Tobias smiled. “I had a cat that did that.”
“You have horses?”
“Used to, long time ago.” Tobias stopped at a red light and glanced at the detective. “When I first moved to Arizona.”
“Just how long ago was that?”
“’Bout a hundred and fifty years ago.” The light turned green and Tobias eased the car forward. “I owned a ranch for a time, but up until our existence became well known, I had to move on after about twenty years or so.” He shot a look at MacMillan. “Once people began to notice I didn’t age, they started asking questions I couldn’t answer.”
“Right. Well, that has to be a plus to being outed, right?” MacMillan shifted to rest one shoulder against the door. “You can stay put in one place.”
“Yes.” Except for now. He was here to do a job, which he would do. But once the job was done, to preserve Nix’s sanity he had to leave again.
MacMillan’s phone rang, some country western tune, and the detective pulled it out and looked at it. “Excuse me,” he said, and answered. “Lily? What’s wrong?” He kept his voice low. The tenderness in his tone told Tobias this was someone important to the detective.
Tobias did his best to not eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to in the confines of his car. When MacMillan ended his call, Tobias asked, “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. That was my sister. It’s nothing.” MacMillan turned his head to look out the window. “She’s just having a tough day.”
Tobias understood the desire to keep his personal life separate from work, so he didn’t press the issue. Instead he commented, “Sweet phone.”
MacMillan looked at him with a grin and pulled the phone out of his pocket again. “Isn’t it? I’m kind of a gadget guy.” He pushed a couple of buttons and showed Tobias the screen. “Google maps. I can check my Facebook account, even surf the Web while I talk.” He pressed another button and showed the screen again. “Twitter. In case you want to, you know, tweet.”
Tobias gave a little growl. “I hate this decade.”
MacMillan snorted and tucked his phone away again. “The guys at the station razz me about not using my phone to take notes, but I know how easy they are to drop and then I’d lose everything.” He glanced out the side window. “Our turnoff’s just up to the right.”
Tobias made the turn onto Gainey Ranch. “Where from here?”
“Third subdivision on the right.”
Tobias pulled into the upscale neighborhood and followed the detective’s directions until he saw Nix’s little Prius parked on the street in front of a sprawling Santa Fe-style house. Nix got out of her car as he stopped the Jag behind her.
“This is one sweet ride,” MacMillan said as he opened his door.
Tobias smiled. “I thought you’d like it.”
“Man, if I had money to throw away on a car, this would be it.”
Tobias gave a quick laugh. Once upon a time he hadn’t had much money, and he remembered how it felt to have to scrimp and save every penny to buy the necessities, let alone a luxury item. He appreciated how the other man felt.
Nix stared at the two men as they got out of the luxury car, both grinning and acting like best buds. She scowled. Men. “If you two are done with your bromance, can we maybe get some work done?” She looked at Dante. “I thought it was women who were supposed to be turned on by a guy’s car?”
Dante’s grin widened. “Oh, you know me, hon. I’m easy.”
Tobias’s gaze darkened as if he remembered just what did turn her on, and her heart thudded a little faster in her chest. To try to cover her reaction to him, she cleared her throat and started toward the house. The two men fell into step behind her.
“Just what’s the game plan?” Dante asked.
“I’ll do the talking.” Tobias stood beside Nix at the door and waited while she knocked. “Vampire to vampire should go better,” he added.
A slender man in a crisp black suit showed them into a home office at the front of the house. Before she went into the room, Nix looked down the hallway and saw glass-paned doors open on to a courtyard complete with a large infinity pool and spa. Polished concrete with tile inlay covered the floors of the hallway and the room she now stood in. A large painted portrait of a Native American chief hung above the gas fireplace, next to which were two wingback chairs. A dark wood desk sat near the large window overlooking the front yard. Two leather armchairs perched in front of the desk, a small table with a kachina doll on it nestled between them. “Mr. Loren will be with you in a moment,” the black-suited man told them. “May I offer you some refreshments? Water, perhaps? Or lemonade?” He looked at Tobias. “I can give you a glass from Mr. Loren’s personal stock. It’s fresh.”