Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,48

I had worked out. One of the Denver vampires had been poisoned by belladonna. I had fed her some of my blood the night before, but she needed more death-magic-infused blood to help her wake up. I watched Emil’s face carefully as I spoke, alert for any sign that he knew about the belladonna attacks, but his expression remained puzzled and interested, never guilty.

“So you’d like me to donate some of my blood to this vampire,” he said slowly.

“Mmm, it’s a little more than that. We’d also like to press you to make sure you forget what she looks like and where she’s located.”

I held my breath, certain he’d be offended, but he just looked sort of perplexed. “I’m not sure I understand. Why is this person so important to you?”

I had been expecting that question. “She’s my friend,” I said, and was surprised when it didn’t even sound like a lie. “I’m not even sure your blood will work, but if you’re up for it, I’d truly appreciate if you could try.”

“I don’t know either,” he admitted. He paused for a moment, then plunged on, “Lex, I know you don’t know me well, but is it really necessary to press me? I have no interest in telling anyone about the Old World here in Colorado.”

“I understand,” I assured him. “But remember when I said I’m a security consultant? It would look really bad for me if I let just anyone—no offense—know where we’re hiding an injured vampire.”

He tilted his head for a long moment, thinking that over. I took a few bites of my dessert, giving him a little space to consider.

“I realize that you didn’t have to tell me you were planning to press me,” he said at last. “You could have just done it, and I never would have known the difference. I appreciate the honesty.”

I nodded. Quinn had argued against warning Emil we were going to press him, but I’d insisted. I had no idea what my relationship with this man would end up looking like, but starting it with a betrayal, even a small one, wouldn’t help.

“I will do this for you,” he pronounced. “But in exchange, I’d like for you to seriously consider coming to visit Sophia and me in Halifax.”

It seemed like a small price to pay, and I wasn’t actually promising anything, so I nodded. “It’s a deal.”

We made plans to meet at nine o’clock—he could feed Maven anytime, but we would need Quinn there to press him afterward.

Then I went home, resolved to do some research online about belladonna, even the regular variety. When I walked through the door, though, I suddenly felt exhausted . . . and oddly satisfied. We had a plan, we had the help we needed, and maybe things would be okay. I could probably afford to take a little nap. I collapsed on top of my covers and immediately drifted off to sleep.

There were no dreams at all.

I woke up to a slight, scraping pain on my hip: the familiar sensation of a dog gently clawing for my attention. I cracked open an eye and saw Cody and Chip panting happily at the side of the bed, their humid breath on my face. There was a much-abused tennis ball rolling slowly toward me. Dopey, the mentally deficient Yorkshire terrier, was on the bed next to me, her tongue hanging out as she scratched at me again. “You’re working for them now?” I complained, looking around. The clock on my bedside table said six p.m., which meant I still had a few hours before I had to be anywhere. Next to my knee, Pongo lifted his head and gave me a particularly mournful look, as if saying, “I told them not to wake you.”

I laughed and sat up, the willing victim of yet another dog conspiracy. “All right, mongrels,” I said. “We’ll go play.”

I put on my oldest hiking boots and we all tromped out to the yard, where Chip and Cody terrorized the tennis ball while Dopey scampered back and forth twenty feet behind them, pleased as hell to be involved. Pongo ignored all of us and flopped over in the shade next to the house. We played for a long time, until Chip began to flag, letting Cody get ahead of him to the ball. “One more throw and we’re going in, you guys!” I called out to them.

I reared back and threw the ball as hard as I could, sending it all the way