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His look was so grim, she started to twitch. “Stop it, Bruno,” she pleaded. “Don’t.”
“What else do you know?” he asked. “How’s the ratio of good and bad cholesterol on my last bloodwork? Do you think my tax deductions last year were justifiable? Did you read my chats?”
She sighed. “You haven’t done a damn thing to prevent me.”
“It never occurred to me that anyone would be interested!”
“Come on,” Lily pleaded. “You can’t stay mad.”
“Watch me.” His voice was hard.
“I already apologized, remember? For five future piss-offs?” she wheedled. “That leaves me four free ones.”
“No way,” he said sourly. “Spying counts for two. Maybe more.”
“That’s not fair! I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t—”
He put his finger to her lips. “Shut up. I have to concentrate hard to remember this number without the use of my electronic brain extensions, and I can’t do it when I’m pissed off. So zip it.”
“That’s sad,” she commented, as soon as he lifted his hand. “Brain atrophy, and at such a young age, too. There are things you can do for that, you know. Math problems. Puzzles.”
He turned back to the phone. “You are now down by four. I’m dialing. We’ll find someplace safe to exchange verbal barbs after, OK?”
Police sirens wailed in the distance, from the direction from which they had come. Bruno looked around, staring towards the sound.
“Looks like they found our buddies,” he said.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered.
“I’m working on it,” he grumbled. “Stop bugging me.”
She followed him out into the chilly air. His back was so broad, so graceful. She stared at the expanse of fine black leather, draped between his big powerful shoulders. Turning his back on her as he dialed was probably meant to be a snub, but in her current boggled state, it felt like an invitation.
She leaned against his back. He stiffened at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. It felt good. She breathed in, leaning closer, pressing against his strength. Sucking it in. Vampire girl, glomming onto him.
A thought took form in her head. She should let it float away. She didn’t have the energy for data processing, particularly emotional stuff. But she followed it, letting it make connections, take on coherence.
About Bruno. It felt so right, the way they bopped each other around, bitching and snarking. Being him was almost, well…fun.
How kinky was that. After that attack, the near death experience, the blood. “Fun” was not a word one would usually associate with that type of adventure. She wondered if it was a conscious strategy, on his part, to keep her from falling to pieces. If he really was that smart, that intuitive, to figure her out so quickly, manage her so smoothly.
Or if it was just a random coincidence.
She huddled closer, not even bothering to eavesdrop on his whispered phone conversation. She wouldn’t have made any sense of it anyhow. Not in brainless clinging leech mode.
She didn’t want an answer to her half-formed question. Any answer would be disturbing, and she was disturbed enough.
Bruno was not her ally, shoulder to shoulder with her against the powers of darkness. No. He was helping out the poor sad crazy girl because he felt sorry for her. Pity did not an ally make. Neither did sex. Not even awesome, earth-shattering, mind-blowing sex.
She knew that. She really did. But even so. She pressed her nose against his vibrant warmth, and inhaled. Mmmm. So nice.
What the hell. She was obscurely comforted anyway.
CHAPTER9
Reggie stared at the corpses. The team he’d sent to intercept Parr and Ranieri lay on the ground amid the garbage. Multiple witnesses milled around, talking excitedly into their cell phones. Cops were on the way, to catalog his error, put it on public record.
He was fucked. He pushed away the staggering finality of it, used DeepWeave Contingency 5.5.2, to calm and focus him, but the effects were muted. He knew what he was supposed to be doing, but he just didn’t move. He just stood there, paralyzed. Staring at the lifeless chunks of meat that had once been Martin, Tom and Cal.
