sounded like an
honest question.
"Well, I am," I admitted. "But not Garrett."
"You can explain about Fiends?" Sure.
"There are no taboos against discussing such things with outsiders?"
"I dunno." Wyndham couldn't hide his surprise, so I borrowed a phrase from his pal Derik.
"I think it's that culture clash thing again. If it'll keep you from pulling Garrett's legs off, I'll answer any question you like."
"That's a good thing, chief," Derik said. "Stop looking like you're expecting the other shoe to drop—on your head."
"For a ruthless despot of the undead, you're awfully charming," Michael said, and no one
in the room was surprised when Jeannie's fist slipped. But he got his breath back in no
time at all.
Lara asked—and received—permission to use the bathroom. Jeannie got up to accompany
her. And I used the kid's absence to explain about Fiends, about Nostro and his sick-ass
psycho games, about Garrett's slow recovery, about all the progress he made and how
much he and Antonia loved—
"So by your own admission, this creature was sub-human only six months ago?"
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"I don't know if sub—"
"Subsisting on buckets of blood, running around on all fours, and howling at the moon?"
"Physician, howl thyself," I pointed out.
"And he couldn't even talk?" Michael persisted.
"I don't know about couldn't. Didn't talk would be more accurate. But see, after he drank
my blood and the dev—and my sister's, he got better. And you guys—you just don't
know. I mean, the way he feels about Antonia. She's his everything. He'd ki—uh, he'd die
for her."
"And she for him, I s'pose?"
"Well, it's hard to imagine Antonia getting all mushy and stuff, but yeah, I imagine she'd—
" Too late, I saw the trap Michael had set for me. I shot to my feet and started to pace.
"You guys, Garrett did not kill Antonia and then take off for parts unknown. There's no
way. No way."
"Mmmm," Wyndham said.
"Hmmm," Derik added, also apparently unconvinced.
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"You don't see me with my knickers in a knot, asking you if your Pack member killed my
guy and then took off. Did I show up, fists flying, jumping to conclusions? No." I smirked
to see the Wyndhams looking uncomfortable. Except for Brendon, who
glared at me.
"We've been over this," Michael said, mildly enough.
"Yeah, but now that your kid's gone, you can apologize for being totally out-of-control,
foaming, slavering assholes who hit first and asked questions later."
He drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds, and then, after a long, difficult
moment (difficult for him, not for me) he said, "I apologize."
"Okay. It's totally conceivable that Antonia saw the future and got the hell out of here and
that Garrett tried to stop her and so she—she—I dunno, gave him a bath in holy water and
then left town on the first Amtrak headed east. That could totally happen, but I'm not
getting all suspicious and paranoid, right? So there's no reason for you guys to stay beady-
eyed."
"Are there any other unusual goings-on?" Michael asked, leaning forward. "Anything
mysterious? Something that might lead us to answers?"
"Everything's fine," I lied. I cocked my head;
I could hear Babyjon asking for a bottle. Loudly. "And you'll have to excuse me a minute;
my brother needs me."
I moved past them, and Wyndham's hand shot out and closed over my forearm. I saw the
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could actually feel his heartbeat through his fingers.
And he smelled—have I mentioned how frigging delicious these guys smelled? No wonder
Garrett found Antonia irresistible. It sure wasn't her