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“I suppose, given your apparent opinion of me, I should be happy your criteria was aimed somewhere higher than breathing, shouldn’t I?”
“Not breathing is a deal breaker. ” The humor was gone, and her tone was dead serious. Mercedes hated vampires. That she was human and believed they existed was impressive enough, so I had opted not to tell her about my undead half. “Plus, he likes dogs. ”
A short, loud gasp of shocked laughter escaped my mouth. She might not know about the vampire half, but she certainly knew about the werewolf one. “You’re hi-lar-ious. ”
It was at about that moment I realized I was no longer alone in my itty-bitty apartment. It began with a shift of atmosphere, which gave me the sense someone else was taking up space belonging to me. There was no noise to confirm my suspicions, but there didn’t need to be.
Vampires don’t tend to announce themselves politely.
“Cedes, I need to go. ” Sitting up on the bed, I looked into the evening gloom of my living room. I may be able to see in the pitch black, but you need to have a target willing to be seen in order for that to work. Even darkness has its shadows.
“You better not be pretending to be sick. ”
“I don’t get sick,” I replied. I wanted her off the phone, but I didn’t need her to worry. She was a detective after all, and she would know if I sounded uneasy, so I kept my tone playful and even. My eyes, however, were in full-on predator mode.
“Nine o’clock, Secret. I’ve told Tyler to call me at nine-oh-five if you haven’t shown up, and so help me God, girl, if you aren’t there, you will have some serious explaining to do. ”
“Okay. ” I hung up on her without further argument, which would probably worry her more than if I’d started screaming, oh my God, there’s a vampire in my apartment!
The vampire in question now stood i
n the doorway, looking far too pleased with himself. He leaned against the doorframe, all five feet ten inches of lithe, catlike grace and two centuries of practice at acting casual. Holden Chancery wasn’t the kind of man most girls would refuse entry into their bedroom.
I wasn’t most girls.
“I gave you a key so you would stop breaking in, not so you could come and go as you please. ”
Holden’s hair was cut a shade too long but was perfectly groomed. He tossed it out of his eyes and fixed me with a miffed stare only a vampire could manage. His eyes were a rich chocolate brown tonight, so I knew he’d fed. All the same, his gaze traveled from mine down to my throat. I may have been half vampire, but I still had a pulse, and it made me incredibly interesting to the full-bloods I worked with.
“You said I could use the key if there was business,” he said, only half listening.
“Business?” My interest perked up. Perhaps there would be a valid excuse to get out of my date with Detective Tyler after all. I clapped my hands together twice to get his attention off my neck and back to my face.
Girls who think boobs are their most distracting assets haven’t been watched by a vampire.
Holden shook out of his trance and refocused on me.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked with a smirk, which was unusual for him. He often appeared quietly content, like a fat cat after a visit from the milkman, but never looked outright happy. Vamps have a bad habit of only showing in-between emotions—pensive, annoyed, thoughtful, wistful and, of course, brooding. You’d be more likely to provoke the undead to anger than make them bust a gut laughing.
Of course this vampire had heard the entire latter half of my conversation with Mercedes.
“Tell me about the business. ” I grabbed a plain black V-neck T-shirt off the floor and pulled it on over my head. It was rumpled but still smelled clean. I didn’t wear perfume because my nose was sensitive at the best of times, so the shirt held only the faint scent of laundry detergent. I liked it.
“Are you going to wear that on your date?” He sounded offended.
I looked down at the shirt. It fit, it didn’t stink and the wrinkling was minimal. What was his problem? “Well, better this than no shirt at all, right?”
He made a noise of disgust, and before I’d seen him move, he was in my closet.
“Hey. ” I was up and off the bed, following him to my disorganized mess of clothes.
There was a stream of grumbles and sighs from inside the closet as he shoved back hanger after hanger, shaking his head each time. “What exactly do you do with the money we give you?”
“Rent and shoes?”
Holden took a blue, flowing, peasant-style top off the rack, held it up to me and grimaced, then released it into my arms.
“This?” I inspected it, questioning his judgment.
