Unfortunately, that meant he couldn't explain the situation to her. Not that Nicholas had it in him to tell her the truth anyway. He had no desire to see the horror and disgust enter her eyes when she learned what he'd done fifty years ago. If she even believed him and didn't simply decide he was spaced out on drugs or just plain crazy. After all, he didn't look like he could have been around for fifty years, and explaining the whole I'm-a-vampire bit wasn't likely to be that believable to her.
Nicholas smiled faintly at the thought of her expression if he tried to explain that. Really, I am a vampire, but a good vampire… except for that one time I murdered an innocent.
He grimaced. Yeah, except for that one inexplicable evil deed he'd performed while in the throes of grief, he was a swell guy.
The slam of the outer door caught his ear, and Nicholas opened his eyes, straining to listen for other sounds in the building, but the steady hum of Mortimer and Bricker's voices from the office was gone. Absolute silence seemed to resound from the hall. He waited another moment, but there wasn't any noise at all now except for his own breathing.
Nicholas was starting to worry that his life mate had decided to leave him to his fate and had slipped back to the safety of the house when he heard the soft "shush" of air being moved as a door opened. It was followed by the scuff of someone walking quickly, and Nicholas smiled to himself. He was sure it was Jo and that she was still here. It might be selfish of him, but he was glad. He could talk with her a little bit and maybe learn something about this woman who could have been his salvation had he not made one stupid, irreconcilable mistake all those years ago.
Standing, he moved to the bars to peer out. She appeared just moments after he reached them, expression fretful and eyes nervous as she hurried down the hall toward him.
"I couldn't get the keys, Bricker has them," Jo babbled as she approached. "But I found these and think I can pick the lock."
"Pick it?" Nicholas asked doubtfully.
"Yes. I worked as a locksmith's assistant the summer between high school and university. He taught me a few tricks. I can do this," she assured him, dropping to her knees in front of his cell door. She examined the lock briefly and then grimaced. "It might take me a little time, but I can do it… and if not, I'll go back and get the axe and just chop through the wall."
Nicholas found himself smiling for no reason. Really, the woman was adorable, he thought, and asked, "So you've worked with a locksmith and now manage a bar. What else have you done in your short life?"
Jo paused and raised her eyebrows as she met his gaze. "My short life? You make it sound like I'm a kid and you're an old man. You're what? Maybe twenty-seven or so?"
"Or so," he muttered, mentally adding, Give or take five hundred and thirty-three years . "So what else have you done?"
Jo shrugged, her attention back on the lock as she stuck her tools in and fiddled with the inner workings. Her voice was absent when she said, "Loads of things. What about you?"
"Loads of things," Nicholas echoed wryly, and suspected he'd worked a hell of a lot more jobs than she had.
"Are you married?"
That question surprised Nicholas, and he glanced away as the usual shaft of pain shot through him at the thought of his late wife. Oddly enough, for the first time in fifty years, the pain wasn't crushing. The memories of his Annie and losing her hurt, but not with the brutality he was used to. His gaze shifted back to Jo. She was concentrating on the lock, but paused to raise a suspicious eyebrow his way.
"Are you?" she asked.
Nicholas shook his head, but then admitted, "Widowed."
Surprise flashed across her face, and then she turned her gaze back to the lock, murmuring, "My sympathies."
"It was a long time ago," he said quietly, and for the first time, it felt like that was true. It had been fifty years since Nicholas had lost his Annie, but for most of those fifty years the loss had felt as raw as if it were just yesterday. Yet now… His gaze slid to Jo and he frowned, feeling guilt writhe in his gut at the knowledge that he was finally letting go of his grief and moving on with life.
"You must have been babies when you married if she's been dead awhile," Jo murmured, squinting into the lock as she worked her tools.
He didn't comment to that, but instead asked, "Do you have a boyfriend or—"
"Nope," she interrupted. "No time. Full-time school and full-time work kind of leaves little time for guys. Besides, I see the worst of man at work."
Nicholas raised his eyebrows at the comment. He'd thought being a rogue hunter showed him the worst of mankind, but she sounded pretty certain. "How's that?"