“How sharp are those things?” She leaned over the back of the seats to get a better look and stretched a hand toward Cage’s face. He caught her wrist in his grasp, forcing it toward his mouth slowly as she tried to pull it away, his gaze fixing her like a butterfly on a pinboard.
Damn, but he was strong. She wondered what it would feel like if he punctured her finger. She relaxed the muscles in her arm. Do it, vampire.
“Stop that, you two. Seriously.” Nik gave her another dirty look and held out his hand to Cage. “Let’s see what I can pull from your past—although I have to tell you I don’t hold hands with just anyone on the first date.”
“And there won’t be a second, mate. I think we both play for the other team.” He slid his gaze to Robin and gave her a slow smile, sans fang, before grasping Nik’s hand.
Nik closed his eyes and lowered his head, concentrating. Good sign. Robin had never seen him strain to capture the images; they either came or they didn’t.
“Are you trying to block me?” Nik dropped Cage’s hand and looked at him with such relief that it made Robin want to dance.
Cage shook his head. “Negative. And believe me, I’ve had at least sixty years of deplorable behavior you could be enjoying vicariously right now.”
“Oh, thank God. I was praying for this.” Nik took a deep breath and released it. “To go way back to your question before Robin hijacked the conversation, I took this assignment hoping I couldn’t get images off vampires. You’re an even bigger blank than shifters. It’s just . . . peaceful.”
“Maybe you can find a nice vampire girl. Do vampire girls have sex with human boys?” Robin opened the car door and took in a lungful of clean night air. She sure didn’t miss the pollution of the city or the scent of exhaust fumes. It smelled like an open bottle of pine cleaner out here, only fresher, without the chemicals.
Cage and Nik followed her out, and Nik went to the hatch to retrieve his duffel bag.
Robin stood with her eyes closed, taking in the feel of the cool air, the scents, the chirping of crickets and frogs.
“Do shifter girls have sex with vampire boys, little bird?”
She jolted back to awareness at the feeling of Cage standing close behind her, speaking so softly she doubted Nik could hear. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, tingling her fingertips and scalp, and her heart took off at a gallop. The heat from his body seeped into her back through her thin top. Why had she assumed vampires would have cold skin? Too many bad movies.
“What’s between you and Nik anyway?” Again that soft voice. He wasn’t touching her anywhere, but he was close, so very close.
“He’s my best friend.” Robin swallowed hard, stepped away from Cage, and turned to face him.
“And she’s one of mine, even if she does have a big mouth, the manners of a guttersnipe, and an utter lack of willingness to observe social niceties. So don’t even think about hurting her.” Nik handed her a white plastic bag and hefted his duffel over his shoulder. “I picked up some clothes for you when I stopped for lunch in Mobile. They might not fit, but I wasn’t sure you’d be able to find anything here. They’ll last a day or two.”
Robin laughed. “I was going to see if I could borrow something from—what’s her name, Hannah?”
“Oh, that would be interesting.” Cage crossed his arms over his chest. “Hannah’s style is, well, let’s say it lies somewhere between Hello Kitty and Sesame Street.”
Nik made a grab for the bag. “Give me back the clothes. I want to see you in something fuzzy and pink.”
“Forget it.” Robin tucked the bag under her arm and started toward the house. “Who all is going to be living here with us?”
Cage and Nik followed her up the sidewalk and onto the porch, and Cage knocked on the front door. “Among others, your favorite sparring partner.”
The door opened and almost seven feet of vampire blocked the light from inside. “Well, if it isn’t Zorba and the little lost girl. What’s your sorority name—I Ate-a Pie?”
Robin opened her mouth to respond, but shut it when Nik rested a hand on the back of her neck and tickled her. “Not fair,” she mumbled. How could you get a good temper brewing if someone was tickling you?
It might not happen now, but soon, someone needed to knock down that big oaf Mirren Kincaid—again. And she knew just the sorority girl to do it.
CHAPTER 9
Frank Greisser arrived at the hotel in Innsbruck five minutes before midnight, the collar of his long black raincoat pulled up to ward off the cold drizzle, a black hat hiding the blond curls that made him look more like a thirtysomething playboy than the most powerful man in the vast world of vampire politics.