“Where did you go last night?” he whispered.
Sid blinked, the unexpected question like a slap in the face. “What?” she asked, and shoved at his chest to no effect.
Aden straightened and stared down at her, every inch of him cold and arrogant, the seductive lover gone. “For whom are you working?”
She shoved harder and stumbled slightly on her spike heels when he abruptly let her go. “I’m not working for anyone, you ass,” she snapped. “I’ve been trying to tell you for days why I’m here, but you’ve been so busy being Mr. Important that you haven’t taken the time to listen.”
Aden closed the space between them again, looming over her, his size suddenly more threatening than sexy. “What did you hear last night? And whom did you tell?”
Sidonie had grown up with two older brothers. She’d been dealing with bigger males all of her life. She rammed her shoulder against Aden’s chest, trying to force him to move, but he only laughed, and she felt her anger boiling up. Most people never saw it, but she had a temper. She didn’t hold grudges and she couldn’t hold a mad for long, but when her anger finally bubbled to the surface, it came up hot.
“Move,” she demanded.
He gave her a gloating smile and said, “No.”
With a shriek of anger, Sidonie swung her hand back in a fist aimed at his smug face, just as she would have one of her brothers. But Aden caught her hand and glared down at her.
“You don’t want to do that.”
“Then let go of me.”
“Who’d you talk to last night?”
“No one, damn it. I live alone. There’s no one . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“What?” he demanded, correctly interpreting her hesitation.
Sid’s thoughts were racing. Professor Dresner. It had to be. She remembered Dresner’s reaction as soon as she’d mentioned Aden leaving, how she’d pumped Sid for information, then almost immediately cut off the conversation.
“What happened last night?” she whispered, looking up at him. “Did somebody die?”
He frowned, and she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, “A lot of vampires died. None of them were mine.”
Sid nearly choked on the guilt clogging her throat. Had those vampires died because of her? “What about Silas?” she asked.
Aden’s gaze narrowed dangerously. “What do you know about Silas?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I heard the name when I was leaving last night. Bastien was on the phone.”
“And you told someone. Who was it?”
Sid didn’t want to say. Surely she owed Professor Dresner that much. They weren’t exactly friends, and it sounded as if she’d betrayed Sid’s trust, but they were both human. Didn’t that count for something? Some shred of loyalty?
“Someone warned Silas last night,” Aden growled. “You want to know who’s really responsible for all those dead vampires? Look to your friend who sent word that we were coming, and to Silas who ran, knowing what I would do to the vampires left behind.”
Sid nodded faintly. Somehow everything had gotten turned around. She’d started this to save lives, and now it seemed she’d cost them instead. Or Dresner had. But wasn’t she responsible, too?
“I’ve been working with someone,” she whispered. Aden’s hand gripped her hip once more, his fingers tight. “She’s sort of an expert on vampire behavior.”
“A human?”
“Yes. She’s a professor at the university. She’s the one who told me about that bar where I met Travis.”
“Her name?”
Sid frowned up at him worriedly. “What are you going to do if I tell you?”
“I’m going to talk to her.”
“That’s all?”
“Depends, doesn’t it? What would you humans do to someone who’d set up an ambush that resulted in several deaths?”
“I guess she’d go to jail, conspiracy to murder or something.”
Aden shrugged. “Vampire justice is somewhat less ambiguous.”
“I’ll tell you who she is, but only if you take me with you when you go talk to her.”
“You’re hardly in a position to make demands,” he growled, tugging her closer until she was flush with his hard body. And he was hard . . . all over. Damn it.
“That’s my offer,” she said stubbornly. “Take it or leave it.”
Aden regarded her silently, and Sid stared as his eyes seemed to glow, taking on a deep blue hue like moonlight on a cloudy winter night. His gaze skimmed her face, down to the swell of her breasts and back up again.
“Oh, I intend to take it,” he crooned in that deep voice.
Chapter Six
SID SHIVERED. “That’s not—” she whispered, then had to swallow on a dry throat. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he said smugly. “I just wanted my intentions to be clear.”
He stepped back abruptly, and the loss of his heat, of his strength, was sharp.
“So where are we going?” he asked.
“I’m not sure where she is. But she knew I was meeting you tonight, so she’ll expect me to call. I can tell her I need to see her in person.”
“All right. But watch what you say, Sidonie, because I’ll be listening.”
“Stop threatening me,” she demanded. “I don’t like it.”
Aden laughed again, but it was genuine amusement this time, not like before. “Just make the call,” he said. “And we’ll see what your professor friend has to say for herself.”
As Sid dug her cell phone out of her coat pocket and brought up Dresner’s number, she considered the possibility that the professor wouldn’t want to talk to her. If Dresner had tipped off Silas about Aden, and if she knew the plan had backfired—after all, Aden was still alive, which clearly hadn’t been what Silas was hoping for—she might want to distance herself from Sid, at least for a time. But as it turned out, Dresner didn’t seem troubled at all. She was either secure in assuming Sid didn’t know anything about what was going on with the vamps, or she actually hadn’t been the one who warned Silas that Aden was coming.
Sidonie was willing to consider both possibilities. Unlike Aden, she wasn’t prepared to hang a guilty sign on Dresner just yet.
“Sidonie,” she said, answering the phone. “I didn’t expect your call until later. Was your meeting with Aden cancelled again?”
“No, just the opposite,” Sid said, letting just a touch of anxiety flavor her words. She didn’t want to overplay it, but there had to be a reason for her to insist on a face-to-face meeting. “I have some information for you, but it’s… it’s pretty explosive. I’d really like to meet you on this one.”
“Of course, but are you all right? You sound shaken.”
“I guess . . . I didn’t expect it to be like this.”
“Where are you? Can you come to my place?”
“I don’t know where—”
“I’m in Wrigleyville, on Lakeview. I’ll text you the address. How soon can you be here?”
Sid looked up and met Aden’s dark stare. “I’d rather not take a cab this late. Is it okay if a friend drives me? We could be there in half an hour or so.” Aden’s sensuous lips curved slightly in what she supposed could be called a smile, if it hadn’t been for the cold calculation in his eyes.
“A friend . . .” Dresner repeated hesitantly.
“He lives here in Chicago. We work together.”
“Oh.” She hesitated, and Sid thought maybe she’d overplayed it, but then Dresner continued. “I suppose that’s all right. Don’t ring the bell, though, just knock. The neighbors complain about my late-night visitors.” She hung up without saying good-bye.
Aden took the phone from Sid’s nerveless fingers and pressed the button to disconnect before saying, “Very good, Sidonie. Is lying one of the skills you learned as a journalist?”