Blood Price - By Tanya Huff Page 0,62

from the grimoire. She hesitated to say the ancient book exuded an aura of evil-that sounded so horror novel cliché-but she noticed that even Henry touched it as infrequently as possible.

Henry, busy with protractor and ruler, laughed humorlessly. "The next three points in three possible patterns," he pointed out.

"Great." Vicki straightened and shoved her glasses up her nose. "More complications. Where do we do first?"

"Where do I go first," Henry corrected absently. He straightened as well, rubbing his temples. The bright light that Vicki seemed to need to function was giving him a headache. "It had better be this area here' He tapped the map just east of the Humber River between Lawrence and Eglinton Avenues. "This pattern continues the least complicated of the three. Theoretically, it will be the first finished."

"Theoretically?"

Henry shrugged. "This is demon lore. There aren't any cut and dried answers. Experts in the field tend to die young."

Vicki took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There were never any cut and dried answers. She should know that by now. "So you've never actually done this sort of thing before."

"Not actually, no. 'This sort of thing' doesn't happen very often."

"Then if you don't mind my asking," she flicked a finger at the grimoire, still carefully keeping her distance, "why do you own one of these?"

Henry looked down at the book although Vicki could tell from his expression he wasn't really seeing it. "I took it from a madman," he said harshly. "And I don't wish to speak of it now."

"All right." Vicki fought the urge to back away from the raw anger in Henry's voice. "You don't have to. It's okay."

With an effort, he put the memory aside and managed what he hoped was a conciliatory smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

She stiffened. "You didn't."

The smile grew more genuine. "Good."

Well aware she was being humored, Vicki cleared her throat and changed the subject. "You said the other night we had no way of knowing if these were all the demonic names."

"That's right." He'd been trying not to think of that.

"So these deaths might be spelling out a name that's not in the book."

"Right again."

"Shit." Arms wrapped around herself, Vicki walked over to the window and rested her forehead against the cool glass. The points of light below, all she could see of the city, looked cold and mocking. A thousand demonic eyes in the darkness. "What are we supposed to do about it?"

"Exactly what we are doing." it could have been a rhetorical question, but sometimes Henry felt even they needed answering and he wanted to give her what comfort he could. "And we hope and we pray and we don't give up."

Vicki's head rose and she turned to face him. "I never give up," she said testily.

He smiled. "I never thought you did."

He really does have a phenomenal smile, Vicki thought, appreciating the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. She felt her own lips begin to curl in answer and gave herself a mental shake, forcing her face to give no indication of a sudden strong wave of desire. Four hundred and fifty years of practice, a body in its mid-twenties, supernatural prowess...

Henry heard her heart speed up and his sensitive nose caught a new scent. He hadn't fed for forty-eight hours and he would need to soon. If she wants me, it would be foolish to deny her.... Having long since outgrown the need to prove himself by forcing the issue-he knew he could take what he wanted-he would allow her to make the first move. And what of vows to stay uninvolved until after the demon has been dealt with? Well, some vows were made to be broken.

Her heartbeat began to slow and, while he applauded her control, he didn't bother to hide his disappointment.

"So." The word caught and Vicki cleared her throat. This is ridiculous. I'm thirty-one years old. I'm not seventeen. "I learned a few things up at 31 Division that might have some bearing on the case."

"Oh?" Henry raised a red-gold brow and perched on the edge of the table.

Vicki, who would have given her front teeth to be able to raise a single brow without her entire forehead getting involved, frowned at the picture he made. To give him credit, she didn't think he was aware of how the light from the chandelier burnished his hair, and how the position stretched the brown corduroy pants he wore tight over muscular thighs. With an effort,