horsewhipped for my rudeness.”
She cocked her head to one side. “No, a funky little flogger should do the trick.” She huffed. “Stop trying to bullshit me. I’ll go get Juma.”
Jack banished the image of Rose with a flogger and shook his head. “I’ve only seen Linda once—I insist on meeting my rescues first, to verify the situation—and it was obvious she’d been beaten, and badly.” An appropriate uneasiness crossed Rose’s face. Good. “This might get ugly, so it makes more sense for me to go alone. I’m used to this stuff.” If one ever gets used to it. “I’m not a thief. I’ll bring your van back.”
“No,” Rose said. “I’m driving. And I don’t see why Juma can’t just wait in the van.”
“And I don’t see why you can’t just stay here,” Jack said, but Rose deigned no more than a glare.
He threw up his hands. “Juma can’t come because it might be dangerous. I don’t anticipate any problems, but Juma’s a minor and I can’t take chances with her. At least you’re an adult, and you have your own built-in weapons.”
That’s right. Think of the damn things as weapons, not instruments of pleasure most supreme.
“Not that I want you to use them,” he said, putting up a hand.
That was dumb. Really dumb, because in a flash the tenor of their conversation changed. Rose laughed, and her smile lit up the dusk. Their eyes clashed, and heat swept over Jack. “Of course you don’t.” She ran her tongue across her upper lip, holding his eyes.
Jack dragged his gaze away, cleared his throat, and focused on the pink and gold sky behind the pines. This was yet another of the things he couldn’t stand about vamps. Sex was always in the air, always, even when it should be the last thing on anyone’s mind. Which was a mighty hypocritical attitude for Jack Tallis, since what had attracted him to Titania was her appetite for plenty of sex. More than that—almost a surfeit of sex. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“Jeez, Jack. Don’t freak out. I was joking.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell Juma what’s going on.”
Rose followed Jack’s directions to a rundown strip mall containing a convenience store, a church in a tiny storefront, a dry cleaner, and a nail salon. Jack pointed past the Dumpster and a sagging wooden fence to the backyards of a subdivision. “See that white house? Her place is across from it, a couple of houses down. I’ll cut through, scope things out, and be right back. Half an hour, forty-five minutes tops.” He jumped down into the gathering dusk. A chill wind sneaked into the van.
“Be quick. I’m really worried about Juma.”
Jack lifted a shoulder. “She’s a survivor.”
“She’s frightened, and she was not happy at being left there alone.” Rose rubbed the gooseflesh on her upper arms.
“Was that my change you gave her?”
“Sure, so she could get a Coke or something if we take too long.”
He blew out a breath, shaking his head. “You gave her too much.” But before she could tell him what she thought of his stinginess, he jogged away and disappeared behind the Dumpster.
She thought, but couldn’t be sure, that she saw him climbing over the fence. Straining her eyes, which were far better in the dark than a normal person’s, she still couldn’t tell whether that flutter in the leafless vines at the lip of the gully was Jack. Impressive, Rose thought wistfully. Not onlythat, he was educated, read poetry, liked music, wore a football jacket…and didn’t want her for sex.
Be careful what you wish for, Rose.
She turned her mind to practical matters. Poor Miles had lost his wife recently and now was worried sick about his little shop, perhaps with good reason. Rose knew almost nothing about Violet, only that the Louisiana woman, more than anyone else in the online vamp group, had been a lifesaver in the insane period after Lou’s death: a font of practical advice on allure management, boyfriend control, and so on,
She cocked her head to one side. “No, a funky little flogger should do the trick.” She huffed. “Stop trying to bullshit me. I’ll go get Juma.”
Jack banished the image of Rose with a flogger and shook his head. “I’ve only seen Linda once—I insist on meeting my rescues first, to verify the situation—and it was obvious she’d been beaten, and badly.” An appropriate uneasiness crossed Rose’s face. Good. “This might get ugly, so it makes more sense for me to go alone. I’m used to this stuff.” If one ever gets used to it. “I’m not a thief. I’ll bring your van back.”
“No,” Rose said. “I’m driving. And I don’t see why Juma can’t just wait in the van.”
“And I don’t see why you can’t just stay here,” Jack said, but Rose deigned no more than a glare.
He threw up his hands. “Juma can’t come because it might be dangerous. I don’t anticipate any problems, but Juma’s a minor and I can’t take chances with her. At least you’re an adult, and you have your own built-in weapons.”
That’s right. Think of the damn things as weapons, not instruments of pleasure most supreme.
“Not that I want you to use them,” he said, putting up a hand.
That was dumb. Really dumb, because in a flash the tenor of their conversation changed. Rose laughed, and her smile lit up the dusk. Their eyes clashed, and heat swept over Jack. “Of course you don’t.” She ran her tongue across her upper lip, holding his eyes.
Jack dragged his gaze away, cleared his throat, and focused on the pink and gold sky behind the pines. This was yet another of the things he couldn’t stand about vamps. Sex was always in the air, always, even when it should be the last thing on anyone’s mind. Which was a mighty hypocritical attitude for Jack Tallis, since what had attracted him to Titania was her appetite for plenty of sex. More than that—almost a surfeit of sex. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“Jeez, Jack. Don’t freak out. I was joking.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell Juma what’s going on.”
Rose followed Jack’s directions to a rundown strip mall containing a convenience store, a church in a tiny storefront, a dry cleaner, and a nail salon. Jack pointed past the Dumpster and a sagging wooden fence to the backyards of a subdivision. “See that white house? Her place is across from it, a couple of houses down. I’ll cut through, scope things out, and be right back. Half an hour, forty-five minutes tops.” He jumped down into the gathering dusk. A chill wind sneaked into the van.
“Be quick. I’m really worried about Juma.”
Jack lifted a shoulder. “She’s a survivor.”
“She’s frightened, and she was not happy at being left there alone.” Rose rubbed the gooseflesh on her upper arms.
“Was that my change you gave her?”
“Sure, so she could get a Coke or something if we take too long.”
He blew out a breath, shaking his head. “You gave her too much.” But before she could tell him what she thought of his stinginess, he jogged away and disappeared behind the Dumpster.
She thought, but couldn’t be sure, that she saw him climbing over the fence. Straining her eyes, which were far better in the dark than a normal person’s, she still couldn’t tell whether that flutter in the leafless vines at the lip of the gully was Jack. Impressive, Rose thought wistfully. Not onlythat, he was educated, read poetry, liked music, wore a football jacket…and didn’t want her for sex.
Be careful what you wish for, Rose.
She turned her mind to practical matters. Poor Miles had lost his wife recently and now was worried sick about his little shop, perhaps with good reason. Rose knew almost nothing about Violet, only that the Louisiana woman, more than anyone else in the online vamp group, had been a lifesaver in the insane period after Lou’s death: a font of practical advice on allure management, boyfriend control, and so on,
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