Page 42 of Wake the Dream

“You know what we need to do next,” he told her slowly.

“Please don’t tell me I need to make a blanket apology to your friend for punching him. He said something nasty about me. If anything, he is the one who should apologize.”

Kieran waved her comment away like smoke. “No, no apologies to Pembroke. Who is most decidedlynotmy friend. We need to find that vampire and get him to tell us what happened to Yelena. By any means necessary.”

He recognized Illaria’s wicked smile even in the dark.

“Any means?”

He found himself nodding to her. “Free rein.”

**

Kieran was preparedto drop Illaria off at her house but found the place too big for his liking. The empty windows stared at him like soulless eyes in a long-dead face. He couldn’t get over the feeling of being watched. Of creatures out there in the darkness staring, noting their movements.

Nope. It wouldn’t do at all.

Illaria had her palm on the car door handle and her seatbelt unbuckled when Kieran peeled out of her driveway with a screech of tires.

“Hey, man, what the hell?” she yelled at him, limbs flying in an attempt to steady herself. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone in that big house. You’re coming home with me.”

She flopped back in her seat as though too exhausted to argue. “Of all the lousy pickup lines...”

“It’s not a pickup line. It’s my senses. They’re tingling. We have a few hours until dawn and if that vampire really does recognize your scent, he’ll never forget it, and he could follow it to find you.”

“What would he want with me?”

“We don’t know, which is why we need to be cautious. He could know what happened to your sister and want the same for you. You’re on his radar. I’m not taking any chances.”

“Big macho caveman detective beating his fists against his chest?” She reached over to tweak his nipples again, surprised when he caught her hand.

“Don’t do that,” he admonished. “Look, I know you’re not happy with this. And I didn’t give you a chance to pack a bag, but trust me. This is for the best.”

“And you’re sure it’s not a pickup line?” she clarified. “You were awfully upset when I kissed that guy in the street today.”

His brows drew together, mouth forming a thin line as he struggled to push down the snarling jealousy snapping at him to claim her. Hell no, he didn’t want to claim her. They didn’t even like each other. It was the dregs of adrenaline talking.

“It has nothing to do with that.”

He could have sworn she grinned again, catching a glimpse of it in the window reflection when she turned her head away. “Good. As long as we’re on the same page. And you feed me the second we get through the door.”

“It’s a deal. You spend the night with me and we wake up fresh and bright-eyed in the morning. Ready to bag a vampire.”

He lived beside the clock tower in an apartment complex regarded as occupied by humans in the know. Humans with those extra senses or abilities that allowed them to distinguish the monsters for what they really were. A handful of those not bothered by the supernatural and who had made Hedgehill Marsh their permanent residence had rented apartments next to the noisy clock tower. Some helpful mage fixed it so that the rocking booms didn’t shatter their eardrums from the proximity.

Kieran had learned to appreciate the consistency of those chimes. Always on time, never lagging.

He pulled into a parking space marked with his apartment number and turned the key in the ignition, killing the engine. “Stay here and let me check things out before you come inside.”

Illaria stared after him with impossibly large eyes. “Are you going to clean up your dirty underwear or check for bad guys in your own home?”

“A little bit of both. Wait here.”

Jogging up the stairs, he fished his key out of his rear pocket and slowly unlocked the door. He made the act a nightly ritual, scanning the premises with his gift to see if anything stood out as extraordinary. Nothing had, yet, but he always used the ritual as extra practice. A way to hone and fine-tune his skill and potentially make him a better detective. With the space checked, and the last of his fast food wrappers and dirty laundry pushed into the least-full closet, he returned to the car to motion the all clear.

He walked a couple of steps behind Illaria in case she tottered off those skyscrapers she called shoes. “How long have you lived here?” she asked him.

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