Now she changed her incipient snarl into something closer to a smile. "Henry and I will manage to get along."
Celluci hid his own smile behind the coffee mug. He recognized the tone and wondered if Henry had any idea of how little choice he was about to have in the matter. He didn't want Vicki going to Vancouver, but since she'd already made up her mind, he couldn't stop her-nor was he suicidal enough to try. Since she was going, regardless, he didn't want her going alone. Besides, he'd enjoy watching his bloodsucking, royal bastardness get run over by Vicki's absolute refusal to do what was expected of her.
"All right. You win. I'm going with you."
"... things are slow right now, and I've got the time."
Inspector Cantree snorted. "You've always got the time, Detective. I'm just amazed you actually want to use some of it."
Celluci shrugged. "Something came up with a friend of Vicki's out west."
"A friend of Vicki's. Ah." The inspector stared into the oily scum on top of his coffee, the heavy stoneware mug looking almost delicate in his huge hand. "And how is 'Victory' Nelson these days? I hear she's been dealing with some strange cases since she got back in town."
Celluci shrugged again. "Someone has to. At least if they're calling her, they're not calling us."
"True." Cantree's eyes narrowed, and the look he shot at the other man was frankly speculative. "She never struck me as the type to get involved in this paranormal, occult bullshit."
Celluci only just stopped himself from shrugging a third time. "Most of her work's the same old boring crap. Cheating spouses. Insurance fraud."
"Most," Cantree repeated. It wasn't quite a ques?tion, so Celluci didn't answer it.
Inspector Cantree had narrowly escaped becoming the enchanted acolyte of an ancient Egyptian god. The others who'd been caught up in the spell had created their own explanations, but he'd insisted on hearing the truth. As he'd never mentioned it again, Celluci remained unsure of how much he'd believed.
The memory hung in the air between them for a moment, then Cantree brushed it aside, the gesture stating as clearly as if he'd said it aloud: Forty-seven homicides so far this year; I've enough to deal with. "Take your vacation, Detective, but I want your butt back here in two weeks ready to work."
"Vicki, we will never make it to Vancouver in that.'''
"I know it doesn't look like much... " Hands on her hips, Vicki swept her gaze over the grimy blue van and decided not to mention that it'd probably look worse in daylight. It looked bad enough under the security light in Celluci's driveway. "... but it's mechanically sound."
"Since when do you know anything about mechani?cally sound?"
"I don't." She turned and grinned at him, meeting his eyes and allowing power to rise momentarily in hers. "But nobody lies to me anymore."
Because it had been used for deliveries, the van box had no windows to cover. Vicki'd had a partition with wide rubber gaskets installed behind the seats and an?other just inside the rear doors.
"You got it done fast enough, didn't you?" Celluci brushed at a dusting of sawdust at the base of the front barrier and frowned at the inner bolts that en?sured there'd be no unwelcome visitors. "What hap?pens if there's an accident and I have to get you out?"
"Wait until sunset and I'll get myself out."
"There's no ventilation, and it's likely to get hotter than hell in there."
She shrugged. "I doubt I'll notice."
"You doubt?" His voice started to rise, and he forced it back down, the dark windows in the sur?rounding houses reminding him that the neighbors were still asleep and very likely wanted to remain that way. "You're not sure?"
"I'm sure that I won't feel it. Other than that... " There were a number of things about being a vampire she was having to discover as the situation came up. Henry had taught her how to feed without causing harm, how to gently change the memories of those who provided nourishment, and how to blend with the mortals who walked the day, but he'd never taught her that swimming was out of the question because increased bone density caused her to sink like a rock-scaring the shit out of the lifeguard at the "Y." Nor had he mentioned what traveling all day in the back of an enclosed van might do. "The SPCV sug?gests leaving a rear window rolled down a bit and parking out of the sun."
Celluci stared at her in confusion. "The what?"
"The society for the prevention of cruelty to vam?pires. It was a joke." She patted his arm. "Never mind. What do you think of the bed?"
He peered past her shoulder. The bed had padded sides ten inches high. "It looks like a coffin without a lid. I'm not using it."
"Suit yourself, but remember who's driving nights while you're sleeping." She mimed steering around a corner and did a fairly good impersonation of tires squealing against the road.
As Vicki's driving style hovered between kamikaze and Montreal cabbie, Celluci shuddered and checked his watch. Unfortunately, if they planned on leaving before daybreak, they didn't have time to fight about either the bed or Vicki's driving-and if he couldn't do anything about the latter, he certainly wasn't going to insist on removing the padding from the former. "Let's get going, then. It's four-twelve and sunrise is in less than forty-five minutes." When Vicki lifted both brows, he pulled a battered paperback out of his back pocket. "Farmer's Almanac. It's got sunrise and sunset for the whole year. I decided it might be best to be prepared."
"For what?" Vicki drew herself up to her full five-feet ten, her expression dangerous and purely human. This argument, or variations on the theme, long pre?dated the change. "What's the matter, Mike? You still think I can't take care of myself?"