Half rolling off his prone form, I shook his shoulder gently. “Your phone.”
I was really sick and tired of getting woken up by phones, by the way. Next time we turned in, I’d personally make sure all the telephones in the house had the ringers switched off.
Alex’s reply was a mumbled grumble.
“I can’t bring it to you. It’s upstairs. The sunshine-filled upstairs. Get up.” My nudging, not very gentle this second time, had the desired effect of at least getting him to open his eyes. Whoever was calling was persistent, because the ringing continued while Alex took his time getting to his feet and climbing the stairs.
I could pretend to have learned my lesson and say I chose the high road, but I admit that the only reason I didn’t listen in on his conversation had nothing to do with ethics. I was simply too sleepy to pay attention to it. I made myself as comfortable as possible and dozed off again.
When Alex returned to the basement, I awoke long enough to hold my arms up to him, thinking I’d have to get up too. Instead he joined me in bed once more. “Roebuck warned me to stay away from his investigation,” he said without preamble. “Either that or cover my tracks better. If he hears about me looking into it again, he’ll sic Internal Affairs on me.”
“Can he do that?” Sleep was weighing heavily on me, making it hard to remain alert. The possibility of Alex being investigated by Internal Affairs, however, was too important for me to give in to my drowsiness. “What will he say?”
He gave me what looked like the facial expression equivalent of a shrug. “That I’m acting outside the law. Pursuing my own interests. He doesn’t have to make it stick, just have them up my ass.”
I could feel my brow furrow and consciously relaxed it. Vampires don’t get wrinkles, but we do get tension headaches. “Doesn’t he owe you?”
“Says he’s doing it for me, that I’m in over my head working this alone.” He turned me so my back was to him and enfolded me in his arms. The hairs on his forearm tickled my chin. I found that oddly comforting.
“Maybe you should lie low for a while to get him off your back,” I said. “I can take it from here.” Not that I knew what there was for me to take; we’d more or less been running in circles and chasing our tails so far. Sure, we had figured out that at least one of the council members was corrupt and plotting nefarious schemes, but unless we found out more, there was nothing we could do.
“We’ve already covered that,” he said. “The answer is no. Now sleep. I want to catch some shut-eye.” He kissed the back of my head and tightened the sheets around us.
I pushed one of my feet between his shins. “Yes, sir.”
I’d really screwed up his sleeping pattern, turned his night into day, and vice versa. That would be bad when the case was over and we didn’t absolutely
have
to spend day and night together.
That last thought was depressing enough to keep me up the rest of the day.
Chapter Fifteen
I doubt Alex would have taken as long to prepare for a date as he did to receive Constantine.
He didn’t shower, and his scowl when I mentioned I’d like to freshen up deterred me from doing so myself, but he took his time applying gel to his hair, only to muss it up to what he considered perfection. I thought his hair looked adorable—and exactly the same—both before and after he’d painstakingly separated and positioned the curls in a way that showed he’d just gotten out of bed, but I was too busy biting back my comments about what a girl he was being to say anything about it.
The best part was when time came for him to put a shirt on, and he realized he’d have to do his hair all over again, because the neckline of the tight white t-shirt he’d chosen—with comfort and not muscle definition in mind, I’m sure—dared touch the top of his head. That was when I decided the sight was too much for me. I hopped off the toilet lid where I’d been sitting and watching him and put on a pair of skintight jeans and a sleeveless top that wasn’t revealing enough for Alex to think I was putting extra effort into looking enticing for my ex’s sake. I did put on some lipstick and used one of the makeup-removing pads I never left home without to erase the smudges of eyeliner and eye shadow from the previous night that had formed around my eyes, though. Not trying too hard didn’t mean I had to look like a clown.
Alex’s deodorant suffused my nostrils. If his refusing to shower had been so that Constantine could smell me on him, the deodorant would dull that effect significantly, since vampires don’t have intense body scent to begin with. Still, I knew Constantine would smell Alex on me. I hoped that wasn’t a bad thing.
The doorbell rang once. My former lover had always been a gentleman—when he wasn’t banging a two-bit, ancient whore.
