A Girl's Guide to Vampires (Dark Ones #1)

A Girl's Guide to Vampires (Dark Ones #1) Page 18

"Found him! Come on. He's in the west garden."

I looked up from the stones scattered in front of me on the casting cloth I'd bought earlier and frowned at Roxy. "The line of people standing here might have escaped your notice, but I am busy right now, Rox."

Although we had arrived a couple of hours before the festival itself was due to begin, Dominic had arranged for the more popular attractions of the fair to be open early on the grounds of Drahansk¨¢, including the tarot, rune stone, and aura photography booths, as well as a stage set up for Dominic's magic show, and later a lineup of European Goth bands. I had been reading runes nonstop since we arrived a short while earlier.

"You told me to find Christian. I found him."

"Damn." I smiled reassuringly at the woman sitting in front of me before turning back to Roxy. "Do me a favor and go find Renee. She said she'd spell me if I needed a break." Roxy sped off to find Arielle's friend while I hurried through as many readings as I could before she returned.

"I'm not very good at this," Renee told me in breathless French as she maneuvered her very pregnant self into the chair I vacated for her. "But I will try."

"I won't be long," I promised her. "I know you're helping Arielle with the tarot readings."

I gave her the hematite stones Arielle had been using and reiterated that I'd be back shortly, then headed off to speak with Christian. On the way, I ran into Raphael and Inspector Bartos. They were deep in discussion and didn't notice me when I made my way to them.

" - forensic report must confirm that," Raphael was saying.

"Unfortunately, the forensic examination has not yet been completed," Inspector Bartos replied, his eyes on the crowd. I had noticed several of his people mingling with the festival-goers, as well as an unusually high number of uniformed police. I gathered they were there to not only keep the peace, but to nab Milos if he turned rabid again. That is, if they weren't there to grab Raphael. "This is not Lyon, Mr. St. John. We do not have such resources at the tips of our fingers. As for your suggestion regarding - ah, Miss Randall."

Both Inspector Bartos and Raphael turned to look at me. Neither looked particularly happy with what they saw. I gave the inspector a toothy grin and latched on to Raphael's arm, a suspicion growing in my mind. "Evening, Inspector. Pardon me for interrupting what sounds like a fascinating conversation. I don't suppose you care to continue it?"

Both men just looked at me.

"No? What a shame. Raphael, if I might have a word with you?"

I pulled on his arm, but he stood firm, his eyes wary. "What about?"

"Christian," I hissed, still smiling at Inspector Bartos. His mustache looked unhappy with me. "He's in the west garden."

"I know where he is."

I stopped tugging on his arm. "How do you know?"

The corners of Raphael's lips quirked. "Baby, I told you I wasn't going to allow you to go ahead with your plan to play detective."

"You odiously arrogant man!" I immediately understood exactly what he was saying. "You're having Christian followed? Who else, Raphael? Milos, I hope, but what about Dominic? Why stop there? Why not have Arielle, Roxy, and me followed as well? Sheesh!"

A familiar exasperated expression began to form on his face. "Joy, I've explained this all before, but I'll do it one more time on the chance that this time you'll heed me and do as I ask. You are not going to poke around trying to find out who murdered Tanya."

"I have no need to poke around. I know who murdered Tanya. It's Milos," I told Inspector Bartos, just in case Raphael hadn't. He pulled out his notebook and made a note.

"You are not going to convince me that Christian Dante is a vampire."

"A Dark One," I explained to Inspector Bartos. "They're kind of benign vampires, but I expect you know all about them, having lived here."

He licked the end of his pencil and made another note.

"And furthermore," Raphael said, "you are going to do everything I ask you to do this evening, starting with staying put at your rune table."

"You really do think you're the cat's pajamas, don't you?" I asked Raphael, annoyed with his arrogance. He might be everything I ever wanted in a man, but that didn't mean I was going to let him do something stupid when I could prevent disaster.

"Cat's... " Inspector Bartos asked, his pencil poised above his notepad.

"Pajamas. It's an expression that means Raphael thinks I'm helpless against his masculine charms, which is just ridiculous, because I'm trying to save his sorry hide. That reminds me - I want to have a little talk with you later about some misconceptions you might have about him."

"Joy." Raphael's voice sounded like that of a particularly hard-pressed saint. "Go back to your table."

