me over, a small smile on his pretty face. Dark, delicate, he walked the way a fencer or dancer might, feet placed with precise balance. "Not now."
Rafe stepped in front of the small group, hands clasped behind his back, and looked me over as though he might make an offer. "George, your master keeps such intriguing pets."
My eyebrows reached my hairline. "Pets?" I spat.
Rafael laughed and nodded to Bruiser. "George."
"Sir," Bruiser said, tone neutral.
Rafe turned and moved through the six vamps. They swiveled on their heels and followed him. And were gone, leaving Bruiser and me alone in the hallway.
"That was seriously freaky," I said.
"Yes. More than you know," Bruiser said, musing. "The Mithrans facing you were from two different alliances. I think this was . . . indicative. Those two in the red dresses -
Lanah and Hope - belong to Adrianna of St. Martin, who is allied with Leo. Nasty pieces of work, they are, but with the scent-marking, they should have protected you. A game is being played here, but I don't know what it is." He glanced at me, that small smile hovering on his lips. "You do create interesting situations, Jane Yellowrock. How many stakes do you have in your hair?"
"Not one," I said, lying and telling the truth all at once. I had more than one, so "not one" was the truth. Sorta. I was going to have to get down on my knees and confess a whole lotta half sins, nearly sins, and wanted-to sins. Guilt wriggled under my skin.
"And crosses?" he asked dryly.
Not willing to lie outright, I said, "One tiny one you nearly dislodged in the limo."
Bruiser glanced at the plunging neckline of my new dress and his mouth did that little twitch of a quirk. "It's well secured, then. Keep it that way."
I looked at the shattered plate and salmon at our feet. "Sorry about that."
"It let us see who flinched."
I grinned. "It did, didn't it?"
Chapter 9
Fast cars and money lead back to dames
"George Dumas, first blood-servant to Pellissier." The soft words floated from down the hallway, bouncing off the old brick, a female vamped-out voice, the inflection asking Bruiser to join her. I glanced at him and without a word we swiveled, our bodies moving as if we had trained together for years.
A little vamp stood just inside an open cubicle with a door, the space lit with bright electric lights. She beckoned; we moved toward her. The room behind her was a big pantry, three shelf-lined walls organized with cans and boxes, with household appliances on a side wall, including a washer and dryer. We were at the back of the warehouse; I could smell the Mississippi River strong on the air. I hesitated in the dim hallway, scent-searching on a quick breath, taking her in.
She was short, model-slender, with streaked blond hair and the bluest eyes I'd seen on anyone, human or not. A diamond necklace big enough to qualify as a collar circled her neck, and diamond and blue topaz drops the size of walnuts dangled from her ears. "In here," she whispered. I didn't know her and wasn't inclined to follow. Bruiser, however, stepped closer, which brought us even. Vamp-fast, she snatched my right arm and Bruiser's left, her tiny hand like a steel cuff, cold and cutting. And strong.
Faster than thought, I reached for a stake. She yanked. Hurled me off my feet. Tossed me inside. I hit the back shelves. Stake in hand, I pushed off. Looked back. Without effort, she threw Bruiser at me. With him in midair, the pantry door slammed. I got a quick look at it - three inches of hardwood reinforced with iron straps. A trap.
I caught Bruiser one handed. We impacted with pained grunts, the shelves ramming into my unprotected back. The lock clicked home. Using his own momentum, I shoved Bruiser aside. He hit the floor in a controlled roll on hands and knees, and got up to his feet at nearly vamp speed.
A stake in each hand, I rushed her. She was fast. The vamp caught me again and whirled me into a corner in a dance-step-smooth martial art move. She scuttled away from us.
Her back against the door, hands out, placating. "I'm not here to hurt you," she said as I found my footing.
Not caring what she claimed, I pulled my tiny blade and reversed it in my grip, street fighting position. Beast hissed but stayed down, watching, her claws in my mind like steel