Page 69 of Close Quarter
Rhys let Silas go. "You're stronger now."
Silas laid his head back down on Rhys's shoulder. "Not enough. Even if I could touch Anaxandros, there are four others." He paused, then added, "And please don't tell me the Messengers sent me to save you."
Stubborn, foolish man. Rhys tasted the truth.
Why couldn't Silas? "Maybe they sentmehere to saveyou."
Silas raised his head and peered into Rhys's face, his expression a mixture of worry and wonder.
"That never occurred to you, did it?"
"No." Silas's fingers were warm against Rhys's cheek. "But that makes far more sense than the other way around."
Rhys couldn't help the snort. "For someone who's lived a goddamn long time, you really don't know yourself very well."
Silas stiffened. "For someone who has known me less than two days, you seem very sure of your knowledge of me."
"But I do know you." He kissed Silas, smoothing out some of the angry lines on his brow.
"Please stop fighting me."
Those lines folded into worry. "If I fail, it's not just my life. I'm not afraid to die. I've never been afraid. But if you--" His voice cracked, and he fell silent.
Rhys stroked Silas's hair. "Then use that clever mind of yours to figure out how to beat them." He kissed Silas again. "Because I don't want to die on this boat. And I want that thing's head."
Chapter Ten
Silas lurked under a set of stairs and against the bulkhead, his glamour wrapped close about him. He loosened the grip on his sword for the fourth time. An odd thing, to have apprehension nipping at his heels. He'd never been so anxious on a hunt, not even during his first. But the longer he and Rhys waited for the soulless, the more worry pooled in his mind and the harder he clenched his sword.
That wouldn't do at all in a fight.
Ten or so feet away, Rhys leaned against the deck railing outside the Piano Bar, his back to Silas. Long strands of elemental energy flowed about him, dancing in a wind of their own making.
The smooth curve of Rhys's ass peeked out from behind the tails of his tuxedo.
Rhys was, as he himself would have said, the perfect image of vampire bait. A living being full of energy and beauty.
Silas loosened his grip again. This was not the most clever plan he'd ever devised, but given all the factors, including Rhys's insistence that he hunt with Silas, it was the best he had.
There were some merits to using Rhys as bait, though. Proximity to Rhys hid Silas's elemental signature under that brilliance and chaos. Rhys was also far safer here under Silas's watch than alone in one of their cabins.
Not that he would ever admit that to Rhys-- the imp was smugger than a cat on a fishing boat.
No need to encourage him further.
One hitch marred their little trap. Three hours after sunset, not a single soulless had appeared.
Frustrating didn't even begin to describe the night.
As if sensing Silas's thoughts, Rhys sighed loud enough to be heard over the ocean and kicked at the metal band at the bottom of the railing.
"Maybe," he said, "I should go back in and dance some more."
Oh, Silas knew with whom Rhys wanted to dance. Heat settled in his stomach and made his face warm. "If you'd like." Even though his glamour swallowed the words to human ears, he kept his voice low.
Rhys peered over his shoulder. "Jealous?"
He did not deign to reply. Rhys snorted and went back to watching the sea.
