Lady & the Vamp ib-3

by Мишель Роуэн

  He wasn't ready to answer that question. Not yet.

  His second option was something that caused him even more apprehension.

  It was no secret that when Janie had been a kid she'd had a crush on him. All he remembered was a little blond girl with freckles who used to play with her dolls. She also took care of her adorable younger sister, Angela, quite a bit and tried to keep her from watching what he and Peter were up to. Playing

  Hunter and Vampire like some kids played Cowboys and Indians. She'd protected her sister from seeing that, but he remembered catching her watching from around a corner.

  So she'd liked him back then. If he went with this plan, he was banking on herstill liking him. At least enough so that he could charm her into helping him. Or just going away. Either would be good.

  He almost laughed. Sure. He was a full-fledged, blood-drinking vampire. He'd been involved in her brother's death. He looked like hell and felt even worse.

  A total catch.

  But it was worth a shot.

  "So," Quinn began, a tight smile fixed on his face. "Have you been toArizona before?"

  She eyed him warily. "Seriously?"

  "What?"

  "I'm not really much for small talk."

  "That's not small talk. It's an attempt at conversation, since we've got a bit of a drive ahead. Now, if you'd rather play a car game to pass the time, I'm always up for 'I Spy with My Little Eye.'" He grinned.

  She didn't. "Just drive."

  What a bitch.

  Maybe he could just knock her out. If she left him with no other choice…

  No. The whole hitting-a-girl thing had never gone over with him very well. Even if the girl could kick his ass.

  "We're headed toGoodlaw ," he told her after another minute.

  "That's where the Eye is?"

  "That's what I think."

  She frowned. "You mean you don't know?"

  "Not for sure. No."

  She let out another sigh; this time it was shaky.

  "Who sent you for it?" he asked.

  She crossed her arms over her white tank top. The edge of her shoulder holster peeked out past her blue jacket. "That doesn't matter."

  "You don't look very happy, Janie. Is everything okay?"

  She actually laughed a little at that, but it didn't sound friendly. "Yeah, life's a dream. Every day's a gift.

  Keep your eyes on the road, cowboy."

  Quinn clutched the steering wheel so tightly his hands began to go numb. He couldn't help but cast a dark look at her, which earned him another humorless laugh as she looked back at him.

  "That's more like it. I wasn't buying the whole chatty thing you had going on." She eyed him slowly, from his worn jeans up to his dark sunglasses. "So, how's being a creature of darkness suiting you, anyhow?

  Should I have my wooden stake at the ready?"

  "For anyone else, it wouldn't be necessary. But for you, Janie? I think it's a reasonable precaution."

  "Bitten any interesting necks lately?"

  "I don't do that."

  "Sure you don't."

  He glanced at her again and noticed she was playing with the side of her neck. Her long blond hair swept away enough that he noticed the fading red marks there.

  "Who bit you?" he asked, feeling tension creeping up his shoulders.

  "A vampire."

  "Obviously. Are you okay?"

  She brushed her hair over her neck to cover it. "Never better."

  Quinn forced away the concern that came immediately to him. She wasn't the cute, harmless kid he used to know. She was a twenty-five-year-oldMerc who was standing in the way of the only thing in the universe he wanted and who'd already proven with thetranq dart last time they went face to face that she didn't mind pulling the trigger if he was at the receiving end of it. "Well, you probably deserved it."

  Her eyes narrowed. "And he deserved the stake I put through his heart. See? Everybody's happy."

  He sighed. So much for the "Charm Janie" plan. Looked like her crush was long dead. Not that he blamed her.

  "You were a cute kid back in the day," he said.

  "Thanks so much," she replied, dryly.

  "I remember all those dolls you and your sister had. You used to dress them up and put them around the table. Make up stories about them. I always thought you'd grow up to be a writer or something."

  "Writer," she said. "Paid assassin. Not much of a difference, is there?"

