Twenty-seven
Though they never
knew, Rachael woke up the instant Edward did. The only difference
was, she knew exactly where she was, how she’d gotten there, and
why she was naked.
“Bluff sex,” she
mused aloud, and shook her head. And laughed at the sheer silliness
of it. The man was good for a laugh, if nothing else. And he was
good for plenty else; nothing never
entered into it.
Her good humor lasted
until she picked up her cell and saw a cryptic text from one of two
people who had her texting info: “There’s been another
one.”
Cain, with an update.
Definitely not Edward.
“Shit,” she said, her
good mood vanishing. She’d decided against her chat with the
vampire queen, and there was a fresh corpse to rebuke her laziness.
Whoever you are, I’m so sorry. If it’s any
consolation, I won’t allow it to happen to anyone else. This I so
swear.
Yeah, sure. If it’d
been her ghost being appealed to, she
wouldn’t have been impressed or appeased, either.
Time to see the
queen. Right now. Bluff sex would wait. Edward would wait. The
lemon icebox pie she knew Call Me Jim was baking upstairs would
wait.
She dressed in a blur
of motion and ran out to her car in her bare feet. She was so keyed
up she never would have noticed, but the vampire queen sure
did.