it—at least she didn’t think it was intentional. He was just more... self-contained.
Their food arrived. Her plate, with a steak, baked potato, shrimp and a salad, looked paltry compared to the six plates required to hold Eric’s dinner.
They dug in, the silence slowly changing from uncomfortable, to more relaxed. She finished her food, got a refill of her cup, and sat back, sipping the spiced blood.
She tried not to watch Eric, at least not blatantly, but he ate with such gusto, as if this was his last meal on earth and he wanted to savor it.
Thinking about the shadows usually lurking in his eyes, she wondered what had happened to him to put them there.
* * *
Eric kept his senses attuned to Cat as he ate. She seemed better, though he knew it wouldn’t last. She had to be feeling guilt, despite the fact she’d done everything she could to protect the foolish girl, Nina.
Plates cleaned, he sat back, looking at her directly. She fidgeted under his gaze.
Her green eyes dulled as she asked, “How are we going to get any information? Everyone we talk to has no idea what’s going on.”
Eric cleared his throat, concerned at the hopelessness in her voice. “There are plenty of places we haven’t looked yet. This is a big city.”
She shook her head, gaze on the table. “I’ve been searching for weeks. You’ve been looking for days. We have nothing but more of my people dead.”
“But you didn’t have my help.” He wanted to bite his tongue at the words. He didn’t want to offer such a thing as working with her. He did better on his own. But he couldn’t call them back as she looked at him, a spark of interest returning to her eyes.
“Oh? You’re not going to keep trying to be the big bad male, ordering the little woman to stay in the kitchen?”
The derision in her tone nearly made him cringe. She seemed to think he had an aversion to her being a female, rather than the fact he just didn’t want to deal with anyone.
There wasn’t any reply he could think of that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot, so he simply said, “No.”
She searched his face for something, and apparently found it, because she nodded. “Fine. What do we do next?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not the person watching us earlier is still outside.”
They had a quick argument over who was going to pay the bill. He solved it by snatching it up and taking care of it. As they headed toward the front door, he laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. Moving toward the glass window, he studied the street for any sign of their watcher.
There was nothing visible, but a heaviness twanged against his senses, directing his attention to a dark alley across the street. There was something there, a presence he couldn’t ignore.
Reaching up, he caressed BrynTröll’s handle, and glanced at Cat. “Do you have a weapon, if the need arises?”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied.
He drew the dirk from the sheath on his belt and handed it to her. “Take this, just in case.”
She rewarded him with a brief, small curving up of her lips.
He watched in approval as she tested the weight and balance of the blade.
Holding it by her thigh, unnoticeable at first glance, she nodded her readiness.
Eric proceeded outside.
The wind had picked up while they’d been inside. He inhaled the air in great breaths and smelled them immediately.
Wolves.
Cat stiffened, her gaze zeroing in on the alley across the street.
“We can’t fight them here. There are too many mortals around,” she said.
He started down the street, toward the morgue’s parking lot. She stayed at his side, occasionally glancing behind them.
He could smell the mangy beasts, moving behind the opposite buildings, matching their pace. Then the dark scent of vampires mixed with that of the wolves, coming from the same direction.
Chapter Twelve
“D o you smell the vampires?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. I don’t recognize them.”
So,
Their food arrived. Her plate, with a steak, baked potato, shrimp and a salad, looked paltry compared to the six plates required to hold Eric’s dinner.
They dug in, the silence slowly changing from uncomfortable, to more relaxed. She finished her food, got a refill of her cup, and sat back, sipping the spiced blood.
She tried not to watch Eric, at least not blatantly, but he ate with such gusto, as if this was his last meal on earth and he wanted to savor it.
Thinking about the shadows usually lurking in his eyes, she wondered what had happened to him to put them there.
* * *
Eric kept his senses attuned to Cat as he ate. She seemed better, though he knew it wouldn’t last. She had to be feeling guilt, despite the fact she’d done everything she could to protect the foolish girl, Nina.
Plates cleaned, he sat back, looking at her directly. She fidgeted under his gaze.
Her green eyes dulled as she asked, “How are we going to get any information? Everyone we talk to has no idea what’s going on.”
Eric cleared his throat, concerned at the hopelessness in her voice. “There are plenty of places we haven’t looked yet. This is a big city.”
She shook her head, gaze on the table. “I’ve been searching for weeks. You’ve been looking for days. We have nothing but more of my people dead.”
“But you didn’t have my help.” He wanted to bite his tongue at the words. He didn’t want to offer such a thing as working with her. He did better on his own. But he couldn’t call them back as she looked at him, a spark of interest returning to her eyes.
“Oh? You’re not going to keep trying to be the big bad male, ordering the little woman to stay in the kitchen?”
The derision in her tone nearly made him cringe. She seemed to think he had an aversion to her being a female, rather than the fact he just didn’t want to deal with anyone.
There wasn’t any reply he could think of that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot, so he simply said, “No.”
She searched his face for something, and apparently found it, because she nodded. “Fine. What do we do next?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not the person watching us earlier is still outside.”
They had a quick argument over who was going to pay the bill. He solved it by snatching it up and taking care of it. As they headed toward the front door, he laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. Moving toward the glass window, he studied the street for any sign of their watcher.
There was nothing visible, but a heaviness twanged against his senses, directing his attention to a dark alley across the street. There was something there, a presence he couldn’t ignore.
Reaching up, he caressed BrynTröll’s handle, and glanced at Cat. “Do you have a weapon, if the need arises?”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied.
He drew the dirk from the sheath on his belt and handed it to her. “Take this, just in case.”
She rewarded him with a brief, small curving up of her lips.
He watched in approval as she tested the weight and balance of the blade.
Holding it by her thigh, unnoticeable at first glance, she nodded her readiness.
Eric proceeded outside.
The wind had picked up while they’d been inside. He inhaled the air in great breaths and smelled them immediately.
Wolves.
Cat stiffened, her gaze zeroing in on the alley across the street.
“We can’t fight them here. There are too many mortals around,” she said.
He started down the street, toward the morgue’s parking lot. She stayed at his side, occasionally glancing behind them.
He could smell the mangy beasts, moving behind the opposite buildings, matching their pace. Then the dark scent of vampires mixed with that of the wolves, coming from the same direction.
Chapter Twelve
“D o you smell the vampires?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. I don’t recognize them.”
So,
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