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No. He raised a hand, bidding for a weird-looking painting.
I've danced with wolves out of the same sort of need. I couldn't tell you what they looked like let alone what they smelled like. I paused, but couldn't resist adding, Remember what you said a few months ago? That a wolf will jump anything with a dick when the need was on her? I guess it's true.
I didn't put it so crudely.
Maybe not, but the intent was there.
He raised his hand again. I believe you told me you'd never got to that stage before.
I believe I may have lied.
And here I was thinking you were at least honest.
I'm a werewolf - we're all lying whores, aren't we?
He looked at me for several long seconds, his expression vampire clean, then just shook his head and looked away.
The auction continued. Quinn bought two paintings and a dinner for two at some fancy restaurant while I got more and more bored. If this was a sample of the high life, then the high life wasn't for me.
The auction finally finished and dessert arrived. I started to tuck in, then saw Mrs. Hunt on the arm of her husband, heading for the door.
"Time for us to go," Quinn said, wrapping his fingers around my arm as he exchanged quick goodbyes with our tablemates.
And do what, precisely?
Follow them.
We grabbed my coat from the cloakroom, and headed out into the foyer. The air here was cooler, and I shivered. We have our orders.
We have half an hour before we have to head back to the airport. I'd like to see where they go.
Probably straight home after such a fun-packed night. The Hunts had already disappeared. We caught the other lift and headed down.
It's unusual for them to leave a function like this so early.
I shoved on my coat, and quickly did up the buttons. Maybe the general's feeling randy.
He gave me a flat look but didn't bother saying anything. I resisted the impulse to grin. It might not be wise, but damn, baiting him was fun.
The lift came to a halt and the doors opened. The Hunts were already out the main doors and walking down the stairs. We hurried after them, slowing only when the foyer doors opened to let us out.
The night air hit like ice, freezing the bits that were exposed. I crossed my arms, trying to stop my teeth from chattering as Quinn pulled me to a stop on the bottom step, then made a quick call to his driver.
The Hunts walked to the leading cab in the rank, the general opening the door for his wife. In that instant, the sensation of danger hit so hard that it left me gasping for air. Air that screamed a warning that something fast and deadly was tearing through the night toward us.
I threw myself sideways, knocking Quinn out of the way. He cursed, his arms going around me, instinctively cushioning my body with his as we fell to the ground. He grunted as we hit, and his eyes widened. Something burned past my ear, and I twisted around in time to see one side of the glass doors shatter.
Someone had shot at us.
A woman screamed. A high-pitched, wailing sound of horror.
Gut churning, I twisted around again.
Martin Hunt lay on the ground, his face little more than a pulpy mass of blood and bone.
Quinn thrust me off him, and I scrambled to my feet.
"Two shooters," he said. "One from the building directly ahead, one from the right."
