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And as a Cazador, he was one of the most dangerous men I’d ever met.
I stopped abruptly. “Why are you here?”
“I am under orders, as you no doubt suspect.” His voice held neither warmth nor inflection and yet somehow managed to be pleasant.
“So who’s following me about on the gray fields right now?”
“Nick Krogan is currently on duty. Janice Myer shares the task at other times.” He shrugged, the movement elegant. “It is my night off.”
So they had female Cazadors? I guess there was no reason why they shouldn’t, but it surprised me, for some reason. “And yet here you are.”
“Because the wise in this world do not ignore the wishes of Madeline Hunter.”
And yet I baited the bitch. What did that say about me? “Are you here to poke me into action or what?”
Amusement flickered through the darkness of his eyes and briefly warmed the coolness of his expression. “I am not here to poke. I merely deliver.”
“Considering you’re here under orders from Hunter, I’m rather hesitant to ask what, exactly, you’re delivering.”
The amusement was more pronounced, but he merely reached inside his rather classy-looking black trench coat and withdrew a small leather folder. With some trepidation, I took it and opened it up.
It was a badge. According to it, I was now an official investigator for the high vampire council. Talk about the shit-hole getting deeper.
I blew out a breath that did little to ease the tide of tension and shoved my shiny new credentials into the back pocket of my jeans. “Is that it?”
“For now, yes.” He hesitated, his dark gaze flicking past me briefly. Then, more softly, he added, “Tread warily with Hunter on this one, Risa. She is ready to tear someone’s throat out over this loss, and you are already close to pushing her past the limit.”
I stared at him for a moment, then swallowed heavily. “Thanks for the warning.”
“You are most welcome.” A slight smile touched his lips, and just for a moment lent his austere features a surprising warmth. “I actually enjoy this duty. It makes a pleasant change from bloodshed, and you are certainly never boring.”
I half smiled. “You obviously haven’t been following me around for long enough, then.”
“Perhaps not.” He touched my shoulder lightly as he stepped past. “Be respectful. At least until this killer is caught.”
“I will.”
He nodded and walked away. I turned, watching him move through the crowd with ease, wondering how long he’d been a Cazador. He certainly wasn’t the cold-blooded killing machine I’d grown up believing them to be—not on the surface, anyway. Of course, neither was Uncle Quinn, and he’d been a Cazador for centuries.
But that, I knew, was a rare feat. Most either died on the job or were killed by the council after the endless killing sent them insane.
I headed back upstairs. Azriel still sat on the sofa, and I shook my head as I walked over to my desk to grab my coat, purse, and keys. “Don’t you ever get bored, sitting there doing nothing?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Who said I was doing nothing?”
I glanced around. “Well, that’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.”
“Well, perhaps you should stand a little closer.”
I grinned. “I keep trying. You keep pushing me away.”
He rose and plucked the jacket from my grip, holding it out for me. “I did not mean in the physical sense.”
I snorted softly as I shoved my arms into the sleeves. “Well, I can hardly get close to you mentally. The connection isn’t two-way, remember?”
“I was not talking about either physical or mental connections.”
I swung around, but he didn’t move his hands, and his fingers trailed across my skin. His touch was warm, electric, and stirred to life the unsatisfied embers of desire once more. “What other connection is there?”
