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"I don't think so. I mean, what would I say?"
"You say, 'Hi, baby. You sounded so down this afternoon, I thought you could use a little pick-me-up, so here I am.' Maybe bring him coffee and a doughnut for good measure."
"I don't know..."
"Gabby, you've said yourself the guy has been nothing but sweet and caring when he's with you. From what you told me about your conversation with him today, he sounds very concerned about you. So much so, that he would send one of his buddies over to look in on you while he's on duty and can't be there himself."
"He did stress how dangerous it was topside - and what do you suppose topside means? That doesn't sound like cop talk, does it? What is it, some kind of military terminology?" She shook her head. "I don't know. There's a lot about Lucan Thorne that I just don't know."
"So ask him. Come on, Gabrielle. At least give the guy the benefit of the doubt."
Gabrielle considered her black yoga pants and zippered hoodie, then felt to see how wilted her ponytail had become during the forty-five minute session of stretches. "I should go home first, at least take a quick shower, change my clothes..."
"Wow! I mean, really, wow." Megan's eyes went wide and bright with amusement. "You're afraid to go down there, aren't you? Oh, you want to, but you probably have a million excuses ready for why you can't. Admit it, you really like this guy."
It wasn't as if she could deny it, even if her sudden smile didn't give her away. Gabrielle met her friend's knowing look and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, I do. I like him. A lot."
"Then what are you waiting for? The station is three blocks away, and you look gorgeous as always. Besides, it's not like he hasn't seen you a little sweaty before. He might actually prefer this look on you."
Gabrielle laughed along with Megan, but inside, her stomach was twisting. She really did want to see Lucan - didn't want to wait another minute, in fact - but what if he had been trying to let her down gently when they spoke that afternoon? How ridiculous would she look then, traipsing into the police station like she thought she was his girlfriend? She would feel like an idiot.
No more so than if she got the news secondhand from his friend Gideon, sent to see her on some pity mission.
"Okay. I'm going to do it."
"Good for you!" Megan slung the strap of her rolled yoga mat up on her shoulder, beaming. "I'm meeting Ray at my place after his shift, but call me first thing in the morning and tell me how it went, you hear me?"
"All right. Tell Ray I said hi."
As Megan dashed off to make the 9:15 train, Gabrielle headed for the police station. Along the way, she remembered Megan's advice and made a quick pit stop, picking up a sweet roll and a cup of coffee: full-strength black, since she had a hard time thinking Lucan would be the type to wuss his down with cream, sugar, or decaffeination.
With these gifts in hand as she reached the door of the precinct house, Gabrielle took a courage-building breath, then stepped over the threshold and strode casually inside.
The worst of his burns had begun to heal by nightfall. New skin grew firm and healthy beneath the feathery peels of the old as the outward damage sloughed away. His eyes, still hypersensitive to even artificial light, registered no pain in the cool darkness topside. Which was good, because he needed to be out here to quench the searing thirst of his recuperating body.
Dante stared at him as the two of them emerged from out of the compound and prepared to part company for a night of recon and hell's own retribution on the Rogues.
"You don't look so good, man. You say the word, I'm out there hunting for you, bring you back something young and strong. You sure as shit need it. And no one has to know you didn't score the sustenance on your own."
Lucan swung a grim look at the male and bared his teeth in a sneer. "Fuck you."
Dante chuckled. "Had a feeling you'd say that. You want me to ride shotgun for you, at least?"
The slow shake of his head sent a knife of pain lancing through his head. "I'm good. Be better, once I feed."
"No doubt." The vampire was silent for a long moment, just looking at him. "You know, that was pretty friggin' impressive, what you did for Conlan today. He wouldn't have seen that coming in a hundred years, but damn, I wish he knew you were the one walking those final steps with him. Way to honor him, man. Truly."
Lucan absorbed the praise without letting it warm him. He'd had his reasons for performing the funeral rite, and winning the admiration of the other warriors wasn't one of them. "Give me an hour to hunt, then contact me back here with your location so we can deal some death to our enemies tonight. In Conlan's memory."
Dante nodded, and rapped his knuckles against Lucan's fist. "You got it."
Lucan hung back as Dante retreated into the dark, his long-legged stride cocky in anticipation of the battles that awaited him on the streets. He drew his twin weapons from their sheaths and raised the curved malebranche blades high over his head. The gleam from those claws of polished steel and Rogue-slaying titanium sparked in the thin glow of moonlight overhead. With a low whoop of a battle cry, the vampire vanished into the shadows of the night.
Lucan followed not long after, taking a similar path into the lightless arteries of the city. His stealthy gait held less bravado than purpose, less eager arrogance than stone-cold need. His hunger was worse than it ever had been, and the roar he sent up into the canopy of stars above was filled with feral rage.
"Can you spell that last name again, please?"
"T-H-O-R-N-E," Gabrielle told the station receptionist, who had already come up empty on her first search of the directory. "Detective Lucan Thorne. I don't know what department he works in. He came to my house after I was in here reporting an attack I witnessed last weekend - a murder."
