Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(38)

She made an impatient sound. “Oh, come on. Don’t be such an ingenue! They’re smeared all over your life. All you have to do is look. And if I looked, you can damn well be sure that they looked. It was all out there, for anyone to see. And I’m not even that good at it!se I wouldan>

He gave her such a grim look, she started to twitch. “Stop it, Bruno,” she pleaded. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What else do you know?” he asked. “How’s the ratio of good to bad cholesterol on my last blood work? Do you think my tax deductions last year were justifiable? Did you read my text messages?”

She sighed. “You haven’t done a damn thing to prevent me.”

“It never occurred to me that anyone would be interested!”

“Come on,” Lily pleaded. “You can’t stay mad.”

“Watch me.” His voice was hard.

“I already apologized, remember? For five future piss-offs?” she wheedled. “That leaves me four free ones.”

“No way,” he said sourly. “Spying counts for two. Maybe more.”

“That’s not fair! I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t—”

He put his finger to her lips. “Shut up. I have to concentrate hard to remember this number without the use of my electronic brain extensions, and I can’t do it when I’m pissed off. So zip it.”

“That’s sad,” she commented as soon as he lifted his hand. “Brain atrophy, and so young, too. There are things you can do for that, you know. Math problems, crossword puzzles.”

He turned back to the phone. “You are now down by four. I’m dialing. We’ll find someplace safe to exchange verbal barbs after, OK?”

Police sirens wailed in the distance, from the direction from which they had come. Bruno looked around, staring toward the sound.

“Looks like they found our buddies,” he said.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered.

“I’m working on it,” he grumbled. “Stop bugging me.”

He turned to the phone. His back was so broad, so graceful. She stared at the expanse of fine black leather draped between his big powerful shoulders. Turning his back on her was probably meant to be a snub, but in her current boggled state, it felt like an invitation.

She leaned against his back. He stiffened at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. It felt good. She breathed in, leaning closer, pressing against his strength. Sucking it in. Vampire girl, glomming on to him.

A thought took form in her head. She should let it float away. She didn’t have the energy for data processing, particularly emotional stuff. But she followed it, letting it make connections, take on coherence.

About Bruno. It felt so right, the way they bopped each other around, bitching and snarking. Being with him was almost, well . . . fun.

How kinky was that. After that attack, the near-death experience, the blood. “Fun” was not a word one would usually associate with that type of adventure. She wondered if it was a conscious strategy, on his part, to keep her from falling to pieces. If he really was that smart, that intuitive, to figure her out so quickly, manage her so smoothly.

Or if it was just a random coincidence.

She huddled closer, not even bothering to eavesdrop on his whispered phone conversation. She wouldn’t have made any sense of it anyhow. Not in brainless clinging leech mode.

She didn’t want an answer to her half-formed question. Any answer would be disturbing, and she was disturbed enough.

Bruno was not her ally, shoulder to shoulder with her against the powers of darkness. No. He was helping out the poor sad crazy girl because he felt sorry for her. Pity did not an ally make. Neither did sex. Not even awesome, earth-shattering, mindblowing sex.

She knew that. She really did. But even so. She pressed her nose against his vibrant warmth and inhaled. Mmmm. So nice.

What the hell. She was obscurely comforted anyway.





9


Reggie stared at the corpses. The team he’d sent to intercept Parr and Ranieri lay on the ground amid the garbage. Multiple witnesses milled around, talking excitedly into their cell phones. Cops were on the way, to catalog his error, put it on public record.

He was f*cked. He pushed away the staggering finality of it, used DeepWeave Contingency 5.5.2 to calm and focus him, but the effects were muted. He knew what he was supposed to be doing, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, paralyzed. Staring at the lifeless chunks of meat that had once been Martin, Tom, and Cal.

Cal had been from his family training pod. Like Nadia. A brother to him. Tom and Martin were younger, but Reggie studied with them both, sparred with them, worked with them ever since they’d been initiated as operatives. They were gifted with abilities normal people would take for superpowers. Now they were wasted. Bruno Ranieri had butchered them, and that sneaky little cunt Lily Parr along with him.

He wished that Nadia had shot them, but he’d told her to bail, rather than risk her dying, too. They hadn’t been prepared for Ranieri’s prowess. Nadia was good, but she would not have prevailed if Tom, Cal, and Martin had all fallen, not unless she’d used a firearm, and King had said explicitly not to kill them yet. Reggie stared at the bodies. So angry he could not control the shaking. Contingency 5.5.2 wasn’t working.

Police sirens wailed in the distance. They were going to find him here, demand a statement, explanation, identification. He could not stay. Too late for damage control. He should spirit away the bodies, but blood was spattered everywhere, he had no idea whose. What an unspeakable mess. Someone would have to stretch out on the altar of responsibility and watch the knife plunge down. Guess who.