by Мишель Роуэн
"No."
"You said I'm bleeding. Did you… oh, my God…" She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "Did you lick my head?"
He snorted. "Sweetheart, I have a million comebacks for that one, but since you've probably got a brain injury, I'm going to let it pass. No, I didn't. I held a cold cloth to it. That's all."
Why didn't he bite her? She was completely incapacitated, and he was a very hungry vampire. It was completely irrational, but she almost felt insulted.
Yeah. It was irrational.
Brain injury. Definitely.
Then she remembered what he'd said a minute ago. Way more important than any discussion of potential licking.
"Malcolm's gone to get the Eye, hasn't he?"
"That is his master plan."
"And you just let him go without trying to stop him."
"Did I press rewind on the TiVo? Yeah. And now you're going to call Lenny."
"The Eye," she said weakly.
"You never told me why you had such a mercenary hard-on to get it in the first place."
"I need it."
"Why?"
He was so frustrating she was ready to scream. "Because. Just because. If I don't get it soon…"
"What?"
"Bad things will happen."
"That's a little vague." He crossed his arms. "Bad things will happen toyou ?"
She averted her gaze. "I just need it. There are no other options."
"Janie, be straight with me. If you're in trouble, maybe I can help you."
She laughed, and it made her head nearly explode. "Trouble. That is my middle name."
"Janie."
She looked up at him. Damned if he didn't look concerned for her. Maybe he was a good liar and she was too gullible. At least where Michael Quinn was concerned.
"The man I work for wants it."
He nodded. "Who do you work for?"
"I don't know his real name, so I just call him the Boss. It's an agency of sorts. Think Charlie's Angels crossed with the CIA crossed with the mafia. And throw in some black magic and a really lousy car allowance. That's us."
"Did he tell you why he wants the Eye?"
"He didn't tell me anything except who knew where it was."
"Me."
"Well, he wasn't specific, but yeah." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Got to say, though, it's been a bit of a disappointment. Thought I could grab it at the diner and be back by dinnertime. I'm going to ask for overtime pay on this one."
"How did he know I'd have the means to find it?"
"He has seers. They saw."
He scowled down at her. "You like working for this asshole?"
"It pays the bills."
"How can you be so flippant? You work for the bad guys."
"Bad guys. Good guys. Who says who's who anymore? Corruption is the new black, and it's everywhere. And no offense, but look who's talking?"
"What?" he snapped.
"Um… ex-hunter? Not exactly the most noble profession in the world, is it? You've seen both sides of the coin now. Must be great to catch up with somebody like Malcolm. Somebody just like you."
"Actually, it is."
"Whatever. Anyhow, these ropes are getting a little itchy."
"So your boss threatened to kill you if you don't bring him the Eye."
"Among other things."
"Such as?"
She stared at him for so long she felt sure he'd look away. He didn't.
"He has something on you, doesn't he?" Quinn asked. "Something he's blackmailing you with? Making you do his dirty work?"
"I prefer my work to be dirty."
He shook his head. "I don't think you do."
"Oh, and you know me so well, right?"
"What's he got on you, Janie? What's so bad that you're willing to go through all of this and not just run away?"
"I don't run away."
"Just answer the question. Tell me."
She sighed. The man was relentless.
"My sister has been missing for five years. My boss knows where she is. If I bring him the Eye, he'll tell me where to find her."
"That's it?"
She nodded.
"That can't be all it is."
"Isn't that enough?"
The look on his face told her that he didn't believe her. And why should he? She was leaving out a great big chunk of the story—the fact that the Boss would kill Angela if she failed. But telling Quinn wouldn't change anything. They were still on opposite sides of this war, and she'd rather not give him any more ammunition. How was she to know he wouldn't use it to put a bullet in her back?
She decided to try something to help change the subject. She closed her eyes and moaned. "I feel… like
I'm going to pass out."
He moved closer. "It's your head?"
No shit, Sherlock. "I… I'm seeing spots. Everything's getting a bit dim. I think I need help. He must have hit me harder than I… than I thought."
He started working on her bindings. "I should get you to a hospital."
"After we find Malcolm."
He stopped untying her and straightened up, giving her a grim look. "Faker."
"I wasn't faking. Untie me."
"I'm not just anybody you can play to get what you want, Janie."
"If you don't untie me, I'm going to start to scream."
"Go ahead." He pulled a cell phone—hercell phone—out of his pocket. "Now, let's start again. What's
Lenny's number?"
She glared at him, but he just looked back at her expectantly with his finger on the number pad.
"It's on speed dial,Braniac ."
He pressed a few buttons, then took the phone to Janie and held it to her ear.
Lenny answered after three rings.
"Janie? Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"Everything okay?"
"Best day of my life."
"What's the word?"
She glared up at Quinn. "The word is that you can let Barkley go now."
"Let him go? So you have the Eye?"
"Not yet."
"And you want me to let him go?"
"That's what I said."
"He's been sleeping for an hour. He's just waking up now. Turned back into human form. If you ask me,
looks like he can't control his lycanthropy."
"I don't really care. Let him go."