"No. If you won't come with me to see Christian and let him knock off some of those blinkers you're wearing, I'll go by myself."

"You will not."

"Oh, really? And just how are you going to stop me, have me arrested?"

"If I have to."

I looked at Inspector Bartos. He smiled. I gaped at him. "You wouldn't dare!"

His moustache smiled, too.

"Ha ha ha, you guys are so funny." I started to edge away, picking up speed quickly until I called the last few words over my shoulder. "Well, I think I'll be taking a little walk now. See you both later."

I dashed off, Raphael's sexy chuckle caressing my ears. I didn't for one moment believe Inspector Bartos would arrest me on Raphael's say-so, not even if my growing suspicion about the two of them was true, but I really didn't want to leave Renee at the rune table long.

I passed Arielle's table and paused for a moment to see how she was doing, and to tell her that I'd be sending Renee back to help her as soon as I could.

"I am fine, thank you," she said with a watery smile. Her eyes still looked red and swollen, but all in all, she was holding up remarkably well. I spun around and dashed through the line of people waiting to have their cards read, almost mowing down Henri in the process.

"Sorry, Henri. I'm in a bit of a hurry." He muttered an apology and stepped back as I threw myself back into the crowds. I headed toward the west garden, but suddenly made a detour when I saw Dominic slobbering over the hand of an extremely buxom woman dressed in fishnet stockings, PVC, and fake blood running out of an equally fake wound on her neck. Considering Tanya's death, it gave me a bit of the heebie-jeebies, but I swallowed my revulsion and waved to catch Dominic's eye.

"Mon ange," he said, looking a bit embarrassed about being caught fawning over another woman's hand. "I thought you were reading the runes now?"

"Just taking a little break. Renee's covering for me. I just wanted to let you know that I'll read them until nine, and then I'm calling it quits."

He smiled and reached for my hand. I snatched it back and turned around, running smack dab into Henri again.

"Sorry, Henri. Guess I'm two for two with you, huh? Did I hurt your toes? No? Great. See you later!"

Off I went again at a fast trot, or as fast a trot as I could manage in the huge horde of people that had descended upon the well-groomed grounds of Christian's castle. I veered around a maze, realized I was going in the wrong direction, turned around, and raced around the corner to head to the west.

"Damn!" I rubbed my nose where it had smacked into Henri as he barreled around the corner toward me. I blinked back the stars, and glared at him. "Oh! Henri, are you following me?"

Henri, a nice guy with warm brown eyes and a rather shy smile, looked horrified. He stammered out a feeble excuse, which I trampled over brutally. "Tell Raphael I don't need a nursemaid." I zipped past him, heading in the right direction for the west gardens. "And stop following me!"

He followed me anyway. When I stopped to face him, my hands on my hips, he told me he didn't dare ignore Raphael's orders. "He was very adamant that I should remain with you if you left the rune table."

Henri was about my size, but he had a friendly puppy air about him that kept me from laying into him. Besides, it wasn't really him I was angry with - that delight was reserved for Raphael.

"OK," I told him. "You can come with me, but you have to stay out of my way. And no snitching to Raphael what I'm doing."

"Snitching?"

"You can come with me, but you can't report back to him where I've been or whom I've spoken with. OK?"

"OK," he nodded, obviously relieved.

Christian was overseeing the tapping of several oversized kegs of beer arranged in sort of an informal beer garden. Long trestle tables and benches had been placed within the walled garden. Due to its distance from the main stage, the garden was relatively quiet... for the moment. As soon as the beer garden opened its doors, I had no doubt it would be just as mad as the rest of the festival.

"Christian!" I bellowed across the garden and waved to get his notice. One of his servants, a big beefy guy with a wicked scar down one side of his face, stood blocking the entrance and wouldn't let me in. Christian turned and motioned for him to let me pass. I told Henri to wait for me, smiled at and scooted around the behemoth at the gate, trotting down a line of tables to where Christian stood directing the placement of kegs. He'd had torches set along the perimeter of the garden, the flickering light of which cast a medieval feel to the whole setting.

"Christian!"

He turned to face me, his face as pleasant as ever. I examined him closely for a minute, looking for signs that he'd suffered some sort of difficulty, but his eyes were warm, and the ever-present smile lurked just behind his lips. "Are you all right? I've been worried sick about you! Where have you been?"

