“Who else?”
The dark eyes narrowed and Santiago knew she was weighing her desire to keep walking against her mysterious duty to the Oracles.
In the end there really was no choice.
For either of them.
“How do you know?” She at last forced the question past her stiff lips.
“He’s my sire.”
She studied him a long moment. “You couldn’t sense him before.”
“No,” he instantly agreed. Did she think he was lying? “There was something blocking our bond.”
“And now?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t kick in until I reached this lair, but now I can feel him, although it’s still muted.”
Her dark brows drew together. “Why?”
Santiago moved to stand directly before her, obsessed by the need to keep her close.
“Since I’m 100 percent certain you know a hell of a lot more about what’s going on,” he drawled, “why don’t you explain it to me?”
She took a deliberate step backward. “I have no information.”
Step forward. “Nefri.”
“What?”
“Can you sense him?”
Her slender fingers lifted to touch the medallion, her jaw tightening. “No.”
He reached out to capture her fingers, which still clutched the medallion like a lifeline, his knuckles resting against the soft curve of her breast. “Can you catch his scent?”
“No.”
“Then you need me.”
“Your lack of manners is only exceeded by your complete arrogance.”
A wicked smile curved his lips at her icy rebuttal. “Oh no, cara, the rules of the game have changed.”
She tensed. One predator sensing another. Not that she was going to concede defeat. Not without a fight. Good. Strong women were so damned sexy.
“What game?”
“The last time you called the shots, this time—” His words broke off as he caught the unmistakable scent of granite approaching the back steps.
No. Oh no. Fate couldn’t be that cruel.
But it seemed it was.
Even as he turned, the door leading to the bog of a backyard was being shoved open and a tiny gargoyle waddled into the kitchen.
“Did something die in here?” the creature muttered, his ridiculous wings twitching. “I smell”—he came to a halt, regarding Santiago with a sour smile—“vampire.”