Nicholas merely nodded and shifted to block Ernie from her view. It was obvious she hadn't yet noticed the knife sticking out of the rogue's chest, but then it was dark and she was mortal, without the night vision he enjoyed. He suspected she'd be upset if she did see it, though, so shifted to the side again when she tried to peer around him.
"You should go to the house. It's safer," he said quietly.
"Yes, but what about him?" she asked, trying to look around him once more.
Nicholas merely shifted his bulk to block her again. "I'll take care of him."
"Oh, well…"
She frowned, her gaze moving back toward the house uncertainly, and Nicholas turned her in that direction and gave her a little push both physically and mentally. "Go on."
As far as he was concerned that should have been enough to send her on her way, so forgetting about the woman, Nicholas moved back to kneel beside Ernie. He needed to be sure the knife rested in the rogue's heart and that the man wasn't likely to get up and make a nuisance of himself. Then he could slip off the property, get back to his vehicle, and call to let Mortimer know he'd left him a little gift.
"What's your name?"
Nicholas stiffened and glanced over his shoulder with surprise. The woman should be halfway to the house by now; he'd pushed the thought at her to go back inside. Instead, she was standing right behind him, peering over his shoulder at Ernie. He saw her frown and squint to see better and then she asked, "What's that in his chest?"
Cursing, Nicholas stood and caught her arm to urge her toward the house. This time he actually tried to slip into her thoughts rather than simply send out a general thought. However, his footsteps came to an abrupt halt when he came up against a blank wall in her mind.
"What is it?" she asked, peering up at him curiously.
"I can't read you," Nicholas admitted with bemusement.
"Read me?" she asked with confusion.
Nicholas merely shook his head and tried again to penetrate her thoughts, but again he came up against a blank wall… which could mean only one thing: She was his life mate. It was a shocking revelation. Some immortals only ever met one life mate in a lifetime. Some found and lost one and then waited centuries, even millennia to meet another. Nicholas had found his first life mate fifty years ago and lost her a few short months later. Truthfully, he'd never thought he'd encounter another. He hadn't thought he'd live that long.
"Oh jeez, not you too."
Nicholas blinked his thoughts away and quirked one eyebrow in question. "Not me too what?"
"The penis-eye thing," she muttered.
"Penis-eye thing?" he asked with complete confusion. It was a term he had never heard before.
She shifted impatiently, but explained, "Sam is holding a party tonight to introduce my sister Alex and me to some of Mortimer's friends. They're all male, and every single time one of them has been introduced to us, they stop and stare at our foreheads like we've got penises growing out of them."
"Ah," Nicholas murmured, and had to hide the smile that wanted to creep across his face. The desire to smile died as he realized he was actually having it. Nicholas hadn't had anything to smile about in a very long time. Clearing his throat, he asked, "And what happens after they stare at your foreheads?"
She shrugged, managing to look even more irritated. "They wander off without a word and talk to each other. Right now there are probably twelve decent-looking guys in the house all talking to each other while Alex is either standing by herself or is talking to Sam and Mortimer." She pursed her lips briefly and then admitted, "I think they're gay."
Nicholas raised his other eyebrow. "Sam and Mortimer?"
"What?" she asked with amazement and then clucked her tongue impatiently. "No. Sam is my sister, Samantha. She and Mortimer are a couple."
"I see," Nicholas murmured, and then offered, "My apologies for giving you the penis-eye look."
"Hmm," she murmured, and started to turn back toward Ernie.
"What's your name?" Nicholas asked, drawing her attention back to him.
She turned back, but merely arched an eyebrow and pointed out, "I asked you that very thing several minutes ago and you still haven't answered me."
"Nicholas Argeneau," he said quietly, and waited for a gasp of horror, or for disgust to enter her eyes. Instead, she held out her hand.
"Nice to meet you Nicholas Argeneau. I'm Jo Willan."
"Jo," he murmured, and thought it suited her. "Short for Josephine?"
She wrinkled her nose, but nodded. "I hate that name."
"I like it fine," he said, and then added, "But Jo suits you better."