mind.” She wiped her face off with her palm and resettled her glasses on her nose. “What kind of a dog is he? He’s beautiful.” Then she laughed, for Storm obviously recognized the compliment and was looking smug.
“Please don’t encourage him, Ms. Nelson, he’s vain enough already.” Rose dug her knee in behind the big dog’s shoulder and shoved, knocking him over. “And as for what kind he is—he’s a nuisance.”
Storm didn’t look at all put out by being so unceremoniously dumped. Tongue lolling, he rolled over on his back, all four feet in the air, and looked expectantly up at Vicki.
“Do you want your stomach rubbed, then?”
“Storm.” Henry’s command brought the animal off the floor, to stand looking remarkably chastened.
Vicki glanced at Henry in astonishment. What was with him?
“Perhaps,” he met Vicki’s eyes then swept his gaze over the girl and the dog, “we should get on with things.”
Vicki found herself moving toward the couch without having made a conscious decision to move. She hated it when he did that. She hated the way she responded to it. And she really hated not being sure if it was the vampire or the prince she was responding to—somehow knuckling under to a supernatural ability seemed less reprehensible than giving in to a medieval petty dictator. His undead highness and I are going to have to have a little talk about this. . . .
Tossing her bag down, she settled back against the red velvet upholstery, watching Rose curl up in the armchair and Storm throw himself to the floor at her feet. He looked splendid against the cream colored carpet but the russet fur clashed a little desperately with the crimson of the chair. Henry dropped one denim-clad leg on the arm of the couch and perched beside her, so close that, for a moment, Vicki was aware of him alone.
“It’s too soon, Vicki, you lost a lot of blood.”
She felt her face flush. It had never occurred to her that he wouldn’t want to. . . . It was what they were leading up to, wasn’t it? “They put most of it back at the hospital, Henry. I’m fine. Really.”
“I believe you. ” He smiled and she suddenly found the air available in the hallway inadequate.
He’s had over four hundred and fifty years to practice that smile, she reminded herself. Breathe.
“We have to be very careful,” he continued, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
It sounded so much like dialogue out of a bad soap opera that Vicki grinned. “Just so long as you remember I haven’t got a couple of hundred years to spare,” she told him, digging for her apartment keys, “I’ll try not to rush you.”
That had been almost four months ago, the first time they’d gone out after she’d been released from the hospital. And they still hadn’t. Vicki had tried to be patient but there were times, and with him sitting so close this was one of them, when she wanted to kick his feet out from under him and beat him to the floor. With an effort, she brought her attention back to the business at hand.
As everyone appeared to be waiting for her to speak, she arranged her face into her best “the police officer is your friend” expression and turned to Rose. “What is it you need me to help you with?”
Again, Rose glanced at Henry. Although Vicki couldn’t see the vampire’s response it seemed to reassure the younger woman for she took a deep breath, brushed her hair back off her face with trembling fingers, and said, “In the last month two members of our family have been shot.” She had to stop and swallow grief before she could continue. “We need your help, Ms. Nelson, to find the killer.”
Murder. Well, that was definitely a little more serious than Vicki had been expecting. And a double murder at that. She pushed her glasses up her nose and let sympathy soften her voice as she asked, “Have the local police not turned up any leads?”
“They don’t exactly know.”
“What
Thomas Christopher Greene