I inhaled again. It was such a unique thing to be able to discern emotions by scent. I’d inherited a lot from my undead father, but a heightened sense of smell hadn’t been one of those upgraded senses. Maybe when I saw him tonight, I’d thank him for my other abilities. Right before I killed him.
Then I took another deep breath and frowned. Bones’ scent still clung to me, of course, even after my shower this morning. Hence his whole spa idea later, but that wouldn’t do me any good now, ten minutes away from facing Ian’s men.
“I still smell like Bones,” I said to Annette. “Won’t smelling him on me cause suspicion when we play our little act with Ian’s guards?”
Annette’s mouth curled. “They think you’re just another pretty girl, not the Red Reaper Ian’s after, so it would make perfect sense that you’d smell like Crispin. The two of us supposedly just came from picking up prisoners from him, remember? Crispin does have a reputation. In fact, you really should smell more like me as well, for things to be truly believable.”
My teeth ground, which only made Annette’s smirk broaden. “When hell freezes,” I said evenly.
She clucked her tongue. “Pity.” And she gave me a slow once-over that reminded me loud and clear that Annette found women just as enticing as men. Guess since she hadn’t succeeded at pulling me away from Bones, she thought she’d try a “can’t beat ’em, join ’em” approach.
I drummed my nails on the van door, biting back the urge to groan, “Are we there yet?” Fighting vampires held a much stronger appeal than getting hit on by Bones’ former main squeeze. Especially since she only wanted to get me in bed so that Bones could join us.
About five minutes later, Annette pulled into the parking lot for a strip of warehouses. I glanced around. It was after six in the evening on a Friday, so most of the working world had left, assuming any of these warehouses were owned by the average company with average employees. Annette pulled out her cell and dialed.
“Open the bay door,” she said by way of greeting.
“We’re here.”
Annette backed the van up into a bay door, which closed as soon as we were inside. I’d wondered how we were supposed to hand over three handcuffed and gagged men without attracting attention. I gave a quick glance around what I could see of the warehouse from my vantage point in the van. Aside from the six vampires approaching us, there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the immediate vicinity. That was a plus.
The fact that the warehouse consisted of one open, big-ass room was a definite negative, however. The van was the only thing that interrupted the space in here. Mentally I cursed. So much for bringing the vamps back into a room two at a time so no one else could see what was going on. I caught Annette’s eye and nodded at the open area around us. She just shrugged and got out of the van.
Bitch.
“’Allo, my beauty,” one of the vampires greeted Annette in an accented voice. He had a patch over his right eye, and a crooked nose that, when he was human, must have been broken repeatedly. Still, those defects somehow worked with the rest of him, giving him a roguish air that complemented his dark looks.
Annette gave the man a kiss on the mouth. A long one. My brows shot up. Well. Annette was either very friendly when meeting people, or he wasn’t a stranger.
“Francois,” she murmured. “It’s been too long.”
He said something in French that I couldn’t translate, but Annette did, because she laughed and replied in the same language. It was irritating not knowing what they were saying. Note to self: Expand linguistic skills.
Whatever their exchange was, it had Francois looking over at me with a glint in his, er, eye. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure about my bright idea of having Annette back me up instead of Bones. She didn’t like me; that had been firmly established. What if she was telling the other vampire that this was a trap? What if Bones’ warning of horrible punishment didn’t scare her as much as it should? Jealousy was an irrational emotion, and Annette might figure that she could come up with a whopper of a story afterward to deflect Bones’ anger. I shifted uneasily in my seat, casting a quick look toward the back at my three bound guys. Things could get very ugly, very fast.
Francois stroked a strawberry-blond lock of hair from Annette’s face before turning on his heel and coming over to my side of the van. I tensed, my hand sliding down to my thigh-high boots. I had silver knives tucked away in those. Maybe there wouldn’t be any hostages for me to use as leverage against Ian after all.
Francois opened my door and I smiled, pretending to play with the tops of my boots in girlish flirtation while in reality, I was fingering the hilt of one of my blades.