“We’ve been through a lot, she and I.” I could tell him that we were friends, but I knew he wouldn’t believe it. “Why do vampires and weres hate each other?”
“We used to be their favorite food. We’d last a lot longer than normal humans would, with less outlay of funds. It was easier for them to hide their habits using us, back in darker times, before Winter’s roads and taxes. Another way that civilization has benefited the were.” He tilted his beer toward me in a small toast. “So why are you her friend, and not a daytimer, or donor—or living in a small tight box?”
Without answering, I shrugged. He gave another look around. “You picked the right booth. This one has its back to the wall. Not another booth. And you can see both the kitchen and main entrances from here. Windows too. Good call. How did you know to pick this one?”
I frowned, unsure where he was going with his demonstration. “Because.” Because I’d been in patients’ rooms before where I needed a clear shot through to the door—even before working on Y4.
“I know why, even if you don’t.”
“Illuminate me, then.”
“Because to me, and maybe to others, although hopefully you’ll never know—you’re prey. You’ve always felt it a bit. A little paranoid, a little overworried. Perhaps jealous of people with more freedom and less care. But that feeling inside you that you’ve carried your whole life—it’s actually quite profound.” Lucas slowly sank back into the booth and looked at me with his red-brown eyes. I wondered if it was the nearness of the full moon that made him seem relaxed, languorous. As a predator, he knew his time was near. “That sense of the world, and your place in it, that’s what’s currently keeping you afloat.” He rested his forearms on the table, and his attention on me felt eerie. The waitress saved me, bringing out our plates of food.
“What’s it like, being a werewolf?” I asked, trying to make easy conversation.
Lucas leaned back. “Depends a lot on what kind of were you are. Major weres like my family that can switch anytime are rare. Minor ones, with diluted blood, that only get pulled by the moon are more common. Bitten ones look like the weres from the movies, half man, half wolf, that sort of thing. Each has its pros and cons. We’re all mortal without the moon in the sky—after that, it depends on how much were is in your blood.”
“But you don’t live forever.”
“As my uncle is illustrating.” Lucas gave me another knowing look. “What’s the connection between your people and him?”
“I don’t know. And neither do they. But—just as your weres aren’t all cohesive, neither are the vampires. I only have contact with the one, really.”
“Is she important?”
I watched Lucas’s face for any hint of lies. Did he really not know who Anna was? He was from out of town. “She’s important to me,” I hedged.
“Are you worried about hurting her, if you talk plainly?” he asked, and I nodded. He visibly relaxed. “That makes me feel better at least. I get family. It’s like pack.”
I shoved my fries around on my plate, feeling guilty about not sharing. But talking too much had never done me any favors. My phone rang, saving me from myself, and as rude as it was, I went to answer it. It was probably Sike. “Hello?”
A groan answered me. “Who is this?” I asked, as Lucas perked up. “Gideon?”
The phone hung up. “A friend of yours?” Lucas guessed.
“More family. We have to go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I danced from foot to foot while Lucas found a waitress he could hand two twenties to before we left. I didn’t care if he paid, I just needed to leave. Maybe Viktor had cracked, or maybe this dinner was a ruse to get me away from home—or maybe Grandfather’d discovered how to tap into cellular service and had had Gideon prank-call me. It could be a false alarm, but I doubted it.
Lucas caught up with me when I was halfway to his truck. We hopped inside. “Who’s Gideon?”
“He’s injured.”
“It didn’t sound like he told you that. I only heard a groan.”
Damn weres and their good hearing. I tried to think of a way to explain Gideon’s injuries. “He’s handicapped.”
“Oh. Shit.” The truck hit the freeway, and Lucas pressed the gas.
The tires only lost traction twice, and Lucas’s heavier truck found it again faster than my Chevy would have. He parked near my apartment, and together we ran toward my place. “Edie, I smell blood.”
“Please—go.” I didn’t know what Lucas would find, but right now I didn’t have anything to hide. In an instant, he ran ahead.
I stopped to wonder why he hadn’t had to open my door when I reached it myself, already unlocked and open. I walked into my dark apartment. I heard movement in the darkness beyond.
“Gideon?” I stood in the short hallway. Hands grabbed me and pulled me sideways into my hall closet.
I tried to scream, but a hand covered my mouth, and I felt cold metal on my cheek. I made some noises, but nothing came through, my lips were pressed into someone’s salty palm. I started thrashing, until I realized that whoever was holding me was only keeping me still. I calmed down and felt around with my hands, found skin that had wires braided in. The salt and cold resolved into something I knew—Gideon’s hand.
I sagged with relief and he let me go.
“What happened?” I whispered. I could hear the struggles out in the apartment beyond. The red ON light of my webcam gleamed from Gideon’s shoulder. I saw it bob as he shrugged, unable to tell me. We were beyond yes/no questions again.
There was a low animal sound from my living room. Then flesh hit flesh, and a wild squealing began. I cracked open the closet door and stepped out.
In the dim glow from the parking lot that seeped into my apartment, I could see Lucas wrestling with someone. I hit the hallway light switch, and something or someone in my living room hissed.
“Don’t hurt her!” I cried out as I saw who.
Lucas had Veronica pinned. She was thrashing beneath him, muttering strange words, completely wild. He was strong this close to the moon, and she was weak, being newly made. But if she’d fed on whatever it was that’d made the bloodstain they were rolling in—she might have the advantage of him eventually. He would tire, and she didn’t care if he died.
“Veronica. Veronica! Snap out of it!” I knelt down, snapping my fingers to get her to look at me. I didn’t dare slap her; I’d get a hand full of teeth. “Veronica—you used to be Veronica. Don’t you remember?”
“She’s wild—we should—” Lucas said, pressing down on her even tighter.
“No!” My purse was in his truck, with my phone and Sike’s number and my badge that might have helped. “Just try not to hurt her, okay? I’ll be right back.”
To get up I planted a hand into my carpeting, felt it stick in something dark and cold. I wiped it on my jeans as I ran for my open door.
A graceful female form appeared, blocking my path. She held a collar in one hand, a coat in the other. Sike.
“Well, this was unexpected.” Sike picked her way in, stepping lightly around the bloodstains on the floor.
“Something you didn’t plan for? Unlikely,” I said, but thank goodness she was here. Maybe she would be able to make some sense of this mess. I willed myself not to dust off my bloodstained knees.
“Cross my heart and swear to die,” Sike said, unconvincingly. She reached a hand out to Veronica, where Lucas still had her pinned to the floor. “Unhand my sister,” she told Lucas, and he looked to me before responding.
“You know her?”
“Too well.”