Blood Debt - By Tanya Huff Page 0,70

life, it seemed practice made a difference. By the time his heels rang against the Mexican slate in the entrance hall, reason had gained the upper hand. This is Vicki, he pointed out to his reflection in the gilt-edged mir?ror. She doesn't want your territory.

His reflection answered with a wry smile. This is Vicki, pretty much covered the situation. She'd been unique as a mortal-nothing she did now should sur?prise him. During the short time they'd had together, he'd done things he'd never have considered doing on his own. Perhaps there's no need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. It wasn't St. Paul on the road to Damascus, but it was an epiphany nevertheless. Per?haps, he repeated thoughtfully to himself.

"That wasn't Celluci. It was someone who didn't know Ms. Evans had died."

Henry walked back to the archway that separated the living room from the entrance hall. In the interest of mutual nonaggression, he went no farther. "You're worried about him."

"No shit, Sherlock." Both hands splayed against the glass, she stood staring down at the city, not for that moment a predator looking down on prey.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just... " She shrugged self?consciously.

"Have a hunch?" Henry offered, wishing he could cross the room and stand by her side.

"Yeah. A hunch. Doesn't seem very vampiric, does it?"

"It is if you have one."

Vicki turned to glare at him, one hand rising toward the glasses she no longer wore in a not-quite-forgotten gesture. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No. I'm not." Although he could see how it might sound as if he was. "Vicki, no one ever told you how to be human, you were human just by being. Don't let anyone tell you how to be what you are now."

"Not even you?"

"Not even me, not anymore. I taught you what you needed to know in the year after the change. The rest is ..." It was his turn to shrug.

"Ego?"

His eyes narrowed, and his chin rose. "Tradition. But just because we've always responded in such a way, doesn't mean we have to."

Had the window not been right behind her, she'd have stepped back in simulated shock. As it was, she raised both hands to shoulder height and exclaimed, "Good lord, Henry, you're evolving!"

"Don't push it."

The words came shaded with a dark warning that would've brought an answering snarl had Vicki's sense of fair play not acknowledged it was no more than she deserved. Ah, hell, that was worth one snarl.

Leaning back against the glass, she hooked her thumbs in her belt loops, the most nonaggressive pos?ture she could manage. They still had the length of the living room between them, would probably always need a physical distance between them-except on those rare, intoxicating occasions of mass slaughter and mindless, blood-soaked sex-but now it looked as if other distances might not be insurmountable. "You'd better get going, Tony'll be waiting."

Tony. Mutual awareness of a dissolving relationship hung in the air. Henry brushed it aside. "What about Michael?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll wait here for him to call; or something."

"That's not the way it was supposed to be, is it? You waiting here, me out investigating."

"Well, I can't do everything myself."

Red-gold brows lifted. "Seems like I'm not the only one evolving." The small fringed cushion very nearly smacked him square in the face. "You have my cell phone number? Remember conversations can be picked up on short wave," he cautioned when she pulled his card from her pocket and waved it at him.

Vicki snorted, shoving the card away. "Do I look like a member of the royal family?"

The bastard son of Henry VIII threw the cushion at her head and was out of the condo by the time she caught it.

Although Vicki would have denied it had anyone brought it up, she was glad that he was gone. Within a certain proximity, the complicated stresses linking them dominated her thoughts, and right now that made her feel disloyal to Celluci.

You know how you wanted Henry and me to stop ripping at each other? Well, we went on a completely unpremeditated rampage together, killed I don't know how many people, and ended up screwing almost on top of a corpse. It seems to have helped. She snorted. I don't think so.

His absence chewed at her, and she couldn't remain still. She had no reason to believe he might be in trouble but, equally, no reason to disbelieve. Finding herself in the master bedroom, she sank down onto the edge of the bed