I looked at Alex. I could be at the door before the spray can that was still in his hand had touched the shelf above the sink, but the alpha dog in him would no doubt find that insulting, to say the least.
He placed his palm at the small of my back, like he’d done that first day we’d met. “Let’s not keep our guest waiting.” His smirk was scary.
I spun so I could face him and said, “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
His gray eyes looked almost black as he stared at me for a split second before the hardness melted from the corners of his mouth and his lips parted in a boyish grin. “I promise not to do anything stupid
first
.”
It would have to do.
Upon reaching the stairs, I stepped aside for him to lead the way, and my gaze fell to the back pocket of his jeans.
There was something there I thought had been left behind in the car.
The stake I’d made for Willoughby.
* * * *
I missed Alex’s reaction when he opened the door because I was too busy doing a double take at the vampire on the doorstep.
It was Constantine all right, but the version of him smiling at us was one I hadn’t encountered so far. His hair, loose, cascaded over his shoulders, which were bare except for the straps of his tank top, and his arms hung relaxed at his sides, thumbs in the belt loops of his faded jeans. Tan cowboy boots completed the ensemble. I hadn’t even known he owned a pair of those, or any kind of shoe that wasn’t patent leather and polished until you could see your image in it.
He stood underneath the porch light, the halo forming around him carving his shape out of the night behind him in stark relief. I bet he was fully aware of how the luminescence added to his natural gorgeousness.
“What’s with the disguise?” I asked. Focusing on how out of character he appeared was better than focusing on how hot that out of characterness looked. And it looked
sizzling
!
He was looking at me as if I were naked, and for a moment I felt just that: naked and exposed to his shameless charm, with no defense but the human beside me.
Alex, more polite on his worst day than I could be on my best behavior, held out his right hand. I knew he’d rather it be clenched in a fist, but he managed to keep his tension out of both his posture and his voice. “Alex Marsden.” I guess he could afford to be polite; his saliva wasn’t threatening to spill down his chin.
Constantine’s eyes widened in surprise for an instant before he shook the proffered hand. “Constantine,” he said. He didn’t offer his last name, and Alex didn’t ask for it.
When neither of them had broken the handshake or said something as dishonest as
nice to meet you
after a couple of very long seconds, I realized the greeting was, in fact, a macho territorial thing. Good thing neither of them was literally Alpha
Dog
, or I’d have had a pissing contest to deal with. I hoped Alex wasn’t trying to establish dominance by squeezing Constantine’s palm too hard because if Constantine squeezed back, Alex’s hand would soon look like raw burger. I listened. Nope, there was no sound of crunching bone.
Shifting my gaze from their clasped hands to Constantine’s face, I saw he was sizing Alex up. They were the same height, give or take a quarter of an inch, but Constantine had cocked his head back and slightly to the side, so he was looking down at Alex. One glance at Alex revealed he was more or less appraising the competition as well.
Fun, fun, fun!
I was about to pipe up and ask what the urgency of the meeting was all about or just tickle their sides—anything to break the stalemate—when Constantine raised one corner of his upper lip enough to show a long white fang. “Aren’t you going to invite me inside, Mr. Marsden?” He was using his mesmerizing voice.
Fuck
! I hadn’t expected him to pull that crap on Alex. Why hadn’t I seen that coming? Why hadn’t I warned Alex not to hold his gaze? Because to me Constantine was not the enemy. What was more, since I wasn’t considering Alex my prey, I had overlooked the fact that he
was
prey to Constantine.
Before I could try to snap Alex out of the mind hold my ex had imposed on him, Alex said, “Come in, Constantine.”
Which, of course, the bastard did, sneering when Alex got out of his way and motioned for me to do the same. “You will remember I made you invite me inside but believe that this is the last I will mess with your free will.” He glanced my way. “No matter what Cherry tells you.”
Way to cover his bases. Would it have been my fault if I grabbed the stake from Alex’s pants and went for a certain overconfident vampire’s heart? I settled for glaring at him instead, but with the same lethal intention.