"If you say so."
"I do." She glanced at Quinn, who nodded.
"What about the Eye?"
"Forget it. It's gone." Her voice cracked on the words. "I don't know if it's even retrievable anymore."
"What?" he exclaimed. "The Boss is going to be furious."
"Yeah. I know. I'll take the blame."
"He'll hurt you if you take the blame." He paused and let out a long breath. "There's got to be a solution."
"Where are you?" she asked.
"InPhoenix . There's a motel here called theSleepytime Inn. I'm in room three."
"I'll meet you there later."
She nodded at Quinn that the call was over. He closed the phone and put it to the side. She shut her eyes and tried to think. The ropes burned, and she was now in an even fouler mood than before. The moment Quinn let her go, she was going to stake him with the nearest piece of sharp wood she could find. She didn't even care if it was imitation. He was so dead.
Quinn studied Janie. Her eyes were closed, and she didn't look happy. But at least she looked alive.
She'd never have any idea how damn close she'd come to being his first official snack as a vampire.
He felt a twinge of pain in the pit of his stomach, and it took him back to the day he was changed nearly two months ago. He'd been bled nearly dry and contaminated with the venom in a vampire's fangs that will change one from human to vampire. The shorter the bite, the less venom is passed. The longer the bite, the more blood that's drained—well, it made a sick, twisted kind of sense. He'd been infected with vampirism. Typically the vampire "sire"
would then give the fledgling some of his or her own blood to counterbalance the venom. Live through that andwhammo , welcome toVampireCity . Don't get enough blood or get none at all, as was his case, and you will die a slow and painful death.
The stomach cramps were the first sign. Then the pain crawled through the rest of your body until you could barely function. Your only thought then is to drink blood. From anywhere or anybody. And it didn't really matter how you got it.
At the time he'd gone in search of his hunter friends. He'd wanted to die, because becoming the thing he'd always hunted, the thing he'd always assumed was evil, was worse to him than being dead. But then he'd run into Sarah, the same woman he'd tried to kill twice, and she wouldn't let him die. She'd dragged him, literally, to see her boyfriend whose blood was strong enough to get him through to the next day and beyond. It had been so strong that he'd gotten a fast-forward on many vampire traits. He'd lost his reflection quicker than normal. He needed less blood on a daily basis than a fledgling who would have ingested normal strength blood. His fangs grew almost immediately. He also knew he had the master vampire to thank for his increased strength. All these things could take months, if not years, for the regular, run-of-the-mill vamp to experience.
Yeah, he was so lucky. Right.
The ache in his stomach left as soon as it had arrived, and he decided to ignore it for a while longer. He didn't feel so hot, though. He hated to admit it, but he'd have to seek out a vampire bar soon. He couldn't go much longer without some of the red stuff.
Just the thought of it made his mouth water. How could he be so disgusted and so hungered by the same thing?
The screwed-up dichotomy of his life.
Ever since being turned, he'd felt like a freak of nature. Those hunters back at the Burger King the other night had thought him just another bloodsucking freak.
He had to agree with them on that point.
And that's what he saw when he looked into Janie's eyes. She hated what he was. And he didn't blame her in the least.
He'd thought Janie was just a bitch. A bitch with a wicked body and a mouth he wanted to explore intimately. He'd thought she was cold as ice and willing to kill at the drop of a hat for whoever paid her the biggest dollar.
But there was something else. He hated thinking that Janie's younger sister was missing, but his gut told him there was more to the story. After all, couldn't she simply hire a private investigator to locate a missing person without having to jump through hoops on a dangerous assignment?
He remembered Angela being a sweet little kid who was always smiling. Janie wouldn't lie about her sister. She couldn't fake the concern in her eyes.
She didn't want to tell him what threat this boss of hers had made if she didn't return with the Eye. He was willing to bet it was severe—that Janie's life was in jeopardy.
He shook the thoughts away and looked at her again. Then he began to work on the knots he'd tied.
"Thanks," he said softly.
She frowned. "For what?"
"For letting Barkley go." He swallowed hard. "He's a good guy. Got his own problems. It would be par for the course if I'd gotten him killed. I always screw up everything."
"Always?"
"Always. You should have asked my father. He thought I was a waste of skin. A total disappointment to him, right to the end."
"I only remember meeting him once, but my first impression was that he was a jerk."
"Didn't make him wrong. Malcolm was the only one who ever was nice to me back then. I owe that guy big-time."
"The guy who knocked me out and told you to drain me."
His mouth quirked. "Yeah, that one."
Her frown deepened, and she searched his face. She rubbed her wrists after the rope fell away. "I need to find that map. You can either help me or you can stand in my way."
He studied her for a moment. "Angela's really been missing for so long?"
She cringed and nodded. "I thought for a second that your werewolf friend might be serious about being psychic."
"The redhead from his dreams? You think that Angela's the one he was talking about?"
"Probably just wishful thinking." The expression on her pretty face hardened. "So you're saying that your long-lost best bud Malcolm didn't even tell you where he was going? Why would he leave you behind like that?"
