“Tell Rebecca I’ll help Genevieve, and I’ll do it without any demand of payment. If I can help her consort, we’re even. Understood?”
“I don’t speak for her, but I suspect that’s the arrangement she had in mind.”
I puffed up, grinning. Man, I was getting pretty good at this vampire political stuff. First, I’d cut our hunter down a few pegs, and now I was bartering over the redress cost of a vampire’s life. My grin faded, and the knot in my throat doubled in size.
God. Who was I becoming?
Holden seemed to notice the change in my demeanor because he forced a smile and put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in for a hug that felt awkward, especially when he patted me on the back twice, two hard thumps.
“Don’t worry. It’s not like you’re selling your soul,” he crooned, as if he’d read my mind. “You’ll help the cat queen. It will be like one of your old cases.”
Yeah, Keaty was famous for being a fan of pro-bono cases that put us under the thumb of a vampire elder.
I sighed. What was done was done. I’d agreed to take on Genevieve’s case, and I would help her. The implications could be dealt with later. For now I would file the whole thing under helping a friend in need so I could think about it without getting dizzy.
This time it was my turn to say, “Let’s go.”
A wave of bodies surged forward through the main doors of Madison Square Garden, and I was caught up in the swell. I wasn’t a fan of crowds at the best of times, so Lucas had to know I was making an effort when I agreed to meet him here to see a Rangers game.
I’d grown up in Canada, so a love for hockey was as second nature as breathing, but I liked to watch it from the safety of my living room, or on the TV at a downtrodden sports bar. The only reason I’d agreed to come was that it was a late-night charity fundraiser game, and I hadn’t expected it to be busy. Turns out I know nothing about crowd mentality when it comes to hockey. This many people all crushed together, their adrenaline pumping, their pulses twitching with the vigor of their collective excitement…
My gums ached, and my breath hitched.
Stupid wolf king and his bright ideas. We’d be lucky if I got to the second period without singling out the old and the weak. I was already scanning the crowd for easy targets.
I didn’t feed on humans. It was one of those rules I had etched in stone, a line in the sand I would never step over. My blood came from donor bags and was stored safely in my fridge at home. But just because I didn’t allow myself to feed on people didn’t mean the urge wasn’t there. I was half-vampire, and the siren song of blood could sometimes crash into me with a demanding frenzy, like a heroin junkie aching for one more fix.
If I didn’t get hold of myself, I was going to be in trouble. I could feel my sharp canines throbbing against my gums, begging for release, and I had no doubt my pupils were swelling to take over my brown irises.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought ahead. I’d eaten before leaving the council headquarters, indulging in the small blood supply I’d insisted they keep there for me when I’d realized they expected me to feed on living donors like they did. But you wouldn’t know I’d taken proactive measures now. The din of Madison Square Garden was threatening to turn me into the monster I was capable of being.
A shudder rippled through me as the flavor of cinnamon filled my mouth. My lupine energy awoke like a sleeping dragon and expanded outward until my whole body vibrated with the blistering heat of it. It quieted the vampire urges.
I hadn’t realized how tense I was until my inner wolf curbed the out-of-control-vampire part of me. Usually it was the cool, collected vampire who kept my wolf on a leash, but this time my lycanthrope nature had been called out in the nick of time. And she hadn’t woken up because of me.
She was awake because of the heady taste in my mouth telling me the wolf king was nearby.
He might never know how close to the edge I’d been, but he’d pulled me back just in time. My heart leapt. I didn’t love Lucas the way I loved Desmond, but it didn’t mean I felt nothing for him.
I spun on my heels, scanning the crowd for Lucas. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be difficult to spot. Tall, blond and handsome, he drew attention wherever we went. But with this many people around, he’d be playing it cool, toning down his larger-than-life aura the best he could. Being a media-shy billionaire meant he had learned how to blend, even though he was born to stand out.
The Red Sox ball cap gave him away.
God love my werewolf boyfriends, but the one thing they couldn’t agree on was baseball. They had the same taste in movies, music, food and obviously women, but they turned into bitter rivals when the topic of the MLB came up. Desmond was New York proud to the core and swore he bled Yankee blue. Lucas was such a big Boston fan he’d actually purchased the franchise. They could share a girlfriend, but they would come to blows over the World Series. Go figure.
Lucas sidled up to me, and though my heels gave me a slight advantage, I still needed to look up to see his smile. Funny how his silly grin could light a spark inside me, even when I was worried I might start biting people any second. The reaction I had to Lucas was akin to ice cream melting on a piece of hot apple pie. Sticky-sweet and instantly comforting.
He stooped and gave me a chaste kiss on the lips, placing both his big hands on the small of my back, sending a wave of warmth through my lower body. I grazed his chin with my nose, then kissed the bow in his lower lip as the last of my anxiety shivered out of me. It was no secret how ecstatic I’d been when he shaved off his beard a few months earlier. His stubbled chin was as much facial hair as I wanted to deal with when we got to smooching.
“Hi,” he whispered, tugging at my fancy hairdo. “You’re a little dressed up for hockey.”
I twisted my mouth into a sly smile. “Yeah, sorry. I’m meeting my billionaire boyfriend here. You’d better not let him see you flirting with me. He’s real mean.”
“Oh yeah? Big, brawny, jealous type?” He pulled me closer. The crowd had started to thin as people moved into the arena to find their seats.
“You know it.” I took one of his hands in mine and stepped out of his embrace. Without letting go of my grip, he spun me so his arm was looped around my shoulder and we were still holding hands.
“Let’s get upstairs.” His tone was more serious than before, but there was no edge of lust to the words. He wanted to talk business, not go at it in his private box. My assessment was confirmed when he added, “Something’s happened, and we need to talk about it before the whole pack finds out.”