Alejandro's Sorceress(4)

 


 
CHAPTER 3
Alejandro turned the standard-issue sedan right on Wildflower Lane, mentally running through a checklist of the equipment and ammo in the trunk. He and Mac were loaded for bear--or basilisk, to be precise--and yet he still wondered why the regional office in Columbus had assigned two rookie field officers to handle something so incredibly dangerous. He said as much to Mac.
“They know we can handle it,” Mac said confidently. Alejandro’s partner stared out the window at the tree-lined street with its immaculate lawns and careful landscaping. “It’s like a different planet, isn’t it?”
Alejandro made a noncommittal noise. Mac had grown up in Vegas, so he was used to desert scenery. Alejandro had been born and raised in a remote village in Guatemala, isolated by vampires from technology or progress, so every place he went in the U.S. felt like a different planet. The computer lab at the academy had been a wondrous revelation, and he’d spent all of his spare time catching up to his American classmates.
Except in weapons training and vampire tactics classes. There, most of his classmates had been forced to work hard to catch up to him.
“That’s it. 8121 Wildflower Lane,” Mac said. “The one set back from the street.”
Alejandro pulled in to the driveway while he automatically scanned the area for danger or signs of disturbances.
“Seems like a basilisk would have done more damage,” he said. “Or there’d at least be a lot of running and screaming.”
“Maybe it ate everyone and moved on,” Mac suggested, grinning. “We can go get some lunch and then take the rest of the day off.”
Alejandro rolled his eyes. “We’d still have to spend all afternoon writing up the paperwork.”
P-Ops was as bad as its parent agency, the FBI, when it came to paperwork. Alejandro’s typing was slow, and working on the many reports that came with the job was his least favorite part of his new career. Probably always would be.
They got out of the car and looked around. Alejandro had only taken a single step toward the front door of the small house when a woman who looked like sunshine walked out, and his entire world shifted on its axis.
She wasn’t beautiful or even conventionally pretty, and he wasn’t even sure what it was about her that had knocked him on his figurative ass. This woman—she was somehow unique. Her hair was a silky fall of golden blond, but her athletic figure was neither model-thin nor lusciously curved. Her face was captivating, though—something about the combination of her individual features packed a punch right to his gut. Maybe her lips, or the strength in her bone structure. Maybe her eyes.
Her eyes.
They were so blue that he almost couldn’t believe they were real, and they were snapping with fire, impatience, or annoyance. He couldn’t decipher her emotion from her eyes alone—hell, he was lucky if he ever understood anything about women--but something about her made him want to spend hours trying.
It took him another beat to realize that her lips were pressed together in a firm line. When she put her hands on her hips—gently rounded hips that clearly had been made for a man to hold--even he, blinded by the most immediate case of raging lust he’d ever felt, could see that she was angry about something.
He tried to focus on the job. He told himself that she’d probably have a terrible personality. He reminded himself that she was a witch, and then it hit him. She projected a sense of power—a feeling of barely leashed magic—that somehow had transformed her into the most fascinating woman he’d ever seen. Maybe it was a spell? She was a witch, after all, and he had never reacted like this before.
His libido didn’t care about the why. It just wanted to get her naked, which was damn stupid under the circumstances and therefore made him suspicious.
“So. You must be the P-Ops guys. Let me guess; you’re from the government and you’re here to help?” Sarcasm and something else, maybe annoyance, coated her words, but her voice was musical and so sexy that he wanted to hear her talk all night long.
Well. Maybe not all night.
She was breathing hard, and Alejandro tried not to notice the way her breasts pressed against her shirt. He was a professional agent, damn it, not a horny kid. He fumbled for his badge, but Mac beat him to it.
Mac moved around the car, holding out his hand. “Mac Henson and Alejandro Vasquez, ma’am. You have a basilisk problem?”
Right. The basilisk. Alejandro snapped into action and opened the trunk of the car. He pulled out a shotgun, extra ammo, and a helmet with a darkened visor to protect himself from the basilisk’s deadly gaze.#p#分页标题#e#