considerate."
"In other words," I said dryly, "the offer sucks, but you'll make do."
Humor touched his luscious lips. "You are very adept at reading people, aren't you?"
Only nonhuman races, and only because of what I was. I shrugged, and sat, cross-legged, on the safe side of the doorway. Even though he was a stranger, and probably up to no good, he was at least someone to talk to. While the lone wolf image wasn't one that fitted most wolves, it
did
apply to both Rhoan and me. We'd grown up in an environment that was hostile to our presence--to our very existence--and had become used to keeping to ourselves. Which meant, of course, that the art of making friends easily wasn't a skill either of us had. God, it had taken me forever to drop my guard and let Kelly in a little. We'd known each other for three years, and despite the fact that I called her a friend--a good friend--she still had no idea that Rhoan and I were related, let alone twins.
And while I had two mates I saw regularly, they weren't exactly friends. Melbourne could be a cold city when you were basically alone.
His gaze slid down my barely covered bits--a touch that wasn't a touch, but left me burning. No surprise there. The moon heat, which was what we wolves called the weeklong phase in which the need to mate became almost all-consuming, had started. And while it didn't affect me anywhere near as strongly as full-blooded wolves, the burning need for sex was still hard to deny.
And if the moon-spun hunger was that strong already, I was in for a rough but exciting week.
"So," I said, trying to shake off images of mating with this vamp right there in the hall--and trying not to think of the delicious possibility of shocking Mrs. Russel's puritan sensibilities. "You obviously didn't come to your senses during the night."
"Well, that depends on how you define 'coming to your senses.'" Warmth sparkled in his dark eyes. "If you're referring to the fact that I'm still here, then obviously not. If you mean did I regain some memories, then yes."
"So you remember why you're here?"
"I told you that last night."
That he had. I was just curious as to whether he'd changed his story. "And as I said, if it's something urgent, just go to the Directorate. Any of the guardians will be able to help you."
"It's your flatmate I must see."
I speared some bacon, and dipped it into the yolk. "You another of his boyfriends?"
He jerked back so quickly anyone would have thought I'd hit him. "No, I am not."
I grinned. "No offense meant. It's just that many vampires who are older than a century or two tend to swing between the sexes."
He studied me, face expressionless, eyes deep, dark pools the unwary could easily get lost in. "You are a werewolf, are you not?"
"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