to tell him, but how do you tell your sweetie that people are trying to kill you? Not in a room full of people. Maybe in the car.
“Yes, there is. You’ve got that tension between your eyebrows that means you’re trying not to frown.”
“No, I’m not.”
He smoothed his finger between my eyes. “Yes, you are.”
I glared at him. “Am not.”
He smiled. “Now you are frowning.” His face sobered. “What’s wrong?”
I sighed. I stepped closer to him, not for romance but for privacy. Vampires had incredibly good hearing, and I didn’t want Robert to know. He’d tattle to Jean-Claude. If I wanted Jean-Claude to know, I’d tell him myself.
“It was Edward on the phone.”
“What does he want?” Richard was frowning now, too.
“Someone tried to hire him to kill me.”
A look of total astonishment blossomed on his face, and I was glad his back was to the room. He closed his mouth, opened it, and finally said, “I would say you’re kidding, but I know you’re not. Why would anyone want to kill you?”
“There are plenty of people who would like to see me dead, Richard. But none of them have the kind of money that’s being put out for the hit.”
“How can you be so calm about this?”
“Would it solve anything if I had hysterics?”
He shook his head. “It’s not that.” He seemed to think for a second. “It’s that you’re not outraged that someone’s trying to kill you. You just accept it, almost like it’s normal. It isn’t normal.”
“Assassins aren’t normal, even for me, Richard,” I said.
“Just vampires, zombies, and werewolves,” he said.
I smiled. “Yeah.”
He hugged me tightly and whispered, “Loving you can be very scary sometimes.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my face against his chest. I closed my eyes, and for just a moment I breathed in the smell of him. It was more than his aftershave; it was the smell of his skin, his warmth. Him. For just a moment, I sank against him and let it all go. I let his arms be my shelter. I knew that a well-placed bullet would destroy it all, but for a few seconds, I felt safe. Illusion is sometimes all that keeps us sane.
I pushed away from him with a sigh. “Let’s give our regrets to Catherine and get out of here.”
He touched my cheek gently, looking into my eyes. “We can stay if you want.”
I nestled my cheek against his hand and shook my head. “If the shit hits the fan tomorrow, I don’t want to spend tonight at a party. I’d rather go back to my apartment and cuddle.”
He flashed me that smile that warmed me down to my toes. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
I smiled back because I couldn’t not smile back. “I’ll go tell Catherine.”
“I’ll get the coats,” he said.
We did our various tasks and left early. Catherine gave me a very knowing smile. I wished she was right. Leaving early to jump Richard’s bones beat the heck out of the truth. Monica watched us leave. I knew that she and Robert would report back to Jean-Claude. Fine. He knew I was dating Richard. I hadn’t lied to anybody. Monica was a lawyer at Catherine’s firm—frightening thought all on its own—so she had a legitimate reason to be invited. Jean-Claude hadn’t arranged it, but I didn’t like being spied on, no matter how it came about.
The walk to the car was nerve-racking. Every shadow wassuddenly a potential hiding place. Every noise a footstep. I didn’t draw my gun, but my hand ached to do it. “Dammit,” I said, softly. The numbness was wearing off. I wasn’t sure it was an improvement.
“What is it?” Richard asked. He was suddenly scanning the darkness, not looking at me while he talked. His nostrils flared just a little, and I realized he was scenting the wind.
“Just jumpy. I don’t see anyone out here, but I’m suddenly looking too damn hard.”
“I don’t smell anyone close to us, but they could be downwind. The only gun I smell is yours.”
“You can smell my gun?”
He