Guilty Pleasures(17)

"Stop calling me that. What is it exactly that you want from me?"

"I believe Willie McCoy told you what we wanted."

"You want to hire me to check into the vampire murders?"

"Exactly."

"This," I motioned to Catherine's blank face, "was hardly necessary. You could have beaten me up, threatened my life, offered me more money. You could have done a lot of things before you did this."

He smiled, lips tight. "All that would have taken time. And let us be truthful. In the end you would still have refused us."

"Maybe."

"This way, you have no choice."

He had a point. "Okay, I'm on the case. Satisfied?"

"Very," Jean-Claude said, his voice very soft. "What of your friend?"

"I want her to go home in a cab. And I want some guarantees that old long-fang isn't going to kill her anyway."

Aubrey laughed, a rich sound that ended in a hysterical hissing. He was bent over, shaking with laughter. "Long-fang, I like that."

Jean-Claude glanced at the laughing vampire and said, "I will give you my word that she will not be harmed if you help us."

"No offense, but that's not enough."

"You doubt my word." His voice growled low and warm, angry.

"No, but you don't hold Aubrey's leash. Unless he answers to you you can't guarantee his behavior."

Aubrey's laughter had softened to a few faint giggles. I had never heard a vampire giggle before. It wasn't a pleasant sound. The laughter died completely, and he straightened. "No one holds my leash, girl. I am my own master."

"Oh, get real. If you were over five hundred years old, and a master vampire, you'd have cleaned up the stage with me. As it was" - I flattened my hands palms up - "you didn't, which means you're very old but not your own master."

He growled low in his throat, face darkening with anger. "How dare you?"

"Think, Aubrey, she judged your age within fifty years. You are not a master vampire, and she knew that. We need her."

"She needs to learn some humility." He stalked towards me, body rigid with anger, hands clenching and unclenching in the air.

Jean-Claude stepped between us. "Nikolaos is expecting us to bring her, unharmed."

Aubrey hesitated. He snarled; his jaws snapped on empty air. The smack of his teeth biting together was a dull, angry sound.

They stared at each other. I could feel their wills straining through the air, like a distant wind. It made the skin at the back of my neck crawl. It was Aubrey who looked away, with an angry graceful blink. "I will not anger, my master." He emphasized "my," making it clear that Jean-Claude was not "his" master.

I swallowed hard twice, and it sounded loud. If they wanted me scared, they were doing a hell of a job. "Who is Nikolaos'?"

Jean-Claude turned to look at me, his face calm and beautiful. "That question is not ours to answer."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He smiled, lips curling carefully so no fang showed. "Let us put your friend in a cab, out of harm's way."

"What of Monica?"

He grinned then, fangs showing; he looked genuinely amused. "Are you worried for her safety?"