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"No, I…" She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry," she said miserably. "I shouldn't have come here. I've got to go."
"Take my car," he said curtly.
"No."
"Cab drivers will not pick up fares in this part of town."
"Joaquin…"
"Go! I would not want you to be late."
"The body…"
"I will take care of it."
Afraid anything she said or did from that point on would only make matters worse, she grabbed her gun and hurried out the door. The scent of blood and death enveloped her when she reached the ground floor of the building.
She averted her eyes as she passed the dead man, thinking how differently things would have turned out if Santiago hadn't come to her rescue. Of course, she wouldn't have been there in the first place if it wasn't for him.
After unlocking the car door, she slid behind the wheel, locked the door, and punched in the ignition code, only to sit there, her hands trembling on the wheel as she fought the urge to cry.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled away from the curb, wondering what excuse she could give Michael for being late.
He was waiting for her inside the restaurant. He rose when she entered. Murmuring, "Hi, gorgeous," he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek.
"Hi, Mike. Sorry I'm late."
"It's okay." Taking a step back, his gaze moved over her. "It was worth the wait."
"Thank you."
A hostess seated them a few moments later. Regan noted that most of the tables were empty, but that wasn't surprising. Mr. Charlie's was the kind of place that drew a late-night crowd.
"It's been a long time," Michael remarked. "And seems even longer."
"Yes."
He tilted his head to the side, his expression thoughtful. "You look… different somehow."
Regan's heart did a funny little flip-flop in her chest. "Different?" Could he tell that she had been bitten? Was it that obvious? "Different how?"
He sat back, his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm not sure."
"I don't know what could be different," she said, forcing a smile. "I haven't changed anything. Same hair, same perfume, same lipstick."
"Probably just my imagination. Whatever the difference is, I approve."
"So, how are things at work?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation into another, safer direction.
"Same as always. Oh, Holloway was promoted to lieutenant on Friday."
"Holloway! I thought you were next in line?"
"Yeah, me, too."
"You deserved it more. Holloway's an ass."
"I can't argue with you there," Michael said, laughing. "Here comes the waitress. Are you going to have your usual?"
Her usual was a large Cobb salad and a glass of iced tea. "Not tonight. I think I'll have a steak. Very rare. And a glass of red wine."
Michael's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Rare? Not well done?"
She shrugged. "I decided to try it your way tonight."
He looked at her oddly for a moment, then gave the waitress their order.
Regan fidgeted with her napkin. It seemed odd to be sitting there, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just odd to be with Mike after spending so much time with Santiago. She asked Mike about work, her mind wandering as he told her about the case he was working on.
When their order arrived, Regan stared at the slab of meat on her plate for a moment before cutting into it. What on earth had possessed her to order it rare? It was blood red inside, more like raw than rare. Stabbing a piece with her fork, she took a bite. Heaven, she thought, pure heaven. Why had she ever ordered her steaks well done?
She was halfway through her meal when she had the unmistakable impression that she was being watched. Slowly turning her head to the side, she saw Santiago seated at a table near the window. She felt a sharp pain in her heart when she noticed that he was with the same red-haired female vampire she had seen him with once before.
She was wondering how the redhead had eluded the barrier when Santiago looked her way and caught her staring. Her first instinct was to lower her gaze; instead, she smiled faintly, as if it was of no concern at all that he was out with someone else. And why should it matter? Santiago was a vampire. His date was a vampire. As her grandmother always said, there can be happiness only when like marries like, a saying that had never been truer than now.
Regan tore her gaze from Santiago's and smiled at Mike while an impish little voice in the back of her head whispered that werewolves and vampires had a lot more in common than werewolves and mortals.
Chapter 21
Regan forced a smile as she bid Michael good night at the curb. They had enjoyed a leisurely dinner followed by coffee and dessert, and then spent the rest of the evening dancing. She had been all too aware of Santiago's presence, all too jealous of the woman he danced with. Once, Regan had thought he was going to ask her to dance, but he had walked past her as if she didn't exist.
He and the red-haired woman had left the restaurant a little after midnight. Off for a night of hunting, she thought, fighting off a wave of jealousy.
"I had a good time tonight, Reggie," Michael said, taking her into his arms.
"Me, too." It was partially true. She had been having a good time until Santiago showed up with the redhead.
"I'm off again tomorrow night. What do you say? Wanna catch an early dinner and a movie?"
She didn't, not really, but the thought of Santiago and the red-haired vampire made her smile and say, "Sure, why not?"
"Great, I'll pick you up at what, six-thirty, seven?"
"I'll check the Net for showtimes and give you a call."
"Sounds good. I've got court in the morning, so we'll have to make it an early night. Hey," he said, noticing the Speedster for the first time as she punched in the code to unlock the door. "When did you get that?"
"What?"
"The Speedster." He whistled softly. "Those things cost a small fortune."
"Oh, that, I… my car's in the shop and I… uh, borrowed this from a friend."
"Must be some friend."
"Yes. Well, good night, Mike."
He slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her good night. "See you tomorrow night."
With a nod, she slid behind the wheel, closed the door, and started the car. She waved to Michael as she pulled away from the curb.
Distracted, she punched her address into the Speedster's computer, then sat back and let the car do the driving. She wasn't taking the car back to Santiago this time; she didn't want to take a chance of barging in on him and the woman. If he wanted his car, he could darn well come and get it.
