“You forget, he’s a sedate old vampire,” I said, my grin growing, but nowhere near as much as the pleasure blooming deep inside as his fingers came to rest on my hip. “And you know what old people are like when it comes to their comforts.”
One dark eyebrow rose, and the depths of his eyes sparkled with warmth and love. “So I’m sedate and old, am I?”
He moved quickly, his body a blur, and before I knew it, I was being thrown up and over his shoulder. Luckily for me, he swung around so my head didn’t smash against the fridge door. But with my nose buried in the middle of his back and his scent filling each breath, some of this morning’s sadness washed away.
I had this.
I had him.
Life wasn’t so bad, no matter what had happened.
“I think,” he added heavily, “the pup needs another lesson on being polite to her elders.”
“You know she doesn’t like to learn,” Liander commented. “She’s stubborn like that.”
“Hey, I bought you breakfast,” I protested. “You should have the decency to forgo the insults—at least for now.”
“The croissants are gone, so I’m officially free to insult.” Liander moved aside to let Quinn through, and I took a swipe at him as we passed—which he avoided with a laugh.
As the kitchen floor became the living room carpet, I said, “I thought you had a very important meeting with the real estate people?”
“Letting real estate people know you’re eager for a property is never a good idea,” Quinn said easily.
“They’ll wait.”
“Well, good.” Although I wished he’d tip me the right way up. Having my nose stuck in his back was far from unpleasant, but being upside down and bounced around like a sack of potatoes as he strode toward the bathroom wasn’t much fun.
“If you wanted to be right way up,” he said, obviously following my thoughts, “you wouldn’t have made snarky remarks about my age.”
“And I would have thought that one of the four oldest vampires in the country would have learned to take insults by now.”
“He has, except when it’s more fun to do otherwise. Prepare to be ravished by your ancient but extremely fit lover, my dear.”
“Oh, I’m prepared.” More than prepared, really.
But of course, my cell phone chose that moment to ring. I was tempted to ignore it, but the ring tone said it was Jack, and he never phoned just to chat.
Quinn put me down without being asked. With a frustrated sigh, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and answered it. “Hi, Jack.”
Quinn kissed the top of my head, then continued on into the bathroom. I leaned against the door frame and watched—frustration growing—as he turned on the shower taps then stripped off his sweaty running clothes, revealing the long, lean lines of his body.
Lovely was the first word that came to mind. He reminded me of an athlete—not a bodybuilder or a runner, but sitting comfortably in between the two. His was a body to run your fingers over time and again. As I had—each time delighting in the silky smoothness of his skin and the play of muscle beneath it. And I really wanted to be doing it again this morning.
Damn Jack and his timing.
“Riley, are you even listening to me?” Jack said, sounding a little exasperated.
I briefly thought about lying, but I knew from past experience he’d ask me to recite back his words—and then get even madder when I couldn’t. “Sorry, momentarily distracted.”
“I won’t ask by what, because I probably wouldn’t want to know.” His voice was dry. “We found the Toyota the victim’s soul mentioned. It was abandoned in Keilor. Apparently the owner didn’t even know it was missing. A sharp-eyed citizen reported two men leaving the vehicle.”
“Two? Our soul only mentioned one.”
“He might have only seen one, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t someone else there.”True, but I’d also only smelled the one. Or had the smell of vengeance been so thick and ripe that it had overwhelmed all other scents?
“Has Cole had a chance to check it out yet?”
“Dusty’s there now. He’s found a partial print that didn’t match the one the police have listed in their database for the owner.”
Meaning the owner had a record. “And do you have a matching listing for the print?”
“Yep. It belongs to one Hank Surrey, a vamp who turned fifty-five years ago.”
I watched as Quinn stepped into the shower and closed the glass door. The fierce desire to just hang up, strip, and step in beside him swept through me. I swallowed and tried to quell the trembling in my limbs, but it took all the control I had not to follow that urge.
“Have we got a recent address listed for him?” Even as I asked the question, I had my fingers crossed that we didn’t.
But fate, as usual, wasn’t giving me even the tiniest of breaks.
“We have him in Mt. Martha, although the last check on his location was done almost a year ago.”
Mt. Martha was a well-to-do suburb down on the peninsula that catered primarily to families. It wasn’t the sort of place where you usually found vamps—young or old. They tended to stick closer to the city, where feeding was a whole lot easier—especially with the advent of the blood whore clubs.
I said as much to Jack.
“Well, they have a cracking little golf course down there,” he said, “and they’ve installed night lights for those of us who can’t beat the little white ball through the grass during the day.”
My eyebrows rose. Jack was a golfer. Who’d have thought? “I wouldn’t think a vamp who resorts to stealing cars would be too interested in golf or clubs.” Unless he intended to steal the golf clubs.
“Hey, everyone has to have a hobby. I’ll send his address through to your onboard.”
In other words, leave immediately. I blew out a frustrated breath, then said, “Heading out now.”
“Report in if you find him,” Jack said, then hung up.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and wasted a few minutes watching the soap trail down the wet planes of Quinn’s back.
“I have to go,” I said, mentally shaking away the images of what I’d rather be doing. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
I wanted to go in and kiss him good-bye, but I wasn’t sure if I could handle that sort of closeness and still walk away.
“Call me when you finish,” he said, turning around and blowing me a kiss. Obviously, he was still following my thoughts. “We’ll grab either lunch or dinner, depending on the time.”
“It’s a deal.”
And I walked out while I still had some resolve left.
* * *
I glanced into the rearview mirror as I pulled onto the Citylink tollway and my pulse leapt. Several cars behind me was a red car. Same make, same model as the one that had been following me only hours before.
I watched it for several minutes, wondering again if I was merely imagining it. I mean, everyone knew that red cars traveled in packs—see one, and you see at least three.
And red was an extremely popular color.
But the same red Mazda sitting three cars behind me twice in as many hours? That was a little bit too much of a coincidence.
I switched on the com-link and said, “Sal, I think I’m being followed by that little old lady again.”
She laughed. “You’ve obviously pissed off said little old lady. Which wouldn’t be hard, given you do the whole pissing-people-off thing so well.”
“Except I haven’t been near any little old ladies of late. You want to see whether this one is missing her car yet or not?”
“On it now.” Silence fell, and I kept half an eye on the annoying red Mazda. It retained the distance between us, sitting right on the edge of keeping me in sight and losing me altogether.
“Okay,” Sal said. “The little old lady has been contacted and is mighty annoyed that I woke her so early. She reckons her nephew has borrowed the car for the week.”
“Have we got a license photo and address for the nephew?”
“Requesting that now, as well as doing a search through the data banks. I’ll send anything I get through to your onboard.”
“Send me the photo immediately. I’m going to try and corner my follower.”
“Will do.” She hesitated, and in the background I heard Jack muttering something. “The boss says be careful, and don’t delay too long in getting out to our suspect’s place.”
I wanted to ask why the hell it mattered when the vamp had turned only fifty-five years ago and wouldn’t be going anywhere until the sun went down. Vamps had to be at least several hundred years old before they could start tolerating the touch of the sun. Hell, Jack was over eight hundred years old, and even he could only go out in the early hours of the morning and the late evening.
But I knew why he wanted me there ASAP. Our suspect would be easier to catch, easier to handle, now. This was Jack’s version of mollycoddling me.
So I simply said, “I’ll be in touch.”
Jack’s voice rolled through the background again, then Sal said, “He says to keep the com-link open so we can hear what is going on, but we both know that won’t happen.”
I grinned but did as requested, although I did cut their ability to talk to me. I didn’t need Jack or Sal buzzing in my ear if things got nasty.