I wasn’t about to correct Don’s misassumption of my relationship, and besides, I’d already decided on changing our celibate status. Plus, clearly Tate hadn’t recognized Bones from before, or this whole thing would be going down far differently. Well, who could blame him? He’d only seen him for a split second—right before Bones demolished his car, drank him, and chucked him through the air. That, and his hair was different.
“Yes, well, a lot of things have changed since then, haven’t they?” I observed mildly. “Take for example the invention of Brams. Or the caged vampires on the premises. Oh, and don’t forget, the added years to their lives.”
I jerked my head in Juan and Tate’s direction. Don’s expression confirmed that he hadn’t told them. There was nothing like clouding the issue to redirect the heat.
“That’s not relevant now,” Don grated.
I raised a mocking brow. “Let’s ask them, shall we? Tate, Juan, did you both know if you drank vampire blood, it would add at least twenty years to your natural lives? I didn’t know that, but old Don here sure did. He knew what went on in Ohio, but didn’t figure on telling you. Guess he thought you wouldn’t be interested.”
“Madre de Dios, is that true?” Juan blurted. Tate looked a bit dazed as well, and I pounced on him.
“It’s not nice when someone knows how long you might live and keeps it to themselves, is it? At least I told Don you had to be informed, whereas you didn’t give me the same courtesy!”
“Is this some sort of payback?” he asked low.
The pain in his eyes had little to do with this latest revelation and everything to do with my previous admission. Right then I saw what I’d been blind to before. God, Tate was in love with me. It was so clear, even I couldn’t fail to notice.
“No, it has nothing to do with that.” No need to lie there. “It has nothing to do with any of you, and that’s the way it stays.”
“There is no way I will allow this behavior to continue,” Don stated flatly. “Too many lives are at risk, and I care about that even if you don’t.”
I stood and loomed over him. “Fuck you, boss. I care about each and every man in my unit, and I’ve proved that countless times. You don’t believe me? Then fire me.”
“Querida, don’t be so hasty,” Juan implored. Don hadn’t moved. “We’re concerned for you; what if this vamp finds out what you are—”
“He knows,” I interrupted.
Don cursed freely. That made me blink. He never lost his cool.
“How does he know that, Cat? You told him? Did you draw him a fucking map of our location and numbers as well? I hope he’s amazing in bed, because you’ve just ruined everything we’ve worked for!”
“No, I didn’t tell him.” As I spoke, I improvised. “I met him years ago. He knew what I was from back then, and he left Ohio before all that shit went down. I hadn’t seen him until a month ago when I ran into him around here. He’s only a hundred and I’m stronger than he is, so he knows to keep his trap shut or I’ll kill him. There you have it.”
“How could you do it?” This from Tate, who gave me a faintly disgusted glare. “How could you fuck a corpse? You really went from one extreme to the other. First Noah, then right to necrophilia!”
That pissed me off. “Does everybody forget I’m half vampire? When you say shit about the undead, you’re also talking about me! It’s like skinheads trying to convince Halle Berry to march in their neo-nazi parade! How could I do it? Why don’t you tell me, Tate? Or you, Juan? Both of you have tried to fuck me. Guess that makes you necrophiliacs as well.”
It was a low blow, but one that was deliberate. They had to stop seeing all vampires as evil, and God knew that was a tough habit to break. After all, it had taken me years to be less narrow-minded, and I’d been in love with one.
Don coughed, not liking the direction of the conversation. “No one forgets what you are. However, it doesn’t change what your mission is. You kill the undead. All of you do. This is a momentous task with great responsibility. What’s to stop your lover from doing his kind a favor by informing them where the elusive Red Reaper lives? After all, if you’re dead, then you can hardly threaten him.”
“Juan, how many different women have you slept with in the past four years?” I abruptly asked.
He scratched his chin. “Yo no se, querida, perhaps... about one a week?” he answered before Don gave him a censuring glare.
“That’s not necessary!”
“I think it is,” I said sharply. “One a week, give or take. That’s over two hundred different women in the past four years he’s worked here, and on a side note: Juan, you’re a slut. But how many of them were carefully screened to ensure they weren’t a Renfield, or some ghoul’s underling? You sexist bastards, I’m the only one called on the carpet for who I date! Well, I’ve had enough of this little chastity session. Don, it comes down to this. You either trust me or you don’t. I’ve never let you down, and I won’t walk away unless you make me. Period. Now, unless you have a real emergency, I’d like to get back to my vacation. And my corpse, thanks.”
I marched to the door, but Tate didn’t move from in front of it.