Page 31 of The Vampire's Werewolf Bodyguard
“I didn’t see her,” Simon says. “Did you?”
“Briefly, but she was wearing a mask.” Cody frowns, struggling to recall details. Eyewitness recollection is tricky—at least when it comes to the eyes. “Definitely human. Her scent wasn’t clear.”
“Another human.” Simon rolls the window down a bit more, and air whips in from the chilly highway. “They used to be easier to deal with.”
Cody almost offers to turn up the AC. Then he remembers Simon is a vampire. He isn’t susceptible to temperature; he’s trying to clear the scent of Cody’s blood from the car.
“How did she know we would be there?” Cody asks. “That wasn’t an accident.”
Simon folds his arms around himself again. “I don’t know.”
“Could Kimiko have set it up?” Cody presses. “Or someone else at the club?”
“I don’t know,” Simon repeats, plaintive. It’s an odd sound from a centuries-old vampire. “Not Kimiko, but I can’t rule out anyone else. A motive would narrow it down, if I had one. This has to be personal, considering everything else. I just don’t know why.”
Cody’s grip creaks on the steering wheel. They’d had an understanding that Cody needs accurate information to do his job. Apparently not. He glares out at the flaring headlights. “You specifically told me this wasn’t personal. Were you going to tell me about ‘everything else’ at some point?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Passing lights flit along Simon’s bare arm and catch in his hair. “But plans can change.”
“They’d fucking better,” Cody growls. “I told you the day we met—I won’t ask much of you. I just need you to help me do my job. I need you to be honest with me.”
“I don’t trust you,” Simon says, matter-of-fact and tired.
The ensuing silence is deafening. Cody is tense and uncontrolled again, but it’s not his wolf this time. Just his own emotions bristling below the surface. A deep breath fights down his anger. His unreasonable hurt.
He must sound ridiculous demanding Simon’s compliance. Cody’s a twenty-eight-year-old idiot acting like he knows everything. Yeah, he knows his job, but his job is guarding vacationing business moguls and minor celebrities. Not protecting gorgeous, ancient vampire twinks from assassins.
“It’s not about you,” Simon says suddenly. “I don’t trust anyone.”
The abrupt softening of tone is dizzying. Simon seems as erratic and vulnerable as Cody feels tonight, their emotionsfeeding off each other. Maybe Cody is emanating more violent energy than usual, or Simon is more sensitive than the humans Cody usually hangs out with. All the more reason to stay in control.
“I’m sorry,” Cody says. “I shouldn’t expect you to.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong. As much as I like to nitpick.”
“Nothing wrong? Not even ruining your library wall?”
“I like your painting,” Simon says, which is a terrible sign. He must be woozy with bloodlust.
Or he’s trying to distract Cody.
“Why do you think this is personal?” Cody asks.
Simon rolls the window an inch up. Then an inch down. “Two things. The first could be a coincidence. Did you ever hear about the treaty crisis twenty years ago?”
That would be like yesterday for a vampire, but Cody struggles to reach vague childhood memories. “Was that the vampire who got murdered?”
Simon fidgets with the window again. “That was my fledge-sister Tania.”
It’s all Cody can do to keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel. He wants to hold Simon close—if he would allow it—and offer any comfort he can. But that isn’t what Simon’s looking for. There’s a reason Simon is revealing this.
“What happened?” Cody asks.
“I don’t know.” Simon sounds worse than sad—he sounds resigned. “We hadn’t been close in years. A human killed her. The council never caught them.”
The details are coming back now, such as they are. Cody’s pack leaders recounted the aftermath more thanthe murder itself. A group of bloodthirsty vampires using a flimsy excuse to try overthrowing the treaty.
“Do you think this is related?” Cody asks. He should be angry that Simon kept this from him, but he’s just relieved Simon is saying it now. There are clearly reasons for the vampire’s reclusiveness.
