The Way You Bite(25)

“Sweet Jesus.” He was struck dumb. And he wasn’t a werewolf who got stupid very often.

The scent of her arousal hit him with a jolt. He closed his eyes to block out the view down her shirt and released her.

She stepped away but didn’t drop her gaze from his. Her pink tongue moistened her lips.

“This is insane,” she mumbled. She lit a match, tossed it through an open window, and jumped away. It went out before it hit the car.

He suppressed a chuckle.

He got a glare from her before she lit a second match. This time she got closer before she dropped the lit match and hopped away from the car. It grew into a small blaze.

“Great.” She grabbed her backpack. “The best plan is for you two to go your way and I’ll go mine. I think Eric agrees.”

“Wait, we should talk.” Shit, he hadn’t brought up the real issue.

“We’re done. Stop following me.” She waved at Eric, pulled her long sleeves down over her hands, and took off, walking away from both of them.

“What was that about?” Eric asked as they both watched her walk around the warehouse and out of sight.

“She’s up to something. This wasn’t something she concocted in the past hour. This took planning.”

“You’ve got that meeting with Ambrose in twenty minutes. We need to head out.”

Gut instinct advised he not leave her, but he couldn’t reschedule Ambrose. Now he was more curious than ever to discover what was going on between Vee and her fiancé. “Put TC back on surveillance duty.”

…

Vee had forgotten her passport. She’d taken it out to enter the number for a connecting flight to Paris and left it on the kitchen counter. She wasn’t used to needing human ID, but for a flight she needed to blend. A quick trip back to her apartment wasn’t ideal, but unavoidable.

The almost setting sun and low light reduced the risk of sunburn. Still, she kept her sleeves pulled over her hands and her hat angled over her face. Her head throbbed with each step as she neared her apartment building on foot. The need for sustenance had become imperative. No blood upstairs, but she could have another Pepsi.

Just as she reached to type in the door code, she heard a throat clear behind her.

She whirled. Her head spun, causing her to wobble backward until she hit the door. A wolf stood a few feet from her. In her haste, she’d forgotten to scan before venturing to the front door.

Stupid.

“I don’t recommend you go inside, Dr. Scarpa.” Between the guy’s piercings and the unnerving way he stared, she deduced he might be one of Lexan’s guards. If not, Lexan should consider hiring the guy. He had intimidation down to an art form.

“Who are you?”

“TC.” His concentration turned to the building. He cocked his head as if listening. Several seconds later he continued, “Lexan better be sure about you, because I’m about to save your ass.”





Chapter Nine


Lexan reclined on the stiff overstuffed chair of the downtown coffeehouse and sipped a chai latte. The mixture was too sweet. What was it about Americans and their obsession with sugar?

The only reason he was taking this meeting with Ambrose was out of respect for the European peace treaty with Viktor and the rest of the DiFalco royals. Ironic, since they weren’t actually at peace.

Ambrose claimed the loveseat opposite, sitting slowly with perfect posture. He shifted away from a dusk sunbeam, twisted the window blinds closed, and put on his dark glasses. The sun wouldn’t kill a vamp of his age unless he was left naked and starving in it for several days, but he would find its heat uncomfortable. Vamps hid their vulnerability, but they were far more delicate than they cared to admit.

They nodded at each other in greeting.

Ambrose folded his hands in his lap. “I’m offended you didn’t let me know you would be in the country.”

“You look…the same, Ambrose. It has been many years since we’ve spoken. I hope all is well for you.” The leather of Lexan’s black jacket creaked in protest as he folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t trust this vamp. Ambrose might dabble in politics, but the narcissistic kid sucked at diplomacy and did whatever the hell he wanted. Although two centuries old, Ambrose remained a child in comparison to Lexan’s age. Ambrose had witnessed when Lexan attacked Vee’s grandfather, Mercutio, during the War. He had been a teenager, barely thirteen or fourteen, hiding behind his father, Viktor.

Ambrose’s eyes narrowed. “Everything was fine until I found out where you were last night.” He paused.

Lexan didn’t give him the gratification of replying.

Ambrose’s eyes narrowed. “What is the purpose of your visit in the States?”

Lexan leaned back, maintaining a mask of cool calm, and shrugged. He didn’t answer to any vampire. He had bypassed protocol to approach Vee. The old rules directed he contact Ambrose before confronting his betrothed. But this was about her life being at risk. One of those risks would be Ambrose when he knew the truth of her genetics.

The vampire leaned forward and spoke harshly, “I will put myself in your way if you involve her.”

Something possessive and lethal whipped through Lexan, shifting Ambrose from neutral political contact into the enemy category. “To which her do you refer?”