  "And what did you like to be called? Was it the Lady of the Manor?"

  She rolled her eyes. "I read a lot back then. I was a stupid kid."

  "No, you weren't. You had a great imagination."

  "Peter didn't think so. He always made fun of me."

  "Peter was your older brother. It was his solemn duty to make fun of you."

  She leaned back in the seat. "That was a long time ago. Things were different."

  "True." His mind drifted for a second back to a much simpler time. "I just remembered something."

  "Stop the presses."

  He shot her a look and then shook it off to give her a forced grin instead. "You were the only one who ever got my jokes. Remember the one about the penguins in the bathtub?"

  "Not even remotely."

  He couldn't stop now. "Two penguins are sitting in a bathtub. One penguin looks at the other and says,

  'Can you pass me the soap?' The second penguin says, 'What do I look like, a penguin?'"

  She fixed him with a blank look. "That's the stupidest joke I've ever heard. It doesn't even make any sense."

  "That's what's so funny about it. I remember you laughed so hard, milk shot out of your nose."

  Frankly, he'd thought it was gross at the time, but now he could see the humor. Didn't even seem like the same person. Could somebody change that drastically, from laughing at stupid penguin jokes to being a trained killer?

  Well,he could.

  He watched her warily. She didn't say anything, but suddenly her eyes got a faraway look as if she was remembering what it was like back in those days. She looked at him and then… then she did something he really wished she hadn't done.

  "Stupid joke," she said again.

  And then she smiled.

  A true, genuine, thousand-watt smile that lit up her gorgeous face and did something strange to his insides.

  He suddenly wondered what he could feel pounding at the back of his eyeballs and then realized it was his heartbeat, which had increased to double speed.

  "Yeah." She continued to smile and shook her head. "Those were some good days."

  He swallowed. His mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. Then he cleared his tightening throat and shifted positions in the seat. It was damn hot in the truck, and he pulled at the constrictive T-shirt material around his throat.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  Her smile slowly disappeared, and she turned to look at the road. She licked her lips, and he found himself unable to look away from her mouth.

  "Hey, watch it," she snapped.

  He turned his attention back on the road and swerved out of the oncoming traffic lane.

  Focus, Quinn, he told himself.Snap out of it.

  Janie Parker wasn't some beautiful girl he was thinking about taking out for dinner and a movie. She was the enemy, and if he forgot that, then he was going to be in big trouble.

  This was not good. Not good. Being in such close quarters with Quinn was making her feel very uncomfortable.

  She could drive with Lenny for hours. Days even, and she didn't feel like this. Other than his cologne being a little on the overpowering side, the big guy was a decent travel companion. He made conversation about innocuous things like TV shows or the weather. Even when he recited his poems, she didn't feel as awkward as she did driving with Quinn.

  She just wanted this over with. Get the Eye. Take it to the Boss. Save her sister. And then turn her back on Quinn and never see him again.

  Ever.

  It was somewhat iro
nic that she'd started dating the guy who'd tricked her into working for the Company because of his slight resemblance to Quinn. With that dark blond hair and broad shoulders, and… she glanced over at Quinn to see his biceps flex as he turned the wheel. She shook her head.

  She'd dreamed about every inch of him. Well, every inch that she'd seen. For the rest she'd just used her imagination.

  She had a really great imagination.

  It was obvious that he hated her. She could see the disgust in his eyes for what she'd become. The thought filled her with anger, but she repressed it. She was doing what she had to do. She didn't care what anybody thought.

  Quinn pulled off to the side of the road and got out of the car without saying anything. The area wasn't exactly well populated. It was desert for miles in every direction. She could see the peaks of theSuperstitionMountains in the distance. The sky was blue and bright, and she knew it made his eyes water, because she watched him reach under his dark sunglasses to rub them. BlazingArizona midafternoon . Not a good place for your average vamp.

  She opened the passenger side door. "So where's the Eye?"

