Angels' Flight(32)

Marco’s eyes twinkled. “The big ones want to pit themselves against him, and the pretty ones want to take him home and give him a whip.”

Deacon’s face remained expressionless, but his green eyes held a distinct warning. Laughing, she got into the act and stroked his cheek as she left. His stubble made her fingertips want to go exploring, but she strolled to the bathroom instead, getting several approving looks from the crowd.

It wasn’t her fault she got distracted by a conversation with another hunter and ended up at a door that didn’t lead to the toilets. Unfortunately, it was locked solid and coded with a touchpad. Hiding her disappointment, she made a point of asking for bathroom directions again and went in to use the facilities before returning to the table.

“Get lost?” Deacon asked before Marco could.

“Yeah.” She laughed. “Someone dragged me off to ask if you really were as hard as you looked.”

Deacon flushed. “Keep going.”

She knew it was another warning. But the byplay had the effect of disarming any suspicions Marco might’ve had. He laughed and said a few more words before getting up to go mingle.

Deacon didn’t look particularly happy, but waited to speak until they were on the bike heading back to the hotel. “You didn’t make it to his apartment.”

“No need.” She grinned. “He crosses his leg like guys do.”

Silence.

She took pity on him. “You know, one ankle over the knee, encroaching on other people’s space.”

“You got a transmitter on his shoe.”

“When I asked to go to the bathroom.” She felt exceedingly smug about that. “And that’s not even the best part—he was wearing solid hunter boots.” Increasing the odds that he’d use the same footwear if he decided to go out killing.

“My guess—the killer’s not going to move tonight. Not after Rodney.”

“Won’t he be frustrated by the fact that he failed?”

“Possible, but this guy’s not stupid. He does his homework, strikes only when he knows his prey will be vulnerable.”

“If you had more people, you could put watches on both Tim and Marco, and, if necessary, Shah.”

“Ever tried following a hunter who doesn’t want to be followed?”

“Point taken.”

She thought of the three they’d visited. “Did you ask Simon to run background checks?”

“Might already have come through.”

He was right. He pulled out and turned on a PDA that looked as tough as he was as soon as they got back to the hotel—all three reports were waiting in his e-mail.

“Pretty standard stuff,” Sara said, as she lay flat on her back on the bed with the PDA in her hands. “Timothy had a hunt go bad, hasn’t been seen in public since, but we know he’s alive. Shah really is a spy. Doesn’t mean he isn’t a killer.”

“Gut instinct?”

“That if Shah was going to kill, he’d do it in a way no one would ever trace back to him.” She looked at the last page. “Marco is a solid hunter with a stable personal life—he’s playing happy families with a vampire, so he clearly likes them.”

“You ever been tempted?” The bed dipped as Deacon braced a knee on the bottom edge and looked down at her.





5


Her mouth went dry. “Tempted?”

“To take up with a vamp?”

Oh. “Sure, they’re gorgeous.” But not real, not like Deacon. “Don’t tell me you don’t agree.”

“The whole bloodsucking thing’s kind of a turnoff.”

“Yeah, that trips me up, too. I don’t want my partner thinking of me as a midnight snack.” She switched off the PDA and laid it carefully on the small chest of drawers beside the bed. “Have you ever had a vamp feed on you?”

A shake of the head, his eyes lingering on her lips. “You?”

“Emergency feed,” she said, suddenly hot in the T-shirt and jeans that had been fine moments before. “The guy was so badly off, I had to do something.”

“Hurt?” Those night-shadow green eyes were drifting over the rise of her breasts, the dip of her stomach.

She breathed deep, saw him suck in his own breath at the movement of her chest. “Not as much as you’d expect. They have something in their saliva that takes the edge off.” Stretching out her legs, she raised her arms above her head. “And you know they can make it feel good if they want.”

He didn’t answer, his attention very much on her body as she relaxed from the stretch. Then he moved onto the bed, bracing himself above her using his forearms. “Yes?”

A simple question—one that made her pause and think. Hunters weren’t prudes, but Sara had never had a one-night stand. It simply wasn’t in her. Yet she’d wanted Deacon from the instant she’d seen him. And from the arousal he was making no effort to hide, she knew full well he wanted her, too.

But they weren’t just two hunters who’d met on the road. “Are you going to get all weird after?”

“Define ‘weird.’” He settled himself more firmly against her.

She bit back a moan. The man was hot, hard, and more than ready. “I need you to follow orders if I become director.” Her former lovers wouldn’t hesitate, because she hadn’t been a candidate for the critically important position then. But now she was very much a candidate. “Are you going to expect special treatment?”