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“Goodie.”
He ignores my sarcasm.Just as well.
“There’s been a threat to the Brotherhood.One of the lycans has allegedly aligned with a demon.”
“There’s always a threat to the Brotherhood,” I say.“And by the way, since I always play ahugerole in taking care of all your perceived threats, shouldn’t we call it the Brother-Sisterhood?”
He blows off my query.Big surprise.
“The lycan in question is an alpha named Victor Rogan.He’s been linked to two vamp slayings in the past month.”
“Linked how?”
“His bite marks were found on the chests of both corpses.”
I should probably feel something.Two vampires dead.Despite my paternity, though, I don’t feel a connection to the Brotherhood.“So?Lots of vamps get bitten by weres and live to tell the tale.Lycans are hardly lethal to us.”
“They are when they literally eat our hearts out.”
This time chills slither along the back of my neck.“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.The victims’ hearts were gone, and Rogan’s marks were all over them.”
“Still circumstantial.”
“Circumstantial how?You think he attacked them, left them immobile, and then someone else came along and sliced out their hearts?”
“Why not?The lycans know better than to mess with us.”
A few years ago, the Vampire Brotherhood and the Lycan Council reached a truce of sorts.We all agreed to register our bite marks with the government upon reaching the age of eighteen.Bite marks are unique to all vamps and lycans, like fingerprints are to humans.Any lycan or vamp mark can be easily identified via the central computer system.Surely this Victor knows all that, so why would he take the chance of being found out?
“None of this makes sense,” I say.
“I agree.”Dad pauses and rubs his chin.“Which is why I need you to get close to him.”
Here it comes.“Uh…how close, exactly?”
“I think you know.You won’t mind.He’s very handsome.I have a photo here somewhere.”He pats some papers on his desk.
I roll my eyes.“If he’s so handsome, why don’tyouseduce him?”
Dad lets out a chuckle.“Trust me, I would if I could, but by all accounts, Victor Rogan is not the least bit interested in men.”
“Pity.”I look at my fingernails.Pretty ragged.Maybe I can fit in a manicure when I get home.
“You’re telling me.”He shuffles more papers.“Ah, here it is.”He shoves an eight-by-ten glossy across the desk.
I widen my eyes.Handsome doesn’t evenbeginto cover this god.
“I see you’re pleased.”Dad smirks.“I hear the photo doesn’t do him justice.”
Heat curls in my gut.My nipples harden.Emerald-green eyes fringed with thick black lashes, a chiseled face, just the right amount of dark stubble.And hair.Glorious hair.I love long hair on a man.It’s even darker than my own and it falls in unruly waves around beefy shoulders.
My heart slams against my chest, its cadence rapid.My skin heats, cools, heats again.
I close my eyes and inhale.Thethump thumpof his heart, the whoosh of the blood through his veins…both crash into my ears like a roaring storm.
I shake my head to gain composure.What imagination!I’ve never had such a physical reaction to a photograph.
