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Bones reached for his mobile, freezing when it wasn’t in its usual place inside his jacket. Had it fallen out during their fight? No…he’d left it back at the pub to clone Randy’s phone.
Bones wiped the worst of the blood on his shirt. That was the other reason he only wore black; it hid incriminating stains. Then, a pair of gloves hid his red-stained hands. The gloves reminded him of Cat. She’d worn gloves the night they met. Yes, she’d also tried to kill him that night, but she believed all vampires were evil at the time. Took a lot of doing to convince her otherwise. Took even more work before she grew to love him with the same unbridled passion he’d felt for her…and if he kept thinking this way, he’d give into the loss that burned like a living inferno inside him.
Bones forced his pain back beneath the ice that had saved him countless times during his long life. He picked up Lionel’s envelope. It might not contain anything useful, but he wasn’t leaving it behind for anyone else to discover.
When Bones finally entered the bar again, he was surprised to see that Randy was still there. Bones’s former seat was still open, too, and his mobile was on the countertop where he’d left it. Even his whisky glass remained untouched.
“Didn’t expect you to stay,” Bones said.
Randy gave him a look of wary amusement. “You told me to stay if I wanted to live. I do, so here I am. Plus, I saw that you’re cloning my phone. I’m a software designer, so I recognized the program,” he added at Bones’s raised brow. “No point in running when you know everything about me now.”
Bones let out a bark of laughter. “You should have taken both mobiles with you when you fled. Then, I’d have nothing.”
Randy’s eyes widened. “You don’t have the cloning program backing up into the cloud on a private server?”
He sounded more shocked by that than he had at learning that vampires existed. Bones should take his mobile and leave, but…he had no new leads, no one else to kill, and no one else to talk to, if he were being honest. His best mate, Charles, would only give him another lecture to move on with his life, and nothing awaited him back in his hotel room except loneliness.
“I meant stay as in ‘don’t follow me,’ but since you were so literal with your translation,” Bones signaled for the bartender, “I may as well buy you a drink.”
2
Two months later, Bones was following up on a possible sighting of Cat in Texas when his mobile rang. He glanced at the number with a silent scoff. It was Ian, the vampire who’d turned him over two centuries ago despite Bones emphatically saying that he didnotwant to become a vampire.
Bones ignored the call. He could do without another thinly-veiled admonition from his sire to stop taking contracts on prominent vampires. Word of Lionel’s death would have reached Ian by now, and Ian hated playing a placatory role in the undead world. He far preferred the rebel role.
Bones’s mobile stopped ringing, but then immediately chimed with a text alert. His lips curled. Patience wasn’t his sire’s strong suit, but Ian would have to learn it because Bones had no time for his sire’s nattering today.
An hour later, Bones glanced at Ian’s text only to stop the “unread message” alert from chirping every five minutes. Then, adrenaline harpooned him so fiercely that he crushed his phone, but not before reading the single line of text Ian had sent.
Very well, I WON’T tell you what happened when your redheaded ex came to see me yesterday.
“Lucifer’s boiling blood!” Bones shouted, knocking things over in his haste to get to his burner phone. Then, he had to force himself to relax as he dialed Ian’s number. Cat had gone after hissire? And Ian was still alive?
Did that mean…did that mean Ian had killed her?
At last, Ian answered. “I don’t know this number-”
“Where is she?” Bones shouted.
“Well, look who finally rang me back,” Ian said with heavy sarcasm. “Have your attention now, don’t I?”
It took all Bones’s willpower not to scream his question again. Sharks scenting blood were less ruthless than Ian when he knew he had an advantage. Bones had already given away too much. He had to reel it back or his wily sire would tell him nothing.
“Say again? There’s beastly noise in this club,” Bones said while turning up the telly as loud as it would go.
“Look who finally rang me back,” Ian repeated in a louder, yet still sarcastic tone. “Thought you might after that text.”
“Yes, well, I have many redheaded exes, but you’d only bother contacting me over one of them,” Bones said in as calm a manner as he could. “She tried to kill you, I assume?”
“Certainly did,” Ian said with infuriating amusement.
“And?” Bones ground out, his blood feeling as if it had transformed into boiling oil.
“And I’m busy now,” Ian said before a distinct click.
Bones stared at his mobile, confirming that the call had indeed ended. Then, he set it down…and demolished his hotel room. If Ian had killed Cat, this carnage would be nothing compared to what Bones would do to him, sire be damned. Still, he couldn’t do anything until he collected himself.
It took twenty minutes before Bones had piled on enough ice to think logically again. When he did, he was certain that Cat was still alive. Why would Ian rush to inform him if he’d killed her? That wasn’t like Ian, for the simple reason that it showed too much bloody consideration.
