"How about you leave me the keys this time? Or prop the door open with a chair?" I shoved one of the little plastic chairs across the dull floor tiles with a screech.
Rick smiled and leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, effectively blocking the only exit, crossed his arms, and gave me his best bad boy grin. If I hadn't been worried over the kits--the children, for pity's sake--I might have been appreciative. I blew hair out of my face and fisted my hands on my hips. "What?"
"How long since you slept? You look like sh--really tired."
"Gee, thanks. You sure do know how to make a girl feel pretty."
"Pretty you're not. Interesting, yes. Intriguing, yes. Pretty is too . . ." He scrunched up his face, thinking, looking at the faded ceiling tiles. "Too soft for you."
All of a sudden the anger that had fueled my body in place of sleep escaped in one huge irate sigh. And because there was nothing else underneath the rage, supporting it, giving me strength, I burst into tears.
When I came up for air, I was sitting on the table leaning into Rick, my face buried in his chest, my tears soaked through to his skin. Which smelled really wonderfully good. Faint shirt starch, aftershave, Ivory soap, gun oil, and man. I tightened my fingers on his jacket, not wanting to let go. It was stupid and girly and . . . But I felt safe for the first time in . . . well, a long time. His hands made wide circles on my back and shoulders, massaging me through my shirt. I settled my face on his shoulder, not wanting to look up. Not wanting him to see me. I was an ugly crier. Red nose, snot, puffy eyes, ick.
"Sorry." My voice was rough with tears. I cleared it and tried again. "Sorry I got your shirt wet." Rick eased me back. When he could see me, I realized that the bad boy image was temporarily gone and something deeper, richer, was in its place. A strange feeling, prickling like fur, danced down my spine, expectant, waiting.
His mouth came down slowly, hovering near mine. I could smell his breath, which carried coffee and something sweet, like pastry. He held my eyes, a question in his, as if asking permission. When my hands tightened on his shirt, he pulled me closer. To the edge of the table, my legs beside his. Eyes on mine, he drew a fraction nearer. I raised my face, just slightly. A delicate, slow dance of approach, warming. And he touched my lips with his.
It was a gentle brush, a delicate sweep of his lips over mine. And then a hover, questing, his mouth barely touching. Lips parted slightly. Fractionally. I sighed. Closed my eyes. And the worry and fear and tension seeped away. I let his arms hold me.
Instead of deepening the kiss, which I expected, he brushed my lips with his slowly back and forth. Murmuring, "It's okay, Janie. It's really okay." His arms firmed. Lips hardened on mine. He pulled me closer. Finally I slid my arms around his shoulders and held on, feeling Beast purr steadily in my mind. His tongue touched mine and my sigh became a thrumming hum of sound. One hand cupped my head, cradling me, his thumb on my cheek. One hand stroked slowly down my hair and back.
Long moments later, I smiled against his mouth and felt his smile follow, breaking the intensity. I eased back and met his gaze, which was warm and focused on me with tight concentration. "Thanks," I said, my voice rough.
He grinned and broke away, steadying me as I found my balance. "I've been wanting to do that for a while now. But"--he eased back and looked at his watch--"let's talk."
We did. I filled him in on everything that had happened, everything I had learned, from my impromptu history lesson, to all my guesses. I put it all together for myself and for Rick, from the smell on Bettina's hands at the vamp party, to the rising of a gangbanger tattooed with crosses. "I think the Damours--Renee, Tristan, and maybe their brother--were all witches, were all the long-chained, and all woke up. I think they might have perfected a spell to make progeny who don't ever go insane, and don't react to crosses. I think they're working on a spell to bring sanity to any rogue." I studied Rick. "If they succeed, there'll be no stopping the vamps. No way at all."