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“Murder or grave robbery?” Tate asked bluntly.
Bones hit the brakes, intending to fulfill his threat, but Rodney laid a gentle hand on his arm.
“Neither,” he said to Tate. “I own a chain of funeral homes, so my food comes to me, no murder or shovels required.”
“Getting paid to eat. Smart,” Juan murmured in Spanish.
“Isn’t it?” Rodney replied in the same language. Then, he switched back to English. “And Tate, don’t push Bones just because it’s fun. He’s been overprotective of me since he found me starving on the streets of Poland when I was only six.”
“Don’t make allowances for me, Rodney,” Bones ground out.
“He should know a little more about the man he hates,” Rodney went on in a genial tone. “You know how many people walked past me back then? Hundreds. Only Bones stopped, and he didn’t just feed me. He took me in, gave me a home, an education, and later, a choice of staying human or becoming undead. I chose ghoul over vampire because I love food too much to trade it for blood, and now, over a hundred and fifty years later, I just got my chef’s degree.”
“Congratulations,” Tate said after a beat.
Hardly the response Rodney deserved after sharing such a personal recollection, but at least it wasn’t more rudeness.
“Thanks,” Rodney said. “I might even open a restaurant.”
Tate snorted. “Your specials menu would sure be unique.”
Rodney laughed again. “Not that kind of restaurant.”
Juan and Cooper joined in the laughter. Even Tate let out a dry chuckle. Only Bones still felt tense, but for a different reason. Once more, Cat’s mobile went straight to voicemail.
What was going on over there?
Bones sped up while stretching his senses as far as they could go. It was like trying to focus on one face among a vast crowd; difficult, but not impossible if you concentrated. After several minutes, he thought he heard snatches of Cat’s voice even though he was still miles away from the house.
“…we need to have a little talk, woman to skank…”
Bloody. Hell.
Bones sped up even more, until the streets blurred by. Now, he heard more snatches from Cat, and none of it was good.
“…because Bones really does care for you…if you can handle being around him in a platonic way, I’ll deal with not slicing up your heart even though I really,reallywant to…”
“What the hell?” Tate snapped as Bones whipped around a corner fast enough to throw the three men against each other.
“Uh oh.” Rodney gave him a sympathetic look. “I was right?”
“Seems so,” Bones bit out.
“…get off, he’s almost here!” From Annette now, sounding nearly panicked. “Faith, he’ll be so cross with me!”
No need to wonder who’d started this row, then. Annette had just admitted her culpability. Bones drove faster.
Five minutes later, he pulled up to the house and flew out of the car as soon as it stopped. One yank on the front door later, and he was inside. Cat and Annette stood on either side of the living room. Cat’s arms were covered in scratches, the end tables and lamps were gone, glass crunched beneath his feet, and the scent of blood clung to both of them even though Cat stretched as though she were getting up from a long nap.
“Andthat, Annette, is called Pilates,” she said in a terrible imitation of a jovial tone.
“Very entertaining!” Annette said with equal fake cheer.
Even if he couldn’t smell the darker emotions scalding Cat’s scent, one look in her eyes would have told him how badly things had gone. Her gaze was filled with pain, anger, and most infuriating of all, doubt. She hadn’t looked at him that way since they were newly dating, and she still wasn’t sure if he was secretly evil.DamnAnnette for whatever she’d said to put that look back in Cat’s eyes, especially with how Annette dared to blink at him now as if she’d done nothing at all.
“Why, Crispin, you’re back early-”
“Save it,” he said as he walked over to Cat and plucked out the bloody silver knife she’d hidden in the back of her trousers. Then, he went to Annette and showed her the blade.
