“Want another?”
She took stock of the light, fizzy sensation in her head and fingertips. “Yes, I think I do.”
Laughing under his breath, Tucker crossed to the refrigerator and opened the door, glancing back over his shoulder at Ginny. Probably to gauge her reaction at the abundance of plastic pouches filled with blood. A finger of disbelief trailed up and down her back and all she could do was stare, trying to imagine Jonas drinking from a plastic pouch.
“Oh, he doesn’t,” Tucker said, straightening with her beer in his hand. “He pours it into a glass, like a fancy asshole.”
“I didn’t realize I was thinking out loud. I do that sometimes.”
“I noticed. It’s probably another reason you drive him crazy.”
Ginny rubbed at the funny feeling in her chest and cut a look toward the door, willing Jonas to walk in. His presence was so dense in the apartment, like a heavy cloak wrapped around her, making the need to see him severe and inescapable. “Is he safe wherever he’s gone?”
Tucker uncapped the bottle and paused. “Jonas? Hell yeah, he’s safe. Dude might be a pretty boy, but he wrangles rookies on a weekly basis without batting an eyelash. Brings them to heel.” He handed Ginny the beer. “You’re in good hands. Jonas Cantrell is a bad motherfucker.”
“Cantrell,” she whispered, treasuring the knowledge of his last name.
The vampire did a double take, cursed. “I’ve got a big mouth.”
“It’s all going to get erased,” she murmured, starting on her second drink.
“Uh-huh.” Tucker retreated to the mantle in a blur. “So what do you do for fun, Ginny?” His smile was full of mischief. “Besides tempt the prince to break the rules, that is?”
Her breath stuttered in her lungs at the reality that she could be bad for Jonas. Really bad. She’d been so swept up in the realization that vampires existed and one was possibly trying to kill her for an unknown reason that she hadn’t taken the time to think about the implications for Jonas. By protecting her, he was putting himself in jeopardy. “Um,” she managed. “I’m in a dress making club. Embrace the Lace Dressmaking Endeavors. We have an expo coming up, actually. With a silent auction and everyth—”
The front door opened and Elias whooshed into the apartment, overcoat spinning around his knees, the collar still guarding his face from view, like earlier.
“Hey, buddy,” Tucker called, good-naturedly. “We were just talking about what a kinky bastard you are.”
No response, just a tensing of his shoulders.
“We weren’t really,” Ginny stuck in quickly, shooting Tucker a stern look. “Did you find Roksana?”
“No, I did not,” he rasped from behind his collar. “The reckless brat.”
Ginny’s spine snapped straight at the unfounded name calling of her friend. Her only friend, to be accurate. “How do you know she’s being reckless?”
Elias turned slightly, without revealing his face. “Have you met her?”
The menace in Elias’s voice temporarily muddled her thoughts—along with the beer—and she found herself saying, rather stupidly, “She mentioned you to me.”
A very subtle ripple went through him. “Did she.”
Ginny nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “In a fond way.”
Elias went back out the front door with a curse.
Jonas caught the door before it could close, his eyes snapping with green and spearing right into her.
The lights flickered in the apartment, turning the beer in Ginny’s stomach to sour sludge. Was he manipulating the electricity? Or was that just a coincidence?
“Honey, it’s not what it looks like,” Tucker cried. “We thought about you the entire time.”
Jonas set down the shopping bag in his hand and flexed his fingers. “You couldn’t follow instructions for fifteen minutes?”
“She tricked me.”
“It hardly took an effort.” She looked down at the bottle, surprised to find it was empty—and why was she holding two of them? Wait, no. One. No…two. “I do have to use the restroom now.”
Tucker laughed. “Beer’ll do that to you.”
“This is very cozy,” Jonas drawled, though his expression was tight and intent on Ginny. “Back to my room, please.”
She set down her empty beer bottle on the coffee table. “If I’m going to stay here for any length of time, I have to be allowed to roam freely.”
“She wants to be a free-range human, prince,” Tucker translated.
Jonas’s jaw popped. “We’ll talk about this when we’re alone.”
A ding went off somewhere in the apartment. Ginny turned in a circle, searching for the source of the familiar sound. It took her a good fifteen seconds to realize it was coming from the cell phone still stowed in her dress pocket. She used it so rarely, she’d forgotten it was there, but she took it out now and tapped the button to bring up her email. “Oh!” Hot moisture pooled in her eyes. “Great news! We have a body being brought into the morgue tomorrow.”
“She’s a keeper,” Tucker said without missing a beat.