He gave her that cheeky smile again, and her stomach did odd flip-flops. “You could say I’ve had a somewhat shady past. But it’s all behind me, I promise.”
“Yeah, it looks like it,” she said dryly.
Smile widening, he placed a hand at her back, ushering her through the door. His touch burned into her skin, and for some reason, hurt. She frowned, flexing her shoulders, wondering what was wrong. Pain twinged, running down her spine like muted fire. Maybe she’d twisted something when the door had blown her off her feet. Maybe she hadn’t felt anything until now because she’d been too scared for Doyle. Or too aroused by him.
Swallowing the thought, she moved down the steps and into the street. A crowd had gathered around Rachel’s gate, watching what was happening. An ambulance had pulled up, its lights still flashing as two paramedics ran inside. But they were far too late to save Rachel—as she and Doyle had been far too late. She crossed her arms and shivered, remembering Helen’s words. One more woman to go, and she had to save her. But how, when she couldn’t even save herself? God, she was o
nly here now because Doyle had rescued her.
His gaze swept her as he walked down the steps, flushing heat through her body. “Make it casual,” he said and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they headed down the street.
“Where to now, Romeo?” she asked, voice tart. He might want casual, but right now, when her body still sang to the tune of his touch, casual was the last thing she wanted—or needed. “Right now, we disappear into this mist and get as far away as we can. Then we catch a cab and head on over to the government facility that housed you and Helen.”
She glanced up at him, startled. “Why?”
“Because Camille believes that’s where all this started.”
She frowned. “But that was closed down years ago. What do you hope to find there now?”
He shrugged. “All I’m hoping to find at the moment is my friend, Russell, alive and unharmed.”
She raised an eyebrow. If his friend was at the center at this hour, he obviously hadn’t gotten in through any normal means. “He’s a thief, too?”
“No. Actually, he’s a vampire.”
She stopped and stared at him. “A vampire?”
He glanced behind them, then nudged her forward again. “Yes. Vampires aren’t all bad, you know.”
They weren’t? She blinked several times. Lord, it was hard enough to believe vampires were real, let alone the fact that some of them were actually on the side of the angels. “But … they have to drink blood to survive. How can he be good?”
“He doesn’t take human blood.”
“So he dines on animals?” Somehow, she found that even worse.
He glanced down at her, an eyebrow raised. “You eat meat, chicken and fish, don’t you? What’s the difference?”
He sounded so damn logical it was annoying. “But I don’t actually kill them. They come in ready-to-eat pieces all wrapped in plastic. I don’t have to think about where it comes from.”
“Russ doesn’t kill them, either. And it’s mainly cows and horses he takes from.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t entirely sure that made her feel any better about meeting this friend of his. She frowned. “If he’s a vampire, how did he get into the center? Don’t vampires have to be invited over thresholds? Or is that all a load of Hollywood tripe?”
“Tripe?” He grinned. “Now, there’s an expression I’ll have to use back home.”
Right then, she didn’t particularly want to think about him leaving her, let alone going back to America and whatever life he had there. She slapped him lightly in the stomach. “Just answer the damn question.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He guided her across the street and into the park. “When the threshold in question is private—a home, for instance—the vampire can’t cross it without invitation. But if the threshold is public—say, an office, hospital or supermarket—then the vampire can cross as easily as anyone else.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and looked at her, his gaze suddenly intense. “Some things just are, Kirby. You don’t question them; you just accept.”
“You accept,” she muttered, turning her gaze from his. “I’ll continue to question.” It was a whole lot safer that way.
Though the mist still covered the tops of the gum trees, the drizzle was beginning to lift and, above all the gray, patches of blue were showing. They might even get a fine day. Which would be good, she thought, dragging the ends of her coat together. She needed to get warm. It felt like the chill of the last few days had settled deep into her bones.
“If you’re cold, you can have my coat,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.