Both his eyebrows went up in mock surprise. "Such passion. I have been here, readying the estate for the festival."

"You know full well what I'm talking about!" I smacked him on the shoulder, then grabbed his hand and pulled him over to an unoccupied corner. "Where were you last night? I was worried about you after... after Tanya's body was discovered. You heard about that, didn't you?"

He reversed my grip so he was holding my hand, raising it to his lips, his eyes holding mine as he kissed the back of my fingers. Say what you will about women's lib, I had to admit there was something about having my hand kissed that made me go all girly inside.

"You look lovely tonight, my Beloved. However, I must presume to inform you that I do not care for you to be sharing your charms with every man present." He reached to the front of my ruffled blouse. I looked down. The top button, a small faux pearl, was missing, leaving my blouse gaping open, exposing my breasts down to the edge of my very low-cut bra.

I grabbed at the material and clutched it closed. "Damn. Must have happened when I crashed into Henri."

He smiled and flashed his hand. In it was a very old-looking gold brooch of a griffin clutching a large red stone in its beak. "Allow me," he said, brushing aside my hands, pinning the brooch so it closed my blouse.

"It's lovely, Christian, thank you. I'll take very good care of it."

"Consider it a gift from one who admires you."

I didn't want to accept it since it looked valuable, but I figured I'd return it after the festival when I could explain my feelings without insulting him.

"Thank you, but that still doesn't explain why you didn't answer me last night." I peered into his unfathomable eyes.

"My housekeeper said you called," he answered, not batting an eyelash at his obvious evasion. "Alas, I was not at home at that time."

I squinted my eyes at him. "Christian Johann Dante, you know full well what I meant, so don't try to pull that Mr. Innocent crap on me." I put my hand on his wrist and gave it a little squeeze. "I know you heard me; I could feel you out there. Why didn't you answer me?"

He didn't move a muscle, but I felt him withdraw. "I was under the impression you found such form of communication distasteful. Further, I believed from the activities that followed that you preferred your privacy to my company."

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open for a second before I realized what I was doing. "You rotter!"

I bellowed the words so loud, all his staff turned to look.

"You did it on purpose! You wanted me to be worried about you! You wanted me to think you were lying sick or injured somewhere. You great big... POOP!"

A smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. It just made me see red.

"Gah!" I yelled at him in frustration, then stomped off, swearing to myself about men who played mind games. I thanked God Raphael didn't do that. He might be secretive now and then, but at least he told me that he wasn't telling me everything.

"Joy," Christian called after me. I kept walking. He took my arm and walked with me. I refused to look at him. "I will not apologize for my actions, since I cannot regret anything that makes you look upon me with a favored eye, but I do lament the fact that I caused you worry."

"I can't believe you used me like that," I said, a tiny bit mollified. I didn't know if it was the magic his voice worked, or the sincerity in his eyes, but I did at least stop thinking about torturing him. "I can't believe you deliberately let me worry all night and all day about you." Something he said suddenly penetrated the layers of irritation. I stopped and turned to face him. "Hey! What do you mean,'the activities that followed'? How do you know what activities followed? Were you spying on Raphael and me?"

He rubbed the top of my hand with his thumb. I pulled my hand away. I liked it better when Raphael did it. "No, I was not spying on you. I hold you in more esteem than to do that. But you are my Beloved; our minds are as one. I can feel when you are subject to strong emotions, just as you can feel when I am."

A massive wave of blush washed up my chest and neck, firing my cheeks to egg-frying temperature. "You mean you can tell when I'm... when Raphael and I are... you know?"

Distaste flickered across his face, something a whole lot more ominous darkening his eyes. "You may rest assured that I do not savor the knowledge that my Beloved is in the arms of another, but the answer is, yes, I know. Just as you would know should I betray you."

The pain in his eyes was too much for me. I took both his hands in mine, pressing them to my bosom.

Just as I was about to speak, a throat cleared. I turned my head and glared at Henri. "Go stand over by the statue of the horse. You can watch me from there."

He looked a bit mulish about my order until Christian turned his gaze on him. Henri blinked a few times, then backed away, bumping into several people, a large potted tree, and finally colliding with a small iron table that held the cash box for the beer garden. He didn't stop by the statue, however, he kept going. I figured I had only a couple of minutes before he found Raphael and tattled.

