Predatory (Immortal Guardians #3.5)(67)

Richart had only been looking for an excuse, so . . . he had followed Sheldon’s advice and asked her where to find the Krazy Glue. Soon they had worked up to chatting like old friends and having coffee together whenever he managed to time his visits with her breaks.

“How’s John?” he asked.

As expected, her face lit with pride at the mention of her son. “He just aced another exam.”

“Excellent.”

She clearly adored John, whom she had borne when she was a mere seventeen years old.

An employee walked past and waved. “I’m out, Jenna.”

“’Night, Tracy.”

“Enjoy your night off tomorrow,” Tracy called over her shoulder.

Richart turned back to Jenna and arched a brow. “You have tomorrow night off?”

She nodded. “I’m glad it wasn’t tonight. Being sick on my night off would have really sucked.”

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Just tell her to have fun and get some rest. Keep it casual. “Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask if I might cook dinner for you tomorrow night? Something mild that won’t upset your stomach further?” Imbécile.

She blinked. “Really?”

“Yes. I could pick up the ingredients and cook them at your place so, if you still aren’t feeling well, you won’t have to go out or dress up and can lounge around in . . .” Hell. What did women wear when they were just hanging around the house? His sister always sported combat gear and weapons.

“Yoga pants and a tank top?” she suggested.

He had no idea what yoga pants were, but had to struggle to keep his body from responding to the mental image of Jenna in a tank top. “Perfect.”

She bit her lip.

“Not perfect?”

“There’s just one thing,” she broached with reluctance. “John works until nine tomorrow night and I don’t think he’s planning to meet with his study group, so he’ll probably be home by ten. I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable . . . pursuing anything”—her cheeks filled with a pretty pink—“amorous with him home or expected home any minute.”

He smiled. “I assure you such was not my intention.”

“Oh.” The pink deepened. “Embarrassing. I’m sorry. I was the one being presumptuous. I didn’t—”

He touched her shoulder. “I meant such was not my intention while you feel unwell.”

“Oh,” she repeated, then sent him a shy smile.

“I have a confession to make, Jenna,” he said, defying caution. “Normally, I rarely patronize this store.”

“You’ve been in here at least every other night for the past month.”

He nodded. “Yes. Because, once I met you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

She smiled, all awkwardness falling away. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Me, too,” she admitted. “It’s funny. The first night you came in, I had the strangest feeling that I knew you.”

Chier. Somewhere in her subconscious she must remember the night he had rescued her. But that time should be nothing but a black void. She should have no memory of it at all, not even enough to make her think she had seen him before.

“You did?” he asked as casually as he could.

She nodded. “I wanted to ask you if we’d met, but was afraid you might think it was a pickup line or something.”

“Ah.” Smooth.

“Have we met?” she persisted, face curious. “The feeling was so strong.”

“I’m sure I would remember if we had.” Not a lie, but misleading.

She nodded, brow faintly furrowed. “Yeah, me too.”

Richart’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Drawing it out, he glanced down to note the caller: Chris Reordon, the mortal in charge of the East Coast division of the human network that aided Immortal Guardians.

Richart gave Jenna’s shoulder another light touch. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

She nodded.

“Yes?” Richart answered.

“I just received a call from a woman in distress,” Chris said without preamble. “All she had time to do is say, ‘Oh, crap’ and drop the phone before vampires attacked and gunshots sounded.”

“Could you tell how many there were?”

“No. But, judging by the sounds of it, a hell of a lot. Étienne is at UNC Chapel Hill near Kenan Stadium. I need you to teleport to him and be ready to go as soon as I track down where she is.”

Richart walked a couple of paces away. “Could it be Tracy?” Tracy was his sister Lisette’s Second, and 9mms were her weapons of choice.

“It isn’t Tracy. I would have recognized her voice.”

Relief rushed through him.

“We’re tracing the call now,” Chris continued, “and should have a location by the time you rendezvous with Étienne. If it’s a place you know, teleport directly to the location and join the fight. If it isn’t, Étienne has his car with him and will get the two of you there as fast as he can.”

“I’m on my way.” Tucking his phone away, Richart turned back to Jenna. “Looks like I spoke too soon. It won’t be a quiet night after all. A problem has arisen that requires my immediate attention.”