He didn't reply.
She tensed. "Hedid . Hedid tell you where he was going, didn't he? He must have. You have to tell me,
Quinn, where he—" She stood up in one fast movement, then swayed on her feet and brought her hands to her head. "Oh, my God."
"Take it easy, Janie." He caught her before she hit the ground.
He eased her gently down to the dusty floor and stroked the hair off her forehead, tracing his thumb over smooth, pale skin.
"Brain hurts," she said, keeping her eyes closed.
"Yeah. I guess your head isn't as hard as I thought it was. Who knew?" He moved back a little. "We should get you to the hospital."
"No, don't stop. That feels good." She grabbed his hand and brought it back to her forehead.
Who was he to argue? He continued to stroke her forehead, pushing errant strands of blond hair from her beautiful face. She closed her eyes and sighed.
He stilled for a moment. "I do charge sixty bucks an hour, I'll have you know."
"Money well spent."
She looked so innocent lying there. Not helpless like she'd looked before when she was unconscious and he'd almost devoured her. This was different.
At that moment all he wanted to do was to make her smile again, like she had on the drive over there.
The smile that was bright enough to light something up inside him that had been dark for a long time.
She opened her eyes and reached up to take his hand, holding it against her cheek and with her other hand, reached up to run her fingers through his hair, just staring up at him without saying anything. Her hand felt warm against his.
The cell phone rang and he jumped.
Moment over.
She reached for her phone and brought it up to her ear.
"Yes?" she said wearily. She closed her eyes and pressed her eyelids together. "Fine. Hang on."
She pulled the phone away and looked up at Quinn. "The werewolf wants to talk to you."
He nodded. He probably wanted to say good-bye. Nice guy, that Barkley.
"Barkley," he said. "You okay?"
"I don't know if I'd say that exactly. I'm finding it hard to hold one form. One minute I'm a werewolf, and the next I'm human again. Is there some sort of lunar eclipse scheduled that I don't know about?"
"Not that I know of."
"Anyhow, I'm calling because I realized something. When I'm asleep in wolf form, I can totally channel my dreams into visions. I can basically ask to see something and then I see it."
"LikeMonday Night Football ?"
"No. Although that would be really cool. But I'm talking about that dream that had to do with Janie. Her necklace, remember?"
"Yeah." He glanced over at Janie, who hadn't gotten up from the floor yet. She lay there with her eyes closed again. His gaze moved down to the necklace in question. "What about it?"
"I realized why the necklace set off my powers. It was made by somebody from my pack. She and her pups moved down toMexico years ago, but she always stayed in touch. The woman weaves actual werewolf hair into the pieces of jewelry she makes. She called them were-looms."
"And?"
"The redhead," he paused. "I get the weird feeling that she's related to Janie. By blood. That's why they wear the same necklace, maybe. When I was dreaming a minute ago, everything became a whole lot clearer."
"What did you see?"
"She's in Vegas. The redhead's in Vegas. Damn, she's gorgeous. The odd thing is, there's a sort of blank on her soul."
"You can actually see that?"
"Not see it. Feel it, man. I'm psychic."
"So you keep telling me."
"Despite this blank aspect, I'm seeing that she got serious psychic abilities, too, and add in the werewolf hair necklace, and bang… I've got a connection. I'm thinking me and her are soul mates and her soul is calling out to mine. I always thought I'd hook up with another lycanthrope, but I'm willing to experiment extensively to find the right woman as my lifelong mate."
"Focus, Barkley. Please."
"She's in Vegas, and she's using her psychic ability to win at the tables. A woman with questionable morals. I'm falling in love more by the minute."
"Vegas," Quinn repeated, and Janie's eyes snapped open.
"Yeah. Listen, me and Lenny are heading out for dinner, and then we're going to hit a strip club. Except for the fact that he was willing to kill me at Janie's order, the guy is actually really cool. He's read me some of his poetry. It's… it's interesting. He's got a serious thing for Janie, though, just to let you know."
"Why would I care about that?"
"Oh, no reason. Just the fact that she's blond, gorgeous, and previously gaga for your sorry ass."
"Previouslyis the important word in that sentence. And besides, how do you even know that?"
"Haven't you been listening to anything I've said? I'mpsychic ."
Quinn rolled his eyes. "So now what?"
"We can hook up tomorrow."
"And do what?"
"And go find the hot redhead in Vegas, of course. Duh. Anyhow, see you tomorrow."
He hung up.
Quinn let out a long breath.
"Why did you say Vegas?" Janie asked.
"It's not too far away, and Wayne Newton puts on a great show."
"That's where the Boss told me to meet him to hand over the Eye."
Quinn nodded. That would make sense. Obviously this rat bastard knew where Angela was and was keeping that information away from her until she came through with the goods. He wanted to come right out and tell her what he knew—such as it was. But something stopped him.
No, not yet.
"He can't have it," he said evenly.
She stared at him. "Anyone ever call you a heartless bastard?"
"Many times."
"Why the hell do you want it? What was Malcolm saying about it granting a wish? What would your wish be?"