I squeezed Christian's hands until he looked back at me. "Christian, I'm so sorry you think I'm betraying you. I truly am, but we've gone over this and over this. I don't have the same feelings for you that you have for me. I just can't be what you want me to be, pure and simple." His fingers tightened around mine. "I know that's cruel of me, and selfish and self-serving, but it's the truth. I love Raphael. I will always love Raphael, and nothing and no one will change that. If you truly can share my emotions, you must know that I'm not deluding myself."

"I know that he has bewitched you, yes. You are fascinated with him, and he arouses you sexually as I do not, but it is apparent from the fact that you have not taken the final step of Joining that deep inside you know the truth."

My blush, which had started to die, was reborn with a vengeance at his mention of the attraction Raphael held for me.

"I feel your emotions, Beloved, feel the depth of your passion and know that the source of them cannot be anyone but myself. You are my Beloved. Because I know this, because I know that ultimately you will be mine, I am allowing you time to rid yourself of the affection you feel for St. John." His eyes were as cold and hard as the hematite rune stones. "It has not been easy for me, but my belief that you will see the truth is the only reason I have allowed another to possess you."

In hindsight, I guess I'd been around too many men that day telling me what I could and couldn't do. There is really no other explanation for what happened next.

"You know, this macho 'I will allow you' stuff is really starting to irritate me. I'm not a possession, Christian. I have a mind. I can make decisions on my own. And I've made it! Now, I like you. I'd like to count you as my friend. I've promised to help you find your Beloved" - I held up my hand to stop the objection I could see he was about to offer - "OK, your other Beloved. I know you don't think it's possible, but what's to stop there from being two women for you, huh? Me with my wires crossed, madly in love with Raphael instead of you, and some other poor woman out there who is your soul mate and doesn't know it. Regardless, as I was saying, I'd like to be your friend, but I swear to God, if you tell me ONE MORE TIME what your high-and-mighty self is allowing me to do, I'll belt you one right on the nose."

His eyes glinted dangerously at me for about three seconds before I was slammed up against his chest, his arms like iron around me. My mind was filled with his anger, his need to dominate and bend me to his will. I honestly don't know what might have happened if he had shown me the other side of his anguish, the desperate need for love and unbearable loneliness, but he didn't. Instead I was swamped with his belief that he had every right to take control of my life. "You... are... mine." His voice was like liquid metal, smooth and beautiful and hard with resolve. "You will always be mine."

He made his mistake then. He pushed me with his mind, actually tried to push me into admitting what he wanted to hear. The rebellious me screamed a war cry of defiance as I curled my fingers into a fist. His head leaned in to kiss me. I slammed my boot heel down on his foot, watching with satisfaction as he jerked back at the unexpected blow, his eyes opened wide with surprise. As I brought my foot up from his foot, I kneed him in the groin, then swung my fist forward and punched him in the nose as he doubled over in pain.

"Don't ever do that again," I yelled as he crumpled up. "My mind is my own! You are not allowed to force me to do ANYTHING!"

I stormed away from him, ignoring the stunned expressions on the faces of his staff as they watched their employer writhe on the ground, rubbing my knuckles and feeling extremely pleased with myself.

Until I remembered I wanted Christian to tackle reading Milos's mind for me.

"Well, hell," I snarled, shocking a white haired old man who had his arms full of tablecloths. "Sorry," I apologized, and did an about-face. I walked back to where Christian was being helped to his feet by the big burly guy. The guy looked like he might give me trouble until I made mean eyes at him; then he backed off enough so I could see Christian.

He wasn't clutching himself anymore, but he wasn't standing with his usual elegance, either.

"Are you going to strike me again?" he asked, his normally smooth voice a bit spiky around the edges. "If that is your intention, please allow me to send my staff out of the garden. I don't particularly wish to have them witness you repeatedly bringing me to my knees."

"I'm really sorry I hit you. And stomped on your foot. And kneed you. I hope everything is OK down there."

We both glanced at the abused spot in question. His hand twitched as if he wanted to double-check things, but instead he straightened up and waved the hovering hulk away. "I accept your apology. I will request, however, that in the future if you take issue with something I do, you alert me to your intentions to strike me. I did not find the experience one I wish to revisit."

