Not bothering to open my eyes, I murmured, “Not today, Satan.”
“You suck.”
“But you don’t.” A smile tickled the edge of my mouth. “Not on me.”
“I wouldn’t have bitten you.” She hesitated. “Hard.”
“I’ve been bitten by vampires.” I cracked an eye to glare at her. “It’s always hard, and it always hurts.” I flashed my forearm, which was crisscrossed with white lines, a favorite spot of theirs. “It usually scars too.”
“Bites don’t count when they happen in the heat of battle.” She pouted. “I could make it good for you.”
“Mm-hmm.” I yawned, blowing morning breath in her face when she got too close. “Keep your fangs to yourself, missy.”
A cough moved through her chest, and she wrinkled her nose. “You’re no fun.”
“So you tell me. Like every day.”
“Friends are supposed to tell friends when they’re stuck in a rut.”
“Friends are also not supposed to eat friends. Friends are not food.”
Red lips curving in a sensual grin, she leaned closer. “I—”
“Nope.” I tapped the end of her nose. “Bad vampire.”
Cass dialed up the charm. “But—”
“Bad.” I tapped her again. “Vampire.”
Growling, she bared her teeth at me and rose into a crouch, muscles coiling, ready to spring.
Lucky for me, her phone rang. The jingle was a familiar one. It belonged to our boss.
“Gustav.” She switched to speaker then stuck her arm straight out to avoid those pesky radio frequency waves from beaming into her head and cooking her brain or whatever it was this week. I often lost track. “What have you got for me?”
“Ask me in person sometime,” the shifter chuckled, “and I just might show you.”
While Cass chuckled at the come-on, I mouthed, You two were made for each other.
“Promises, promises.” She sighed lustily, which I hadn’t known was possible. “You’re all talk.”
“This mouth is better at things unsaid, sweetheart.” A growl entered his voice. “Try me.”
Hunger sparked in her eyes, and she wet her lips, about to take this into territory my ears were too young and innocent to hear.
“Hi, Gustav,” I chimed in. “What’s up?”
“If you’ve been listening in, I’ll let you take a wild guess.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I wished I had kept my mouth shut.
“I got a runaway.” His sigh blasted the receiver, but he dragged his thoughts back on task. “This one is hot.”
Cass rose in a fluid stretch of lean muscle. “Hot as in…?”
“Handling this case will burn you,” he warned. “Though the kid is a looker.”
Pulse thumping, I pushed upright. “Kid?”
“Twyla Thorn.” He tapped a few keys. “Adopted by a vamp couple when she was six. She’s sixteen now. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Tall, lean. She’s going to be a knockout in a few years.”
Given vampire reproduction was a no-go, I had heard of plenty of couples who chose to adopt human children. Some did it for status, others for curiosity, a few out of boredom, and in very rare cases, love.
The one thing they all had in common?
Beauty.
To be clear, I mean physical beauty. There’s no barometer for inner beauty. You can’t look at an infant and know what’s in its heart. Then there’s the whole nature versus nurture argument that even the undead can’t agree on.
The goal, from what I had seen and heard, was to raise a child who would one day be resuscitated as a full member of the clan who took them in. Over time, it replenished their numbers with vampires already used to clan structure, making less work for the masters.
Basically, this kid, Twyla, had a different brand of biological clock, and it was ticking. Loudly.
“She ran away?” I threw aside the covers. “Are you sure she wasn’t kidnapped?”
Vampires tended to keep their offspring on a short leash. They weren’t afforded much opportunity to mingle with other humans. The clan didn’t want them getting any ideas. They were encouraged to spend their free time with other wards instead.
And yeah. Total isolation in the age of social media was the perfect recipe for teenage rebellion. No doubt.
“She went out with another vampire-fostered girl named Belle Francis. Belle says she pulled into a fast food chain on the way home from a movie, and as soon as the car stopped in front of the drive-thru, Twyla jumped out and ran.”
“Did Belle try to stop her?” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “Or did she just watch her go?”
As someone who could remember being a teenager, compared to the semi-immortals I dealt with on a daily basis, I knew with absolute certainty there was no difference between aiding and abetting a friend and simply looking the other way while a friend engaged in questionable behavior.
“According to Belle,” Gustav rumbled, “she parked and ran after her.”
“Give us a minute.” Cass pursed her lips then muted the phone. “Well?”
“Let’s do it.” These kids, with their limited knowledge of the human world, washed up sooner rather than later from their grand adventures. If we didn’t take the case, someone else would. Failing that, the clan would go to see the Oracle who worked out of the farmers’ market to locate Twyla. Having dealt with the Oracle several times, I could say with certainty I needed the money more than she did. Her divinations might as well come printed on gold bricks. “It sounds like easy money.”
“There’s no such thing.” She chuckled and unmuted the phone. “We’ll take the job.”
“I’ll send over the details.”
“You do that.” She ended the call and sized me up with a smile. “So…your man is downstairs.”
Admitting I stayed up until Boaz let himself in, read the note I left with directions to his room, and climbed up to bed was begging for her to tease me. More than she already was.
“Boaz is a guest.” I sounded calm. Neutral even. “I imagine he’s getting ready to start his night.”
“Or he’s arguing with some chick named Grier over breakfast.” She cocked her head. “Who is that?”
“Probably someone he works with.” A knot formed in my gut as I stood and stretched. “Can I get
