took the tiny weapon and turned it this way and that, looking it over. It seemed pretty simple and straightforward. “Why do we need tranquilizer darts? You guys expecting to run into a herd of angry elephants or something?”
“Those darts aren’t for animals, Seth,” Roxy explained.
“They’re for vamps. They’re doped with the only tranquilizer that will work on you guys. The only one I know of, at least.”
Seth frowned, then nodded. “I guess we could use it against the rogue vampires if we had to. Yeah. Not a bad idea.” He looked at Reaper again. The man was oddly silent. “Don’t you want to carry one, Reap?”
“The tranquilizer isn’t to protect you from the rogues, Seth. It’s to protect you from me.”
Seth started to laugh, thinking the miserable fuck had actually made a joke. But there was a grimness in his tone, a darkness in his eyes, that had the laugh dying in Seth’s throat before it was even born. His smile faded, and he searched Reaper’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Reaper lowered his gaze. “I’m not going to go into detail or bare my soul or my history or my flaws to you, Seth. This is not up for discussion. It’s my personal business, and it’s off-limits. I will only say that if I should ever turn on you in an apparently mindless burst of violent rage, you will need to act and act fast, or die. If it happens—if it even looks like it’s happening—use the tranquilizer. Don’t hesitate.”
Seth opened his mouth, then closed it again as question after question tried to get out. Why would Reaper turn on him? What the hell was he talking about? Did he have some kind of split personality-Jekyll-and-Hyde thing going on, or a brain tumor or what? But Reaper wasn’t going to tell him any more. He’d made that clear. So Seth settled on one question, the only one he thought might elicit an answer.
“Can the tranq do you any lasting harm?”
Reaper looked at Roxy for the answer.
“No,” she said, and she said it firmly, with a shake of her head that had all that long hair swinging. “It’ll knock him cold, and he’ll wake up with a hell of a hangover. That’s all.”
Seth nodded and faced Reaper again. The guy looked really miserable. As if even broaching this subject was ripping into his guts, and Seth hated that. He needed to lighten things up. “Okay, then. I got it. I just need you to make me one promise.”
“And what would that be?” Reaper asked.
“If I misread you and shoot you by mistake when you weren’t actually intending to eat me for lunch, you can’t be mad at me when you wake up.”
Reaper scowled at him.
“Dude, I’m serious here. If I have to worry about being wrong and pissing you off, I’ll hesitate, and you’ll have time to rip me a new one before I pull the trigger. So you have to promise.”
Eyes narrowed, Reaper nodded. “All right. I promise.”
Seth grinned. “Man, this is great. You so much as look at me funny, I get to pop you with the Noisy Cricket. And you can’t even get mad about it. You are so gonna regret this.”
“Seth.” It was a warning, Reaper’s tone dangerous.
“Whoa, that sounded menacing. Did it sound menacing to you, Roxy?” Seth glanced at the gun in his hand. “Maybe I should shoot him now.”
Reaper glared at him.
Seth lowered the weapon and wiped the grin off his face. As usual, his attempts at humor were hitting a brick wall. “Hey, come on. I was kidding. I’m not gonna pop you with this thing. Come on, man, don’t look like that.”
Sighing, not saying a single word to Seth, Reaper climbed into the van and took a seat all the way in the rear. “Let’s get going, Roxy. We need to see this Topaz woman before we can go any farther.”
Roxy handed Seth a holster. She was already wearing one of her own, with a tranq gun tucked into it. Then she closed the weapon door and climbed up into the driver’s seat. Seth took the one beside her.
As she backed the van out of the driveway, Seth glanced at her and whispered, “I was kidding.”
“Hey, I thought it was funny as hell.”
He smiled, relieved. “Does he ever lighten up, Roxy?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen. But I’ll tell you one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re good for him. Real good.”
“Hell, he can barely stand me.”
“Trust me, I know these things.”
Reaper sat up straighter in his far backseat and said, “People, I am a vampire. I have preternatural hearing. I could listen to your entire conversation from a half mile away. From here, it’s as if you’re on a loudspeaker.”
Roxy looked over her shoulder at him and said, “Fuck you, Raphael.” Then she grinned and sent Seth a wink. “Yep, you’re gonna be good for him.”
Topaz had packed several bags and dressed to kill. She wore a short skintight black dress, with a chain-link belt draped around her hips, black thigh-high stockings with seams up the back and lace on the top, and opentoed spike heels with straps that criss-crossed once, encircled her leg just above the ankle and buckled there. They had twenty-four-karat gold heart charms dangling from their straps. Her hair was sleek and smooth, and her makeup perfect.
She looked so good that Jack would probably weep when he saw her.
Bastard.
She was stacking her bags near the mansion’s front door when she felt the presence of another vampire—no, two of them—nearby.
And one of the Chosen, as well.
Instinctively, she ducked to one side of the door, to get out of plain sight, and peered out the window. Yes, three people, two men and a woman, were standing near the end of her curving white gravel drive, just waiting there.
She squinted, and spoke with her mind. Come any closer and you’ll regret it.
The reply came immediately, from a man she didn’t know. We only want to talk to you. It won’t take long, and we’re no threat.
And I’m supposed to take your word for that? Any vampire who trusted unmet, undead strangers was asking for trouble, Topaz thought. And she was not stupid. I wasn’t transformed yesterday, you know.
We need to ask a few questions, that’s all. It’s about a man who calls himself Jack of Hearts.
Her reaction was so instinctive that she couldn’t hide it. A surge of emotions—passion, pain, desire, anger—all twisted up into one ball of feeling, just welled up and burst from her, and she wasn’t quick enough or disciplined enough to hide it in time. She knew they’d felt it. Damn. She tried to pretend it hadn’t happened,