  He shot her a look, as if she were an annoying child who asked the same question over and over again.

  "Tell me what you want it for," he said.

  "I don't know or care what this thing is, but it's a pain in the ass so far. Let's just find it and get it over with."

  He frowned. "You don't even know what it is?"

  She shook her head.

  "So you're working for somebody."

  "You should be a detective. A vampire detective. Is that a little cliché?"

  "The Eye is a very powerful thing. Whoever has you after it is up to no good."

  She rolled her eyes. "I don't really care."

  "You don't care that if you get it and hand it over you might be doing the wrong thing?"

  "The wrong thing? Since when are you such an expert on what's right and wrong? You're a damn vampire now."

  He ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of his fangs and gave her a look that made her think he wanted to bite her.

  "The Eye will grant one wish, once every thousand years."

  "I already told you I don't care what it is or what it does. But I want it now."

  "Tell me why."

  "Because—" She pressed her lips together and glared at him. She didn't want to tell him about her sister.

  It was none of his damn business and would only complicate matters.

  Her cell phone rang.

  She smiled at him and held up a finger. "Hold that thought, handsome." She moved a little away and pulled her phone out of her pocket, flipped it open, and held it to her ear.

  "Parker here."

  "Parker." The Boss's voice slid across the line, sending a chill down her neck that made her cringe.

  "Hey there, Boss." She moved farther away from Quinn and walked a few more yards off the side of the road. "What's up?"

  "What is your status? Have you the Eye in your possession yet?"

  "Don't you already know? I thought you used your seers to keep tabs on us."

  "Of the two seers I have under contract, one is on vacation and the other… passed away just this morning."

  "Passed away?"

  "I killed her. She displeased me by producing very uninteresting visions."

  She hated the seers. Strange little women in black clothes who sat in dark rooms predicting the future or seeing the present. The Boss used to love his seers, but he'd been getting even more specific about what he wanted from his employees. Nobody was safe at the Company anymore.

  When she didn't say anything for a moment, he continued. "Is there a problem?"

  She licked her suddenly dry lips. "No, no problems. I have the vampire leading me to it right now."

  "You haven't killed him yet?"

  Was that his answer for everything?

  "Well, if I killed him, how could he lead me to the Eye? Then I'd have to raise his corpse, and he'd go all vampire zombie on me, and as you know, that never turns out very well."

  He sighed, a dry, hoarse little sound that would have made her feel worried for the overall health of anyone else.

  "Have I entrusted this mission to the wrong person, Parker? Are you going to make me follow through with my threat toward your beloved sister?"

  His tone made her feel more angry than scared. "No. Everything is fine. It won't be long now."

  "I will be inLas Vegas tomorrow and will contact you when I arrive. You will meet me there and bring the Eye. Don't fail me, Parker."

  "I won't."

  The phone went dead. Janie had the urge to hurl it at the nearest cactus, but destroying electronic gadgetry never solved anything. It felt really good, but it wasn't the answer.

  She turned back to Quinn, who now had his back to her. She marched up beside him.

  "Let's go." There was no more friendliness in her voice. Not that there had been before. In fact, if she'd been remotely friendly before this, lame penguin joke or not, then it was a mistake.

  Taken by surprise, he shoved something back into his pocket. A piece of paper.

  She frowned. "What's that?"

  "Nothing."

  "Show me."

  He turned to look directly at her. Standing next to her, he was about four inches taller than Janie. She was five-six, and she was wearing low-heeled boots. The hot sun reflected in his black sunglasses.

  He didn't make a move to show her the paper.

  "Don't try me, Quinn." Eyeing him, she flipped open her cell phone and pressed a number, then held it to her ear.

  Quinn's eyes narrowed and his expression grew colder, but his Adam's apple worked as he swallowed hard. No sweat, though. She didn't have him sweating yet. Vampires weren't affected by the heat. They maintained their body temperature in extreme heat or cold, but they would sweat if nervous or scared… or turned on.