I cocked a brow at him. Thanks to watching the master of eyebrow emoting, I was getting pretty good at it. "You mean that's the first time you've ever been punched?" I lowered my voice so no one else could hear me. I had no idea if his employees knew what he was or not, but I wasn't about to spill the beans if they didn't. "You're almost nine hundred years old, for heaven's sake. Are you telling me that in all that time, no one's ever socked you in the nose?"

His eyes were dark as they held mine. "It has been attempted once or twice."

The underlying menace in his voice was clearly a warning.

"You let me hit you," I pointed out, ignoring the warning. "I know the power you wield, Christian. You could have crushed me where I stood. At the very least you could have kept me from kneeing you or punching you in the nose, but you didn't. Why?"

"You are my Beloved," he said. "I cannot hurt you. If it is your desire to harm me, I must allow it."

"But I hurt you," I argued. "Doesn't this whole soulmate thing swing both ways? If I was truly your Beloved, wouldn't it be impossible for me to deliberately harm you?"

The corners of his lips turned up in a wry smile as he gingerly felt his nose. "I had always believed so."

I smiled and gently pushed his hand away to feel the bridge of his nose. "Nothing broken, just your pride damaged. And I'm sorry about that, although if it has made you rethink what I am to you, you won't have suffered in vain."

He gave me one of his martyred looks.

"I guess I'm really going to put our friendship to the test," I added, pulling out a tissue and dabbing at a tiny trickle of blood that seeped out of his nose. He stood perfectly still, but his eyes were dilated, black with strain. I backed off and put a little distance between us. "I wanted to ask a favor of you. If you haven't scratched me off your list of friends entirely, I'd like you to help me with a little problem concerning one of the fair people."

He considered me silently for a moment, then snapped out a few orders to his staff, and held out his arm for me. I took it and we strolled out of the temporary sanctuary of the garden, back into the noise and bustle and general madness that was the All Hallow's Eve festival.

"Why do you do this every year?" I asked, momentarily forgoing my request for his help. "It looks like it's a lot of trouble for you and your employees."

"Trouble?" He looked out at the sea of faces, people in all sorts of costumes, Goth and non-Goth, families, teenagers, adults, everyone eating and laughing and dancing, a mass of humanity whose shadows flickered and shimmered upon the white stone walls of Drahansk¨¢ Castle. "It is not trouble. I do it because for a very short time, I am allowed to believe I am one with humanity." His eyes turned back to me. "Just because I am who I am does not mean I shun the company of humans. On the contrary, I quite enjoy them."

My eyes opened a bit wide at that comment.

He smiled and leaned toward me to whisper, "And not always as dinner."

He laughed at the look on my face, guiding me through the crowds.

"Um," I said, trying not to wonder about who he might have fed on that night. "Is that why you write, too?"

He nodded.

"I assumed you were using the books to find your Beloved."

He laughed again. "The books brought you here to me, did they not?"

"Yes, but I'm not your Beloved."

His smile lost a bit of its wattage. "I write because it gives me pleasure to tell the tale of my people, and because I can imagine a life that has thus far eluded me."

Talk about laying a guilt trip! Uncomfortable, I changed the subject. "About you helping me - "

"I am at your service, naturally. I can do no less for you."

I stopped and turned to face him, oblivious to the fact that we were blocking traffic. "I might as well tell you right now that I'm only doing this to help Raphael. I want you to understand my ulterior motive. I don't want you to feel like you were being used," I said with particular emphasis on the last two words. "Or exploited. Or manipulated. Or - "

He held up his hand. "I take your point. What is it exactly you wish me to do to help St. John?"

I took a deep breath and counted to five. "I want you to get proof that Milos murdered Tanya."

His eyes drifted lazily over my face. "I find myself surprised that St. John is allowing you to assist him in tracking down the murderer. Despite the obvious differences between us, I find myself in lamentable accord with him in regard to issues of your safety. I am having difficulty believing he has solicited your help in finding proof of the murderer's identity."

"That's because I haven't."

I didn't turn around. I knew full well what the expression on Raphael's face was going to be. I did, however, look at his shadow, as I nervously shifted from foot to foot.

"Traitor," I told Henri.

"He's not the one who has gone against orders."

I turned around at that, my hands on my hips, my lips thinned with annoyance. "Who died and made you God?" I de-hipped one hand long enough to poke him in the chest. "I do not take orders from you. You do not have the right to give me orders. You do not have the right to dictate my actions. Got that?"

