“Tate, why would you even think such a thing?” I managed.
“Don’t bother, luv,” Bones said lightly, still showing that same toothsome smile. “I don’t care what lies he uses to comfort himself with when he’s alone at night and you’re with me. Belinda, your time-out’s over. Back to your cell.”
We left without another word, Belinda still licking her lips as we corralled her back to the lower level and her confinement.
TWENTY-NINE
WE BROUGHT BELINDA OUT every day to train with Tate, Juan, and Cooper. This was at their insistence, not mine. They refused to accept that they couldn’t rise to the challenge of pinning her, and were determined to still play an active role in capturing Ian’s men. I didn’t like it, but Tate had been as adamant as I’d ever seen him. Belinda didn’t seem to mind. Although she didn’t get her prize of fresh blood anymore, she did get to leave her small cell and also had an extra bag of plasma daily for cooperating. Plus I think she liked how frustrated they were by their inability to pin her—at least at first.
After four days of humiliation, the guys started getting better at it. They managed a few times to plug Belinda’s chest at just the right angle so one twist would have ended her, if the knife had been silver.
And that, I knew, was enough to make any vampire suddenly become really, really cooperative. With another week or so of practice, they might be ready for Bones to make that call to Ian saying he’d found me and had hostages. Then I could put into action my other plan. The one regarding my father that I hadn’t told Bones about. Oh yeah. I was looking forward to that.
On Thursday we went to pick up one of Bones’ people from the airport. This person was flying in from London, and was apparently the first vampire Bones had ever made. Some days, vampire hierarchy felt like The Godfather to me. On acid.
“You haven’t asked and there’s been little time, but you need to know who it is we’re getting, Kitten.”
We’d just reached the section of the airport where the rest of the nonflying public waited for arriving passengers. With today’s airline security, it was as far as we were allowed to go, unless Bones turned on his optical headlights.
“Another old flame?” I joked.
Bones didn’t laugh. “You could call her that, yes.”
I needed a gin for this crap. “Great, can’t wait to meet her.”
“You remember I told you when I was human, one of my clients saved my life by convincing the judge to ship me to Australia instead of hanging me for pick-pocketing? Well, that was Annette. After I returned to London as a vampire, I looked for the people who’d shown me kindness. Madame Lucille, the bordello owner who helped raise me, was dead by then, as were many of the prostitutes I’d lived with, but Annette was still there. I offered her this life, and she accepted. She’s who we’re picking up now.”
Shit. I hated her already, and we hadn’t even met. That was a new low for me.
“And she’ll be staying with us tonight. How cozy.”
Bones took my hand. “Don’t let it trouble you. You’re the only woman for me, Kitten. Believe that.”
There was a whoosh of charged air moments later. “She’s here,” he said unnecessarily.
A woman walked toward us with the unmatched grace only a vampire could harness. Her cool, patrician features screamed aristocracy, and her lightly lined skin had that trademark glowing luminescence. Why couldn’t she be ugly? was my first thought. She looks like a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Susan Sarandon!
Her champagne-colored eyes fixed immediately on mine, and right away, I knew we had something in common. She already didn’t like me, either.
“Crispin, can I have a kiss after my long flight?”
Her accent was pure British upper-crust. She was also chicly dressed in a navy jacket with matching pants, and I’d bet her shoes cost as much as my last paycheck. Just looking at her, I felt like I had a smear of something on my face, or food in my teeth.
“Of course,” Bones replied, brushing his lips across each of her cheeks. She returned the gesture while giving me a once-over that made me feel as insignificant as her smirk judged me to be.
He turned to me. “This is Cat,” he introduced me.
I held out my hand. She shook it with ladylike graciousness, only tightening her pale, delicate-looking paw for an instant.
Oh, she had power as well. Not a Master, but a nice, steady level of torque.
“Delighted to finally meet you, darling. I so hoped Crispin would be able to locate you.” She traced a finger down his face as if in solace. “Poor sweet dear, he was positively wretched with worry that something ill had befallen you.”
It was official. I hated her. How gracious of her to remind me that I’d made him miserable for several years. Where was a nice silver dagger when I needed one?