long and strong and wickedly sharp-because it was the only way I was going to beat this thing without getting too damn close.

The bloodied hellhound stalked toward me, its steps measured, its gaze on mine, luminous and deadly. Fear stirred in my stomach, but I pushed it away. I'd beaten these things once before. I could do it again.

It sprang. There was no warning, no bunching of muscles. One minute it was walking, the next it was in the air. I twisted out of its way, slashing at the soft flesh of its neck, hoping to at least sever something vital.

Again the blue fire erupted along the blade, but the hellhound shifted at the last moment, and the knife barely skimmed the creature's flesh.

It snarled and slashed out with its claws. I leapt backward, crashed into some bins, then spilled sideways along with the rubbish. I caught my balance and backed away, down the lane, drawing the creature away from Kye, who seemed to be having no more luck with his creature than I was with mine.

The hound shook its head, spraying droplets of blood that hit the brick walls of the buildings on either side of us and began to sizzle. These things had acid for blood. What the hell kind of hound were they? At least the other hounds I'd faced in the past hadn't possessed deadly bodily fluids.

It leapt again. As I ran backward, out of the way, I drew the small container from my pocket and popped the top. But I didn't throw it, holding steady as the creature hit the pavement and launched again. When it was near enough that I could smell its fetid breath, I threw the holy water. The liquid arced across the air like a silver ribbon, hitting the creature across the snout and splashing upward, into its eyes.

The hellhound screamed, the sound so high and piercing that I had to resist the urge to thrust my hands up to my ears to muffle the sound. I twisted out the creature's way, but it was too close and moving too fast. It hit with incredible force, lifting me off my feet and throwing me backward.

I smashed into the wall, cracking my head against the brick and driving the breath from my lungs. Pain hit like a truck and blood spurted, the metallic taste filling my mouth. I spat it out and scrambled sideways, somehow avoiding the creature's slashing paws. A weird bubbling sound rode the air, accompanied by the scent of burning flesh. The holy water, doing its stuff, but nowhere near fast enough for my liking.

I twisted around, knife once again in front of me, and saw the mess that was the creature's face. It wasn't dead. Wasn't even stopped. Its olfactory senses might be in the process of being destroyed, but right now it could still smell me. And it attacked-hard, fast, and low. I leapt out of the way, rolled to my feet, and slashed at its neck with the knife. This time it cut deep, and black blood spurted from the creature's wound, spraying across my face and arms, stinging like acid.

I swore and scrambled away, stripping off my shirt and hastily swiping at the blood. It did little more than smear the stinking black fluid, but at least the sting lessened. The scrape of nails against concrete echoed across the night-the creature, coming after me again. I kept running, gathering speed, then leapt, as high and as hard as I could. I grabbed the gutters of the nearest building and hauled myself up onto the roof.

The creature leapt after me. I sidestepped and swept the knife down hard. The blazing blade sliced through flesh and bone with little effort, and the hellhound's head dropped at my feet. Its momentum kept the body flying past, so that it crashed back down several feet away. Blue flames spread quickly across its remains, consuming its flesh until there was nothing left but ash.

Ash the wind quickly scattered. Even the smeared blood on my arms disappeared.

One down, one to go.

I leapt over the remaining bits of soot and ran across the rooftop. Below in the alleyway, the second creature howled, and this time there was no answering shot. Kye was running backward, slashing at the creature with a short knife, chipping at the claws that threatened to rend him in two, but doing little else to stop it.

The hellhound's face was ruined, its nose rotting and ready to fall off, its eyes mere holes. It didn't matter, it was relying on sound and its ears were in perfect working order. I stopped, took a deep breath, then, as Kye passed my position, leapt.

I landed on the creature's back and wrapped my legs around its belly. It roared and began to buck, twist, and turn. I held on, raised the knife, then plunged it down as hard as I could, thrusting the blade deep into its neck before twisting it hard. As one side of the creature's neck began to split away from its body, I pulled out the knife and hacked at the remaining skin.

The creature crashed to the ground, taking me with it. Kye leapt in, grabbed my arms, and hauled me free from the creature, but already it was beginning to disintegrate, the blue flame of the knife crawling over its body, consuming it, until there was nothing left but ash blowing away on the breeze.