Raphael sighed and grabbed my still poking finger. "You're going to make me do this the hard way, aren't you? You're going to be stubborn and foolhardy, and make me take extreme measures to keep you safe, isn't that so?"

My blood was up now. I don't mind feeling cherished and wanted and protected, but Raphael - and Christian - were going overboard.

"What we have here is a rampant case of alpha male-itis," I announced, glaring at Raphael. He raised one sleek brow in a "Who? Me?" question. "Well, guess what? I've suddenly become an alpha female, and that means I don't have to take any crap from either of you. So you can just stand here and beat your chests at each other all night, because I'm going to go read some damn runes and then find Milos and get the truth out of him one way or another. Gentlemen, Elvis has left the building."

I tried to stalk off on that beautiful exit line, but Raphael ruined it all, blast him. He grabbed the scarf tied around my waist, twisting his hand into it so I couldn't escape. I slapped at his arm a few times, but when that did nothing, I started to pick at the knot holding the scarf closed.

"I assume that, personal history aside, I can count on your assistance in this matter?" Raphael asked Christian. I snarled at both him and the knot and bent over to try to pry the material apart with my teeth.

"Joy's safety is tantamount in my mind," Christian answered. "Given the circumstances, you have my full cooperation. There are one or two members of my staff I can put at your disposal if they are needed, and I myself will be available as soon as my duties as host are completed."

"I'm never, ever wearing this damned scarf again!"

"Thank you. I will appreciate your help," Raphael said with a polite little bow to Christian.

Roxy raced up, breathless and pink-cheeked. "There you are! Renee has been waiting for you! She has to use the little girl's room. Come on, come on, you can eat your scarf later." She grabbed my wrist and started tugging me in the direction of the tables.

"I am happy to be of service," Christian said, making Raphael an equally polite bow.

"I don't like either of you anymore," I told them.

Raphael just smiled and released his death grip on my scarf, taking me by one arm as Christian took the other. With Roxy clearing a path ahead of us like some deranged flower girl, I was frog-marched back to the rune table.

Renee happily hoisted herself to her feet when she saw me approaching, waving an expressive hand as she waddled off for the nearest portable toilet Raphael put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me into the chair. I bit his thumb.

"Stay here until I come to fetch you," he told me.

"I no longer recognize you in the Republic of Joy," I loftily informed him. "Our diplomatic ties are severed."

"Unsever them," he growled, "or the Country of Raphael will be forced to declare your republic a protectorate."

"Dictator," I muttered.

"For life," he agreed. "Stay here."

"You sound like something's going on," I said suspiciously. "You sound like you're doing exactly what you told me not to do. You wouldn't be planning an attempt to prove Milos is the murderer and clear your name with Bartos, would you? You are! You are planning on catching him! Well, you can just let me help, buster I'm supposed to be the one you turn to in time of trouble! We've done the sixth step, I demand that you turn to me for help!"

His gorgeous amber eyes lit with a fire from within. "You do an alpha female quite well. I expect our children will give us nightmares. Stay here."

With a squeeze to my shoulder and a look that left no doubt in my mind that he meant every word he said, he waved Christian ahead of him. The two stood talking together for a minute, then parted and headed off in opposite directions.

"That's so romantic," Roxy sighed, watching them. "Bitter enemies pursuing the same woman, their love for you bringing them together."

"Romantic my Aunt Fanny," I snapped, and would have said more but the woman waiting to have her runes read coughed politely. I apologized for the delay and gave her the "think of a question" spiel, using her moment of indecision to whisper to Roxy.

"I'll need you to help me a little later Obviously, the Bobbsey Twins are going to make a stink if I try to talk to Milos by myself, so you'll have to help me get away from them."

"Talk to him? Why do you want to talk to him? He's a killer! I have to say I'm with the guys on this, Joy. Let the police handle the situation. Let Raphael do it - if he's a spy, he'll know all about truth serums and stuff. Let Christian mind-meld with him, but there's no reason for you to talk to him by yourself."

"Raphael doesn't see the truth, he's too stubborn. He needs my help whether or not he realizes it. Besides I won't be by myself," I said, shaking the amethyst runes in the bag. "I'll have you."

There wasn't much she could say to that, not with me laying out the runes and telling the woman what they said, but she sure sent me a look that promised retribution at the earliest possible moment. I grinned back.

Sometimes silence truly is golden.