vampire was on the premises and Alcuin had chosen not to engage the outsider.
“That doesn’t sound like the Alcuin I know,” Zane pondered out loud.
“He didn’t say so, but I think he was afraid of the new bloodsucker.” Michael looked guilty even suggesting such heresy. “He said that the out-of-town vamp was in the ultra-ancient vampire category. Alcuin is old, but not ancient according to vampire history.”
For several very obvious reasons, the whole conversation bugged me. I felt as guilty as the young werewolf looked over sharing Alcuin’s secret fears. I hadn’t told anyone about my most recent vampire rendezvous during the reception, nor had I bothered mentioning the possibility of sharing my blood with that same, ultra-ancient vamp in Vegas. Zane wouldn’t be happy to hear any of it.
Now wasn’t the time to reveal my Valamir encounters, not with another looming secret so near.
“You okay, Princess?” Zane reached across the table and slid his hand over mine.
Just his touch provoked a myriad of emotions: Love, lust, guilt, fear — a not so nice combination. I’d tell him the truth the minute I returned from my little fact-finding mission. I could blame my behavior on my parents and my desire to make things right with them.
“I’m okay.” I heard myself lie. “Mind if I take a nap?” If I stayed with him another second, I was going to blurt out all my secrets, damn the consequences.
He squeezed my hand. “Sleep tight, babe.”
“Sleep tight.” Michael smiled, weary.
Not tired at all, I tried to read. Something I’d loved doing pre-Zane. Now, with my life as exciting and scary as a bestseller, it was difficult to focus on an author’s fictional world.
Tossing the paperback onto the dresser, I paced our small bedroom.
The guys had stepped outside to greet Mack. I assumed Alcuin wouldn’t be too far behind. If they stuck to their typical pattern, they’d gather around the table and compare their findings, searching for common themes and suspects.
Zane had mentioned that Rita was working to decode the sigils on the coins. We still needed to find the fourth. Four murders, four coins. Where was my cloaked helper when I needed him?
Chloe, are you there? It’s me, Stryder.
What now? Other than Zane, no one had ever sought me out telepathically. How was Stryder able to make the connection with such ease?
I’m here. How did you …
I just focused my thoughts on you and kept repeating my question.
Maybe our unexpected link was the result of my hijacking him at the trailer park. I’d pretty much possessed his mind and all his senses. Yet another reminder that my powers were developing in ways I’d never expected. Making me wish, for the trillionth time, that someone who could explain my gift would appear and offer their wise council.
I decided to use this latest mental enhancement to my benefit. Perhaps I could persuade Styder to join our cause. I’d try keeping the conversation casual for starters, build a rapport.
Wow! This is kind of new for me. Are the guys treating you all right? all right? Focus on his well being, a perfect opening.
As good as can be expected. Better than we’d have treated them, or you.
I didn’t have time now to contemplate the implications of that statement. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
That’s good. I want you to be comfortable. What’s your friend’s name?
I heard him grumble under his breath. Tom.
Tom? Geeze, how exotic? Tom , the matted mutant.
Like you, we don’t choose our names.
I laughed. I think you’ve got a sense of humor under all that fur and those sharp teeth.
Come look at me now. I’m all man.
Oh, boy! I wasn’t walking down that conversation path. Speaking of man, is Tom’s hair as tangled as his fur?
It’s in dreadlocks.
That makes sense. I guess.
Not my style, but it suits him. You know, you don’t need to waste your time on small talk. I know what you want.
You do? I guessed he did. I wasn’t the best at casual chit chat, and now I’d proven counseling wasn’t my next best career option.
It doesn’t take a PHD to figure out what you’re up to. You want to be the welcome committee so I’ll join your little team of supernatural misfits.
Misfits! That wasn’t very nice. What are you? Wait. I know. You’re the misfits’ prisoner.
I didn’t think he was going to answer, but I refused to apologize for my barb.
You win. I’m more of a misfit than most. I don’t follow the rules very well, especially when I don’t agree