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“Step forward,” an unfamiliar voice said from an unseen speaker. Then, a door slid open ahead.
Bones gathered his strength and went through the door. It opened into another small room with beige walls on all sides except one, where a dark screen covered glass thick enough to belong on a pressurized substation at the bottom of an ocean.
As soon as Bones was inside, the door closed behind him. Once it did, the screen slid up, revealing Tate Bradley. He’d taken off his helmet, showing brown hair cut military short, lightly tanned white skin, navy blue eyes, and a look of scorn on his handsome features.
“Welcome to your new home, vampire.”
Bones smiled. “For now.”
Tate raked him with another glance, and then shook his head. “What the fuck did Cat see in you?”
Silver took longer to heal than any other wound. That’s why it took Bones a few moments to notice the slight dilation in Tate’s eyes, how tight his shoulders were, or the way his fingers twitched as if Tate were fighting not to curl them into fists. Tate wasn’t suffering from simple jealousy. Oh, no. This was something else.
Bones’s chuckle was a dry rasp. “How long have you been in love with Cat? Is it a recent thing, or this whole time? Ah, this whole time,” he clarified when Tate suddenly stiffened like he’d been electrocuted. “A hundred pounds says she had no idea. She’s perceptive about many things, but love isn’t one of them.”
“Fuck you, tomb trash,” Tate gritted out.
Devolving into insults-no faster way to admit that you’ve lost an argument. Bones stared at Tate, weighing this new information. On one hand, his emotions screamed “kill!” with all their usual vampire territorialism. On the other, this meant that Tate would die to protect Cat. That made the annoying bugger useful. For now.
Bones held Tate’s gaze, and then shrugged. “I don’t try to make Cat ashamed of who and what she is, for starters. For the rest of what she sees in me, you’ll have to ask her.”
Tate opened his mouth, but then shut it when a tall, muscular man with collar-length black hair, almond-colored skin, and eyes as dark as Bones’s appeared next to him.
“Don wants to see you,amigo.”
Bones recognized Juan’s voice and waved at him while Tate left after another disgusted shake of his head.
“Hallo again,” Bones said to Juan.
From the faint lines around Juan’s mouth, he smiled often, but nothing except a hard slit showed as he glanced at Bones.
“Don’t bother. Nothing you say matters. I’ve heard every plea and threat possible from vamps in your position.”
“I expect you have,” Bones said with a concurring nod.
Juan said nothing. Neither did Bones. After several minutes, Bones sat down as if too exhausted to stand, which would be true if he were anything other than a Master. But, with the silver finally out of him, his strength was returning.
“Cat has saved my life nineteen times,” Juan abruptly stated. “I still remember number four like it was yesterday. We were clearing a nest in an abandoned building, and I heard someone calling for help. So, like the dumbpendejoI was, I broke formation and ran into the room…and fell through the floor. The vamps had covered a big hole with a tarp, and I dropped three stories. Broke both my legs and lost my gun in the fall, too. So, I could only crawl away from the six vampires surrounding me. I knew I was dead, but then, I heard Cat cursing me and saw her swan-dive after me. She took out two of the vampires with that incredible dive. How it didn’t kill her, I still don’t know, but then, she ripped through the other four, yanked my ass up, and carried me out of there.”
Bones closed his eyes, torn between pride and barely controlled panic. “Of course she did. Her own safety means nothing to her if there’s someone else in danger.”
That’s why he’d let himself get captured and brought here. Someone needed to look out for her for a change.
When he opened his eyes, Juan was still staring at him. “Cat cares for you. Because of that, I will give you the benefit of the doubt that she asked me to. But if thatchupacabradidn’t lie about you attacking her, and if you’re involved in the attempt on her life, I’ll carve your fucking heart out.”
A self-deprecating truth followed by a fair warning. Juan was an honorable man. His file hadn’t indicated that. Oh, it had given Bones many facts, such as the little-known one where Juan spoke perfect English despite his exaggerated Spanish accent, but it hadn’t told Bones that. Sometimes, facts weren’t the only measure of a person’s character.
“I would never hurt Cat,” Bones said, holding Juan’s piercing stare. “And, though you’re right about her mum being a chupacabra, I also wouldn’t hurt Justina.”
Juan grunted. “We’ll see.”
Half an hour slid by in fairly companionable silence, until Tate appeared again. His face was flushed with anger or frustration or both, and he was so agitated that his skin seemed too tight to contain the energy roiling beneath it.
“I don’t fucking believe I’m actually going to do this,” Tate spat. “I must be out of my mind.”
“Que?” Juan said warily.
Tate ignored that to shoot a glare at Bones. “If she’s wrong about you, if you’re playing her, you’re fuckingdead.”
