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Not of me, not of Rhoan. Of Quinn.
She licked her lips and said, "Vinny is rather busy - "
"If Vinny doesn't want a busted door, you had better open it," I said.
Her gaze went blank for a moment, then she said, her voice several octaves lower than it had been moments ago, "The old one stays outside."
"The old one will rip this place apart if you do not open this door, Vincenta." Though Quinn's voice was still decidedly mild, there was a hint of steel underneath that was warning enough to anyone with sense.
Vinny had sense.
The guard stepped back and opened the door. Quinn held out his hand and said, "Give me the gun."
The note of command was in his voice and the girl obeyed without question. Quinn pocketed the weapon, then waved us on.
Rhoan went through the door first. I followed, my gaze sweeping past the velvet lushness to come to rest on Vinny's cozy little setup at the far end of the room. Like before, she was attended by several toga-clad teenagers but, unlike before, their tension was something I could taste. There was no caressing, no languid eyes or secretive little smiles.
How many weapons did they have hidden under their outfits? More than a few, I suspected.
"I do not appreciate my home being invaded like this," Vinny said, her voice as frosty as her expression. Her gaze barely even touched me or Rhoan, but rather centered on the man who walked behind me. "It is outside vampire custom, as you well know, old one."
"Vampire custom is adjustable according to the circumstances," Quinn replied, voice dry. "A fact you'll learn if you live long enough. Which is a debatable event at the present moment."
The air filled with sudden murmuring, and the anger of many different minds seemed to lash at my senses.
"Is that a threat, vampire?" Her voice was soft. Deadly.
Quinn merely smiled. "Simply a fact, Vincenta. I am not, however, the one you have to fear in this little trio. Though I can be, if you wish it."
Her gaze flicked to Rhoan and myself, seemingly dismissing Quinn for the moment. "Why are you here uninvited, wolf? Have you caught the bastard who murdered Ivan yet?"
"No, but we will. Because you're going to tell us everything you know about him."
She smiled and leaned back in her chaise lounge. "You know the cost of information."
I didn't get a chance to answer. Rhoan simply stepped forward, wrapped a hand around her pale neck, then yanked her off the lounge and into the air.
The toga-clad vamps behind the chair blurred into action, some leaping across the leather lounge at Rhoan, others whipping out weapons.
I didn't move. I didn't have to.
Rhoan casually battered away the two that attacked him, then swung the dangling Vinny in their direction. "Shoot, and she dies. Move, and she dies."
"You can't - " Vinny's voice was hoarse and, while vampires didn't actually need to breathe, her face was going an interesting shade of red.
"Oh, I can," Rhoan said, voice all calm iciness. The voice of the killer, not my brother. "We guardians have the power to kill pests on sight. The question that has to be answered now is whether you're a pest or not."
"I can't - " She stopped, gasping for air like a fish out of water.
I glanced at Quinn, and opened the link between us. Is she faking it?
His amusement rolled down the psychic lines. Hell, yeah. She could win an Academy Award with this performance.
One of the toga-clad teenagers shifted slightly. Energy whispered down the link, a mere echo of the power that Quinn flung across the room at the kid who had moved.
"Stop," he said, voice holding the steel of command. The kid froze and his eyes went wide. As wide as his mistress's suddenly were.
"And drop that weapon," Quinn continued. "All of you, drop your weapons."