Alex nodded. When he spoke next, his voice was clear. “Just so you know, I believe you, but I have a stake in my pocket.” My man and I were in sync.
Constantine, who’d just made himself comfortable in the armchair, stared at the front of Alex’s pants, and I saw that as the perfect opening to get back at him for having been a jerk moments earlier. “Stake’s in the back pocket. That’s all him.”
I could feel both men’s stunned stares on my back as I made my way to the kitchen. “Can’t do this without a beer,” I said over my shoulder. “Too weird. Anyone else want something?”
Alex asked for a beer too, and Constantine said he’d have a scotch if I didn’t have any blood. Scotch it would be, and I’d be naughty enough to water it, just because I could.
“I’ll be right back. Meantime, play nice.” Not that I trusted them to do so, which was why I tried to hear everything they said while I was gone.
Unfortunately, keeping the beer from fizzing out of the glass took up enough of my concentration that I missed whatever it was that made Constantine laugh. Hearing his laughter, however, was enough to worry me. Had he decapitated Alex and was he now showering in his blood, like I bet used to be his customary dance of triumph once upon a time?
Balancing all three glasses on a tray, I pushed the kitchen door open with my foot and returned to the living room as fast as I could without becoming a blur to the human eye or spilling the drinks.
The danger of spillage was more imminent when I stopped than it had been while I’d been in motion; the sight that greeted me was enough to make me think the world was spinning backward. I mean, I’d asked the men to play nice but hadn’t honestly expected the level of nice I came upon.
Constantine was sprawled in the armchair, looking at the ceiling and shaking his head in disbelief, while Alex half sat on the armrest of the couch and nodded vigorously. “That’s what I thought she was, man. It was an honest mistake! You’d have thought the same.”
Hearing me approach, my former lover raised his head in a motion so fast that it reminded me of a serpent ready to attack its prey. Did that make me a helpless little mouse? Nah—a bird. Better be a bird. “Maybe our lessons in sophistication didn’t do as much good as I’d thought,” he said, his eyes narrowed, but not enough that I couldn’t see the glint of mirth in their irises.
“Your lessons in landing my mark worked like a charm, though,” I said, not skipping a beat. For once I was extremely grateful I had no circulation and was spared the embarrassment of blushing from either the memory of the misunderstanding between Alex and me during our first encounter, or that of Constantine’s…lessons. I placed the tray on the coffee table, handed Constantine his liquor, and passed Alex his beer. Then I took my own and sat on the couch next to my current boyfriend, my arm draped over his thigh.
“What exactly were you wearing, that our dear Alex thought you were a…working girl?” He was so not dropping the subject.
Argh!
I’d make him drop it. “How’s Sheena doing? Are you two getting along?” If my grin was any wider, it was entirely possible that my face would split in half and each part would roll off my skull.
Constantine took a sip of his drink and grimaced. “To be perfectly honest, Ms. Herring is a pain. She asks questions about everything, flirts with me shamelessly, demands constant attention, and is
loud
. Other than that, she is fine and sends her regards. She is not why I’m here, however.”
“She’s not?”
He shook his head. “Ádísa is.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Had she sent him?
Alex tensed beside me. He leaned forward, apparently interested in whatever Constantine had to say next. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the top of the stake jut out of his pocket. I moved my hand from Alex’s leg to his shoulder, then ran it down his back, all the way to his waistband. I didn’t think we had much of a chance if Alex was proven right as to Constantine’s loyalties, but if it came to that, we’d go down fighting.
“What about her?” Okay, so I couldn’t have possibly said
her
any more disdainfully.
“She and another of the current council members are the ones who organized your turning.” I couldn’t believe his calm.
I curled my fingers around the stake but not so I could free it from its denim sheath. Holding on to it was somehow like holding on to reality itself. Hearing my suspicions confirmed had shocked me more than having Santa or a village full of Smurfs introduced to me could have.
“How long have you known?” It was of immense significance for me to find out.
“I found out after you and I broke up, but she’d been the one who insisted I become your mentor.” He cradled his glass with both hands, staring at the amber liquid as though it held the answer to some invaluable mystery.