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He glanced down at the three plates that I'd all but licked clean, then said, with a smile touching his luscious lips, "If there's one thing I've always admired about werewolves, it's their appetite."
A smile teased my lips. "And here I was thinking you were all darkly disapproving of a werewolf's appetite."
"Only when that appetite isn't aimed in the right direction."
I leaned forward again and crossed my arms on the table. I was wearing a low cut, V-necked T-shirt, so the action exposed not only the blue lace of my bra, but a rather large amount of breast. "The right direction being you, and only you?"
"In your case, yes." His gaze slithered downward briefly before rising, and the smile became full blown. The heat of it just about blew my socks off. "And you surely can't blame me for wanting to keep your luscious body all to myself. Any man with any sense would want to do the same."
Which left me with the perfect opening to bring up the problem of his feeding. I blew out a breath, then said, "That's something we need to talk about."
His warm smile faded as he studied me for a moment, and part of me mourned its loss.
"This sounds serious."
"It is."
"Then wait a moment while I grab a coffee to fortify myself." He signaled to the waiter, who bought over the coffee pot and filled up his mug. Quinn picked it up and took a sip, then his dark gaze met mine. "Okay, fire away."
I blew out another breath. "Several people over the last couple of days have commented on how pale I look."
He raised a dark eyebrow. "You have a vampire feeding on you nightly. It's natural that you're going to look a little paler."
"Yeah, but the problem is that it's not just the paleness. I've been dizzy on several occasions, and I've been lucky that it hasn't had disastrous consequences." I hesitated, then added, "Now, I'm not entirely convinced it's your feeding causing this, because my psychic talents seem to be rapidly developing new and interesting twists right now, but I still think it's something we need to discuss."
He frowned. "If it is the feeding, then I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"
"It's not your fault," I interrupted quickly. "Not entirely. I should have said something the minute I realized the feedings might be affecting me."
"I didn't think they would." He took another sip of coffee, his expression as neutral as I'd ever seen it, then said, "Generally, a werewolf's quick recuperation powers enable them to recover more quickly than mortals."
"And it does." I gave him a lopsided smile. "I'm gathering there are not many mortals who could take a vampire feeding off them three or four times a night for several nights on end."
"No." He put down his coffee then reached forward and wrapped his hands around mine. His fingers were warm, filled with a strength that was comforting. "Trouble is, when I have sex, I feed. I can't not feed. It's a part of the whole equation for me."
"And you reckon we werewolves are addicted to sex."
He smiled, but the seriousness in his eyes stopped my lips from echoing his. "It's not an addiction, but a necessity. You're currently my only partner, Riley, so therefore my only source of food.">No answer came, but that didn't surprise me. Any kid with half a brain wouldn't come out of hiding on first hearing a familiar voice. Especially after what he'd just witnessed.
"Joe, it really is me." I grabbed my badge and held it up into the hole. "Here's my ID."
There was no response for several seconds, then came a shuffle of movement, and suddenly the scent of man and fear wafted down through the hatchway. It was Joe, all right.
"Are those things dead?" he asked.
"Yes." Although technically they probably weren't. Not until the magi came in and removed whatever spell the sorceress had used to raise them.
"They killed Jacques."
"I know. You coming down?"
A pale face appeared briefly in the hatchway, and the tension lining his bright eyes eased a little when he saw that it really was me. His feet replaced his face, and he slithered through the hole and dropped to the floor.
"I couldn't help him," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I just couldn't."
He wasn't meeting my eyes and his expression was a mix of defiance and guilt.
"Jacques was here to protect you, not the other way around. He died in that duty. It's not your fault or your responsibility. Besides, if you hadn't hidden, you might be dead right alongside him."
