Possession-Blood Ties 2 by Jennifer Armintrout

wheedle. I’d never realized I was such an attention whore. “He basically shot me down.”
    “What a prick.” She sounded genuinely sorry. “That’s too bad.”
    I scuffed my toes on the carpet as I went to one of the plush chairs. “He’s a very stubborn man, isn’t he?”
    Anne stood and came around the front of the desk, where she dropped to the floor and sat cross-legged. The shiny buckles on her knee-high combat boots caught the light as she

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    made herself comfortable. “Well, you don’t get far in this organization if you’re not stubborn.”
    “I don’t know.” I watched her toy with the black rubber bracelets that looped her wrist.
    “You seem to do okay.”
    With a crooked smile, she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m a great receptionist. Where’s Max?”
    “Loading up on gadgets and supplies with which to kill my sire.” I slumped down in the chair. “I’m insane, to be waiting for him. I should be tearing off to the States.”
    “Yeah, on a commercial airliner? Good luck.” She shook her head. “Max has to look tough and serious about the job. I doubt he’ll actually kill him.”
    “Won’t he be penalized?” The Movement seemed to dole out “probation” like candy on Halloween.
    “Nah.” She made a face to accompany the guttural sound. “Max has shirked assignments before. He’ll never come out and actually say, ‘No, I’m not going to kill this vampire,’ but I can tell when it’s going to happen. He’ll call to check in and say things like, ‘No luck yet, but I’ll find the bastard.’ You know, things like John Wayne might say in a movie.”
    “That’s how Max usually talks,” I reminded her.
    She rolled her eyes. “I know, right? But this is different. He puts up a much tougher front if he’s reluctant to do the job.”
    Her assurances made me feel a little better. As much as Max and Nathan bickered, neither of them truly wanted the other dead. Maybe once we were away from the eyes and ears of the Movement, Max would change his mind.
    “So,” Anne said brightly, grasping the toes of her boots and leaning forward. “What did you think of the place?”
    “I thought it was…nice,” I offered lamely. “Not at all what I was expecting.”
    “I know, right? Most people think it’s going to be stone walls and torchlight and guys with long beards, in scary robes. I mean, we have the guys with long beards, but they only wear their robes during a ritual.” She said this with a shrug, as if it was completely normal to deal with occult forces in the workplace. “Aside from them, there’s really nothing that weird here.”
    “Well, except the Oracle,” I began casually. “But I guess I won’t be seeing her anytime soon. What’s she like?”
    “She’s like…” Anne pursed her lips as she thought. “She’s like a magic eight ball, only she can kill you.”
    I straightened a little at that. “Like, she can answer your questions?” The “like” popped from my mouth naturally. I could see how Anne had easily adopted modern teenspeak.
    “Like, with her mouth? No. But she talks through telepathy all the time.” Anne shrugged again. “But she doesn’t usually say anything that makes sense. Why, did you have a question?”
    I wasn’t sure if I should admit it or not. The notion of “personal boundaries” seemed to have escaped this eternal teenager, and while she was nice, I didn’t feel like examining my deepest fears with her. I settled on a diplomatic, “Yes.”
    “That’s cool. I’ve asked her all sorts of questions, but she’s never answered. I mean, one time she did give me a freaky vision of my spine snapping in, like, four places, but she never actually did it so I’m not worried.” After considering a moment, Anne looked up from her bracelets. “And the general wouldn’t clear you to see her?”

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