Also sleepy, Beast rolled over inside me, the sensation so real I could feel her pelt scraping inside my skin. My last thought was of Beast, curled in the dark, her/my tail wrapped tightly around my body. Small furry forms were curled against my belly, between my four paws, sleeping. Kits, breathing, snuffling, smelling of milk and exhaustion.
I woke to the smell of sweetgrass smoke, the sound of drums in a slow four beat, and the beeping of my cell. The dream slid away like silk sheets being pulled slowly from my mind. I opened my eyes. The storm was over, rain plinking and gurgling outside, the world brighter than two hours past. I fumbled in my boots beside my bed and answered. "What," I grated out, my voice full of sleep. Okay, so I wasn't at my best upon first waking.
"George Dumas here. You left a message"--a trace of humor crept into his tone--"before your . . . nap?"
A curious heat rolled over me, settling in my lower belly. That man had a great voice. Clearing my throat, I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling twelve feet above me. Well, ten, as I wasn't lying on the floor. I mentally shook myself. I needed to be sharp when I talked to Bruiser, not a melted puddle of hormones. But I could hear the warmth in my tone when I said, "I'm that transparent?" Crap. I sounded flirty. I did not need to be flirty with this man. I needed to keep it professional. At that thought, I remembered the photo of Leo and Katie. Being professional.
"You sound like a child just waking up," he said, his voice soft.
I will not flirt with this man. But it seemed I couldn't help myself. "Yeah, Bruiser. I'm cute that way." I rolled into a sitting position and dropped my feet to the floor. My braid had come half undone in my sleep and hair cascaded around my thighs. I needed caffeine. A lot of it.
Beast reared up. We need to mate.
That stopped whatever I meant to say. After an awkward pause, I managed to Bruiser, "I need some help."
Now he hesitated. "My boss may not be interested in my helping you."
"You said may not. Meaning that he didn't specifically prohibit you from helping me."
"No. Not specifically."
"There are four vamp parties this week. All I need is this--to know which parties Leo won't be at, and then an invitation to attend at least one of them."
The silence after I spoke was sharp and pointed, like a bayonet held to the heart. "And how do you know there are four parties this week?" he asked. Any hint of flirtation was gone from his tone, which helped me focus, remembering that this man was Leo's security expert and would likely kill me without a thought if his boss said to.
I recalled the calendar hanging in Raisin/Ernestine's office, every date of the vamp council's social life marked in Ernestine's lovely penmanship. Not that I was about to give away anything I might need later. Flirting with Bruiser was out, now, so I settled on flippant. "I have connections here and there. Is Leo still in mourning? Well, except to leave his coffin while trying to burn me alive in my own den."
Everyone knew that vamps didn't sleep in coffins. Just very secure, hidden, underground rooms that they called lairs. Coffins was mildly insulting, and Bruiser said, "I understand that you were on the side porch, not the den, when you faced down Leo and his top scions."
Oops. Den was Beast talk. I was more sleepy than I thought. Or Beast's comment about mating had taken me seriously off guard. Maybe I should hold off baiting the blood-servant of the city's most powerful vamp until I was more awake and thinking less about Bruiser's butt in tight jeans when he delivered Leo's invitation to vacate the city. I said, carefully, "Figure of speech. You boys gossiping about me?"
"When you killed the creature who had taken Immanuel's place, you saved most of Clan Arceneau's blood-servants; Brandon and Brian are alive and breathing because of you. But you left their blood-masters chained with silver when you found them, which works against you, and despite proof that the creature wasn't Immanuel, Leo feels the loss of his son." I could hear the distaste in his voice. "For good or ill, most of the clans' security has a more-than-passing interest in you, Jane."
That woke me up better than a whole pot of tea. "Well, that makes me feel all warm and cozy."
"It shouldn't. Why do you want to attend a vampire party?"
Not so I could boogie with the rich and fangy. I thought it but I didn't say it. What actually came out of my mouth was worse. "I need to sniff them." Bruiser barked with disbelieving laughter and I could have socked myself. Thinking fast, I said, "Just after the hurricane passed, I found where the sire making the young rogues had been. He, or she, wears a striking, distinctive perfume."
Bruiser wasn't going for it. "You aren't human," he said. "I saw evidence of that myself. So, does that mean that whatever form of supernat you are has an enhanced sense of smell?"