‘You can talk all you want. I’m here as a deterrent. And if they decide to kill you, I’m here to take as many of them with us as I can.’
I blinked. ‘An ogre could kill you?’
‘If enough of them work together then yes. I’m not immortal or invincible.’
‘You’re the deadliest assassin that ever lived.’
‘That’s what my LinkedIn says,’ he commented dryly. ‘But even I would struggle against a horde of ogres. Don’t get me wrong, I’d make a sizeable dent in them first, but I’d end up as dead as you.’
‘Uplifting,’ I sassed.
‘I’m not here to be your cheerleader.’
‘Just to be my bodyguard. Have you seen that movie? Because to be clear, I don’t want a Kevin Costner situation. Greg and I are getting our flirt on.’
‘About time too,’ Bastion muttered. ‘You move slower than a glacier,’ he commented to Greg.
Greg coloured slightly. ‘She’s flighty. I didn’t want to scare her off.’
‘Flighty? I’m not flighty,’ I protested. ‘I’m independent and fierce.’
‘Those things too,’ Greg agreed.
The cottage door opened and who should step out but Voltaire. He was dressed in black, which was incognito mode for the Red Guard. He saw me and smiled, then in a blink of an eye he was in front of me.
Esme growled and it took everything in us to resist the urge to use a lightning shift to teach the vampyr some manners.
‘Barrett,’ he sneered. ‘Hiring some muscle, since yours is so feeble?’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Is that the best you can come up with?’
‘Believe me, your lovely friend saw my best.’ He leered.
I snorted. ‘If that’s your best, then she wasn’t impressed.’ I was talking out of my ass; I had no idea what Sharon had done with him, or whether he’d been good at it. But something about him always rubbed me up the wrong way. I think it was the way he was a prick.
His jaw tightened in anger and he stepped even closer to me.
‘Enough,’ Bastion growled. ‘Step back, vampyr.’
‘Or what?’
‘Or you’ll be dust,’ the griffin said simply.
It seemed Voltaire had some preservation instincts left because he stepped back and watched Bastion warily. He shifted from personal to business. ‘Do you know of any black witches practising in the area?’
I frowned. I didn’t want to share information with him, though he wasn’t exactly the enemy; in fact, I was technically under his protection. Remembering that helped me relax. He’d given me his word that he couldn’t harm me. If he broke it, he’d be killed – or worse. ‘We don’t know any personally,’ I admitted. ‘But I have some proof that one is operating around here.’
‘What proof?’
I didn’t think Amber would be happy with me blabbing about witchy business. ‘Why do you want to know?’
Voltaire wrestled with himself. ‘In the past year, a number of vampyrs have gone missing from both Lord Wokeshire’s and Lord Rimble’s clans. There is no evidence they have gone clanless.’
More kidnappings? My stomach lurched. If this had been going on for over a year, then the kidnappers were already practised at it. Okay, okay, maybe it was a different set of kidnappers operating in the same area – but that didn’t seem likely. It didn’t bode well that none of the missing vampyrs had been found. I promised myself that Bobby would be different. I thought of Sonia; hehadto be.
‘Any evidence they’ve been taken rather than been made into dust?’ Greg asked.
‘Yes,’ Voltaire said simply.