“That’s not what I asked.”
Okay, so the question was: Did Ryder act like he was in law enforcement? The image of him striding into the room when I’d been held at gunpoint, the easy way he not only checked over the situation, but also kept an eye on any other possible threats. His calm under pressure and that flash of hard light in his eyes that settled like a granite edge when he was talking about certain things and people.
Yeah, he acted like he’d had training. Myra had even said the same thing to me a few months ago after the Rhubarb Rally. Since my sisters had done a lot of work to keep Ryder’s schedule and duties far away from my own shift, I couldn’t say I’d seen him in cop-mode much these last few months.
But the feeling that I’d been shoving to the back of my heart for too long was more than just intuition. It was knowledge.
“Yes,” I said, “he acts like a cop. What does that have to do with love?”
“Nothing. Everything. It has to do with secrets. The things people won’t say because they want to keep someone they love safe.”
“He doesn’t want to tell me he’s a cop?”
“He doesn’t want to tell you a lot of things. Maybe he’s not a cop. But what I know for sure, is he is not just an architect, and he did not move back into this tiny town because he thought it would be good for business.”
“You think he lied?”
“I think he hasn’t been forthcoming.”
“And you know this how?”
His black eyebrows raised and so did the corners of his mouth. “Hello? Trickster. I know when someone is putting on.”
“If he is hiding something, that’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t be in a relationship with him.”
“Tell that to your heart.”
“My heart isn’t stupid enough to fall for a man who might be keeping dangerous secrets.”Crow shook his head.
“What?”
“Now who’s the liar?”
I didn’t have time to answer because one: I didn’t want to, and two: we had arrived at Old Rossi’s place.
I parked the Jeep right next to Ryder’s truck.
What was he doing here?
I tried to picture him doing Zen scribbles or hot yoga....
Hot yoga had its appeal. Ryder sweaty, shirt clinging to his chest, his flat stomach, muscles flexing as he moved, stretched, thrusted.
“Are we getting out today, or should I order us a pizza?” Crow asked.
Okay, so maybe my mind had been wandering a bit. “You can stay here.”
“Nope. I’m very interested as to why our Mr. Bailey is here at big daddy vamp’s house, aren’t you, Delaney? Do you think it might be a secret meeting? Full of skullduggery?”
I ignored him and got out of the Jeep. Yes, it was odd that Ryder was at Old Rossi’s house, especially since Rossi had warned me off of Ryder, and Ryder hadn’t ever seemed all that friendly to Rossi. Not to mention I’d specifically told Rossi to leave Ryder alone.
There was little chance Rossi would want to give me time to answer questions about what he had felt, what any of the vampires might have felt, when Sven had been killed.
But I didn’t want Rossi to do Ryder any damage. It had been Ryder’s blood on Sven, it had been Ryder’s blood used in the ichor techne. It was possible that Rossi had called Ryder up here so he could kill him.
Well, hell.
I resisted the urge to pull my gun. Instead, I walked quickly up to the front door.
Even though I had been here only a handful of hours ago, it felt like an entirely different house. Funny what sunlight can do to a place.
I knocked. I heard voices coming closer. Three, I thought. Two I recognized: Old Rossi and Ryder. The other I didn’t.
Crow stood behind me now. Guess he didn’t want to wait in the Jeep.
Old Rossi opened the door. For just a second, a heartbeat of a moment, his eyes narrowed. If I were anyone else in town, I might think that he was unhappy to see me. But since I knew Old Rossi, I knew he wasn’t just unhappy, he was annoyed.
Interesting.
“Hi, Rossi. Can I have a couple of minutes of your time?”
“This isn’t ideal, Delaney.”
“It won’t take long.” I stepped into his house. I didn’t have to be invited across a threshold—human had its advantages—and he stepped back, the annoyed rolling into a simmering frustration that was not quite anger.
Really, if he wanted, he could send one of his family members to take care of me. Vampires were at least three times as strong as a human. If he wanted me marched off his property, he could make that happen with a snap of his fingers.
But it would be really stupid of him to push this to a physical kind of confrontation. Better just to see me in and answer my questions rather than fight me and watch as I locked him and his entire clan up in a silver and garlic-lined prison cell.
Yes, I was human. I was also a Reed. That meant some things. It meant I didn’t back down, I didn’t break easily, and I had the kind of endurance that let me manhandle god powers if I had to.
“I see you have company.” I waved vaguely over my shoulder toward Ryder’s truck out front.
“So do you.” He flicked a look at Crow, then crossed his arms over his chest. He might have looked intimidating if he wasn’t wearing soft gray yoga pants and a worn out shirt with: LET’S GET DOWN, DOG written across the chest.
“Is Ryder taking up yoga?”
Old Rossi almost never smiled with his teeth, but would curve his lips. He had the kind of face that said “smolder,” and his smile reached his eyes with a sort of diamond-hard glitter. If one didn’t know he was a vampire and couple thousand years old, one might think he was a handsome cologne-ad model, even though his eyebrows were thick and low to his eyes and his nose was strong. His messy dark hair, a little too long, only accented those killer cheekbones of his.
So the unfulfilled smile carried a power. It made one want to see his teeth, see his smile, see what would make a creature like him laugh.
Sort of like a spiderweb looked incomplete—all those holes—and therefore safe for a fly to duck through.
“Delaney,” Ryder’s familiar voice called out.
I looked down the hallway past Old Rossi. Ryder walked my way.
My heart took a jump and went for a double-Dutch beat. I’d just seen him last night, but there was no denying the happy that flooded my senses when he was near. I practically thrummed with it.
Behind him was the man I’d seen arguing with Ryder on his doorstep the other night.
“What brings you by?” Ryder asked.
“Yes, Delaney,” Old Rossi asked. “What brings you by?”
“I just wanted to check a few things with Rossi.”
The vampire’s eyebrows flicked up. Behind him, Ryder’s did the same.
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t sounding as casual as I thought I was.
“Don’t think we’ve met.” Crow strode up past me and Rossi, aiming straight at the man I still hadn’t been introduced to. “My name’s Crow. I run the glassblowing shop here in town.”
“Pleased to meet you.” The man’s voice was a low rumble with a bit of an accent from the other side of the continent. He shook Crow’s hand. “Name’s Jake Monroy.”