  She'd made a few vamps sweat. And it wasn't because of her bedroom eyes.

  After a couple of rings, she was greeted with a "Yello?"

  "Lenny, it's me."

  "Do you have it yet?"

  "No, not yet."

  "Uh. There's a little problem with the wolf." Lenny sounded nervous.

  She cleared her throat and kept her face neutral. "What is it?"

  "He… uh… sort of shifted."

  "Shifted?"

  "He turned into a big black dog. Wolf. Whatever. Anyhow, he said he felt sick, so I pulled the car off the highway. He ran to the side of the road, puked, and then shifted."

  "Great. Just great. What's happening now?"

  Quinn frowned at her.

  "He's curled up in the back seat. I can hear him snoring. He reminds me of a dog I had when I was a kid. BigNewfoundland . Like the ones you see on the ski hills that have the whiskey in a little barrel around their necks? Except those are SaintBernards . Like in that movieBeethoven . They made a ton of sequels for that movie."

  She looked directly at Quinn to make sure he was paying attention. "Lenny, Quinn isn't cooperating with me. I think you should cut off one of the werewolf's fingers."

  She was lying. They didn't do torture, nor did she want to start now. But Quinn didn't have to know that.

  Besides, in wolf form he wouldn't really have fingers.

  "But he's a big cute wolf dog." Lenny sounded a little distressed by the suggestion. "I can't hurt a dog."

  "Janie—" Quinn's voice sounded strained. "Just hang up."

  She put her hand over the receiver. "Sorry, what?"

  "Hang up the phone."

  She held out her hand. "Show me the paper."

  His jaw clenched, and he gave her a look that would send lesser women running away. She didn't even back up a step but felt the blood throbbing in her head.

  Stress. She definitely didn't need this. Why couldn't everyone just cooperate? It would make life so much easier.

  He didn't say another word but instead thrust his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out the ratty
piece of paper. She snatched it away from him.

  "Thank you," she said. And then in the phone, "Never mind, Lenny. You two just… I don't know… go on a long walk or something. Buy a Frisbee. That should keep you busy for hours."

  He let out a long breath. "Oh, good. Thanks Janie."

  She turned away from Quinn and whispered into the receiver. "Lenny, do not get soft on me."

  "I'm not. I'm…" He let out another long breath. "He's so cute! You should see him."

  She hung up.

  Her partner was adoofus . With an affinity for the canine population. Call the SPCA and give the man a medal.

  She looked down at the piece of paper.

  It was a letter dated eight years ago from somebody named Malcolm Price and addressed to Quinn's father. It rambled on for a couple of paragraphs about hunter business. The last paragraph had every fifth word highlighted, including the word "Eye," some numbers, and the words "garden" and "cross."

  She raised an eyebrow at Quinn. "You know,sudoku is a fun game to play, too."

  "It's not a game."

  "Then what is it?"

  "Directions."

  "To the Eye?"

  "Janie, you're blond, but you aren't dumb. What do you think?"

  "I think I'm going to stake you and leave your body for the coyotes to have for dinner. But that's plan B."

  "They're coordinates. ToGoodlaw . Where we're standing right now. And the words… it's a game

  Malcolm and me used to play. He was like an uncle to me. He'd send me letters when he was on tour with the other hunters. My father read all of my mail, and Malcolm wanted to see if we could get anything past him."

  "Did it work?"

  "Yes. Sometimes I think that my father never even read my mail and just opened it to remind me of who was in charge. I think Malcolm sent this letter to my father knowing that I'd see it and decode it. It's a message for me."

  "Where's this Malcolm guy now?"

  "He's dead."

  She nodded, trying to push away the distracting moment of empathy she was having for Quinn. Then she looked around at emptiness for miles around. "I see. What great clues he's given you, too. Definitely narrows down the search. Why don't I start looking over by that big anthill over there, and you get to work on that lovely thatch of cacti?"