“Yeah.” I tore off a chunk of muffin, covered it in egg, and ate it. Ladylike, that was me
“Werewolves are no more intuitive when it comes to vampires than humans,” he said softly. “So how is it you knew I was a vampire, let alone one who was more than two centuries old?”
I shrugged. “My flatmate is a guardian, and I work with guardians. You pick up on those things.”
One look at his expression suggested he wasn’t buying the lie
“Can I ask another question?”
“You can ask. Won’t guarantee I’ll answer it.”
His smile crinkled his eyes. Not only was he polite, but he had a sense of humor. Amazing
“You are not the… shall we say, typical?… shape of a werewolf.”
“Meaning I’ve actually got curves and boobs?” Boobs that had been my saving grace when it came to job- getting in the past. Despite the fact it was illegal to discriminate, few people wanted werewolves in their employ simply because the moon cycle meant wolves were away one week in four. But, thanks to said boobs, few people ever guessed what I was
His gaze drifted upward. “Your hair is red, yet I thought there were only four packs—silver, black, golden, and brown.”
I nodded. “Most people think that, simply because the number of red packs is extremely small and they’re all somewhat isolated. They originated in Ireland, then migrated to the center of Australia. They mostly still live there today.”
“Ireland and Central Australia are two vastly different locations.”
Having visited Ireland eight years ago, I could certainly attest to that. I’d never seen so much rain in my life —at least until I’d gotten to Melbourne
“They were chased out during the race riots of 1795. England was using Australia as a penal colony at the time, but there was plenty of land to be had so that’s where they went.” I shrugged. “I guess after the chill of Ireland, the heat of Central Australia was a dream.”
“At that time, they could have had their pick of locations. Why go to a desert?”
“Who knows?” Not me, that was for sure. Pack history had never been my strong point. But then, they hadn’t exactly gone overboard to teach us—after all, why would they bother when they had every intention of kicking us out once we hit adulthood?
Some wolf packs were tolerant of half-breeds. Ours wasn’t. The main reason we’d been allowed to survive at all was the fact that our mother was the daughter of the pack’s alpha—and had threatened to walk away from the pack if we were sentenced to death
And yet when we had finally left, it had been as much of a relief for her as it had been for us. She loved us, we both knew that, but she’d made it very clear that she never wanted to see us again
That decision had hurt—still hurt—and yet I could understand her need to regain a normal pack life. It couldn’t have been easy raising pups who were unwanted by everyone but her
“And the red pack are not lean, as other wolves are?” my grubby vampire asked
“Mostly, no.”
He nodded, his gaze rolling languidly down my body, somehow making me feel like I was drowning in sunshine. Which was a weird sensation to be getting from a creature of the night
Though, to be honest, vamps generally weren’t the ice blocks humans thought them to be. They only got cold if they weren’t feeding enough
I cleared my throat. “I wouldn’t do that.”
Amusement danced in his dark eyes. “Why not?”
“You know why not.”
The amusement touched his lips, and my breath caught somewhere in my throat. Damn, when had dead men become so delicious?
“I wouldn’t mind.”
Well, actually, neither would I, but I had principles. At least until the moon fever
“Because they left me for dead. I doubt whether they’d bother going back to see if they succeeded.”
“And you are naked and covered in mud because… ?”
“I was staked naked to the ground between a mound of mulch and a mound of topsoil.”
I stared at him, not sure if he was being serious or not. “You were staked out in a garden center?”
“Apparently so. Luckily for me, they decided not to put a stake through my heart, but were simply content to watch the rising sun burn me.”
“Which it obviously didn’t.”
He smiled again, but this time there was something ferocious about it. “The good thing about being over a few hundred years old is a certain amount of immunity to the sun. Something my attackers obviously didn’t know. When dawn rose, I began screaming. They panicked and ran.”
Suggesting, perhaps, that the men who’d attacked him were new to the vampire-hunting game. I leaned against the door frame and placed my half-empty plate on the dusty wooden floor. “Why didn’t you just take over their minds and run them off that way?”
“I tried. They were blocked.” He eyed me for a minute. “Much the same as you are.”
I frowned. Rhoan had told me there was a gang of humans cruising the city in search of vamps to hunt down, but I was under the impression they were only teenagers. It was doubtful they’d be strong enough to overwhelm
“Were they young?”
“No. Men, all of them, at least thirty.”
That didn’t sound good. “Perhaps you’d better go over to the Directorate. If there’s a second gang active in the city, they’ll need to know.”
“I cannot.”
“Why? My flatmate might not be back for days, and this really should be reported.”
“Rhoan asked me to see him, and only him.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t know my flatmate? And if you did, why didn’t you ask for him by name last night?”
“Because last night I couldn’t actually remember his name, just his address. And I never did say whether I knew him or not.”
Typical vampire. I’m sure the half that weren’t salesmen were damn lawyers sometime in their lives. “Does that mean you’ve seen him recently?”
“Yes. Before those men caught and staked me out. That is how I knew this address.”
Then maybe this vamp could help me find Rhoan if Jack and the Directorate wouldn’t. “When was this?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure.”
Damn. “So where did you see him?”
“I can’t say.”
“Then why did those men feel inclined to stake you out?”
“Something else I can’t remember.”
“There seems to be an awful lot you can’t remember,” I muttered, stuck between belief and disbelief
“A regrettable side effect of being kicked several times in the head.”
My gaze traveled to his forehead. There did seem to be shadowing under the mud, which might have meant bruising. “Have you got a name?”
“I have.”
A smile twitched my lips. “Can you share it, or is it lost to the fog as well?”
“Quinn O’Conor.”
“I’m Riley Jenson.”
He leaned forward and held out his hand. I clasped it automatically, which was a stupid thing to do, really. He could have so easily hauled me out of the doorway had he intended me harm
But the only thing he did was wrap his long, strong fingers around mine and squeeze lightly. And with the