"I really am going to have to get one those knives," he said, lifting me upright with little effort. "They do a rather efficient job on hell's beasties."

"That they do." I stepped back then moved across to the bins to retrieve my bag. My hip ached in protest, and blood gushed warmly down my leg. But I couldn't shapeshift when I was holding silver, and I wouldn't have done so anyway. Kye might have fought by my side, but I didn't entirely trust him.

Though I wasn't sure what he could do when I was in wolf form that he couldn't do when I was in human. I shoved the knife back into its sheath, then picked up the bag and my coat and swung around.

"Will the witch sense the death of her hounds?" he asked, his crossed arms slashed and bleeding almost as much as my leg.

Maybe he didn't trust me enough to change shape and stop the bleeding.

It was a somewhat cheery thought, if only because I didn't think there was much that made this wolf pause. Certainly the hellhounds hadn't fazed him.

"From what I understand, sorcerers use a lot of 'personal' magic as well as their own blood to raise the sort of magic required for the hellhounds. So yes, she will probably feel their deaths."

"Meaning she might come here to investigate."

"I doubt it. Whatever else these women might be, they aren't stupid. And that would be a stupid move."

"Still, it's worth staying here to check. If the bad guys never did stupid things, then we good guys would never catch them."

I snorted softly. "I hardly think you can stand in line with the good guys, Kye."

"Depends on who's paying me at the time," he said, without the slightest trace of humor. "Right now, I'm on the side of the angels."

"I don't think the angels appreciate it." Or wanted it.

"Tough," he said, leaving me wondering if he was answering my spoken or unspoken comment. If I'd had more energy, I might have retaliated and found out, but right now, I just wanted to go home, have a shower, and grab some sleep.

"Well, you can have this watch all to yourself. Although I would appreciate being told if anything interesting happens."

"If anything interesting happens, I'll give you a call."

"You haven't got my number." And he wasn't going to get it, either.

He smiled. It was the sort of smile that suggested getting information like that wasn't a problem. And for someone like him, it probably wasn't. Hell, he'd probably already snatched it in his sneaky mind raids.

And how he did that, when I supposedly had shields strong enough to keep out the likes of Quinn and Jack-who were the strongest telepaths I'd ever met-is one of the many things I wanted to know. But not now, when I was so bone tired.

"Good night, Kye."

"Don't let the vampires bite."

"Why shouldn't I?" I countered sweetly, "when that only adds to the overall pleasure? And trust me, it is pleasurable."

He didn't say anything, but there was a fierceness in his eyes that made something deep inside tremble. I had an odd feeling I'd just flung a challenge his way, and I was going to regret it.

Or worse still, not regret it.

I hitched my bag up onto my shoulder and walked away before I got myself into deeper trouble.

Getting a taxi when I looked like something the dog had thrown up proved to be problematic. So was flying home clutching a bag filled with clothes, holy water, and a great big silver knife. Which meant I ended up walking-not fun, and a pretty crappy way to end the night.

I slept the sleep of the dead when I got home, and it was well after three by the time I dragged myself back to the land of the living.

The apartment was quiet, but the scent of coffee lingered in the air, tantalizing my taste buds. Hoping Liander had left the percolator on for me, I flung the blankets off and climbed out of bed. My hip twinged a reminder to be careful, and I glanced down. Three pink scars stretched from the top of my hip to my thigh-a stark reminder of just how close I'd come to death again last night. One of these days, my luck was going to change.

I shivered and thrust the thought away as I walked into the kitchen. The coffee was still warm, and I breathed deep, sucking in the delicious scent, feeling it flow down through my body, waking and revitalizing.

Coffee on call, without having to wait for the kettle to boil, had to be one of life's greatest pleasures. Of all the good things Liander had brought to our lives, the coffeemaker had to be among the best of them.

I poured myself a cup, then splashed in some milk, taking several sips before I shoved some bread in the toaster. My cell phone rang, and I knew without doubt it would be Jack. He always seemed to pick the worst possible moments to call with an update.

I walked into the living room, dug my phone out of my bag, and hit the receive button.

"I was going to call in a report right after I had a coffee, boss," I said.

"I'm not ringing for a report," he said, voice flat and annoyed.

Which couldn't mean that anything good had happened.

"Then what's the problem?"

"We've got ourselves another dead vampire, and this time it's really bad."