My eyes were squinting again when I looked up. Nina was bent over Trent's hand, probably commenting on the missing digits. Al, the demon I was hiding from, had taken them. He'd been well on his way to killing Trent at the time until Pierce had taken the blame for my being brain dead - which I hadn't been. My soul had just been trapped in a bottle until my aura could heal.
Cold, I tugged my coat closer as Trent jerked his hand back and said something terse. I left wreckage like a hurricane among those I knew. No wonder I didn't have very many friends. His pace fast and angry, Trent strode across the grass and to the nearby curb, clearly avoiding me. It was unusual that he wouldn't try to hide his anger, but what was the point if you were talking to a vampire older than the Constitution who could read your emotions on the wind?
"Trent!" I called out, hating the snubbed feeling creeping into me.
He tilted his head to acknowledge my presence without slowing, and my next words died at the look of what might be betrayal in the slant of his lips. "Next time, answer your phone," he said curtly from almost twenty yards away, his beautiful voice a study in contrasts. "I don't call unless it's important."
"I'm not on your payroll." Realizing how bitchy that had sounded, I took my hands out of my pockets. "I was in a meeting, sorry."
Frowning, he looked away, his back hunched slightly and his shoulders about his ears as he went to a small black sports car and slipped behind the wheel with notable grace. The door shut with a soft thump. If taste and sophistication had a sound, that was it, and I dropped back to the tree and watched him check behind, then drive away, the engine a low, soft thrum of gathering power, hesitating as he took a turn and was gone.
Nicely handled, Rachel, I thought sourly, glancing at my own little Cooper and seeing Wayde watching the entire incident. Nina was coming to me, her pace slow and provocative. I could tell the second that the dead vamp left her. Her heels began to click, changing from a confident, sedate pace to a fast cadence, her arms beginning to swing and her hips to sway. Her eyes, too, were no longer intense with sly dominance, but sparkled with the emotion of having been recognized by someone she respected. Her entire posture shifted from lionlike satiation to one brimming with tense excitement.
I didn't like that they had Trent out here. What had me most concerned, though, was that Trent was here on his own. Curious. Seeing my mistrust, she slowed her pace. "You got here fast," she said by way of greeting, her smile fading as she took in my unease.
I uncrossed my arms, trying not to broadcast my wariness. The DMV office had called her to say that I was on my way? Perhaps I wasn't supposed to know that they had Trent out here, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
"I made the lights," I said as she eased to a halt beside me, looking me up and down with a soft grimace, as if seeing me through her own eyes for the first time. Smiling, I extended my hand and the young woman took it, her expression questioning when I said, "Hi. I don't think we've really met."
"Um, it's not like that," she said, her voice a little faster, a little higher, and a lot more positive than just a few hours ago in the DMV office. "It's still me. It's always me, and then . . . him, too."
"Right." I put my hands back in my pockets. She was all bouncy and excited now, but I had a feeling that something was going to go wrong with this arrangement despite her obvious enthusiasm. There was a reason the undead didn't do this all the time, and it was probably going to leave Ms. DMV Worker in a padded cell when the undead master didn't need her anymore. "I'm supposed to wait for an escort," I said, and she gestured for me to accompany her.
"So, you working for the I.S. now?" I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice as I swung into step beside her, and she shook her head, a faint intake of breath telling me that she'd had an interesting ninety minutes while I'd been getting my temporary license.
"Not officially, no," she said, pulling herself straight. "I'm his temporary assistant."
Is that what they're calling blood whores these days? I thought, then quashed it. This wasn't her fault. She was the victim, even if she was willing. "So you won't mind telling me why Trent Kalamack was out here?" I asked, and she laughed.
"He wanted to meet him," she said, her tone somewhere between sly and derisive.
She was having way too much fun in this arrangement with the undead, and I made sure our feet hit the sidewalk at exactly the same time, adjusting my steps to be a little shorter since she was still in heels and I had on comfy boots. Recalling the almost betrayed look Trent had given me before driving off, I said, "That's why walkie-talkie man was out here, not why Trent was."
Nina's breath hissed in angrily. My pulse hammered, and I sidestepped from her before I even knew what was happening, finding my balance as she turned to me, her posture bent and aggressive. My hands were out of my pockets, but Nina was already relaxing, a sullen expression on her face as she refused to meet my eyes. "Walkie-talkie man?" she said, her tone sharp with accusation. "It's a good thing he likes that, or I'd have to teach you otherwise."
We started walking again, a good three feet between us now - and it was her pace that adjusted to my longer step. "I'd like to see you try," I muttered, and Nina jumped as if having been rebuked. It seemed as if her master vampire was listening in and didn't like her attitude. That was nice, in a creepy, somewhat uneasy way. Still, prudence had me exhaling slowly, trying to relax before Nina tried to jump my jugular. The woman was getting a huge unexpected eddy of sensory input thanks to the vampire possessing her, input that she hadn't had time to learn how to deal with. If walkie-talkie man wasn't there to pull in the reins, there might be accidents. Sure, it was nice now, but eventually there would be running and screaming and blood on the floor.
"I thought the crime scene was at a cemetery," I said cautiously.
Nina nodded as she looking intently into the park, toward the unseen crackle of radios. "It used to be one," she said, her voice distant, as if she was listening to the dead vamp in her head, "until they moved the bodies."
I'd never understood that, but I suppose it was better than having cemeteries taking up prime property when a small town grew into a larger metropolis. "Did they miss any?" I said as I paced beside her, her heels now clacking in harsh discord with my boots. Nina was still looking into the park as if trying to place herself, though I'd be surprised if she'd ever been here before. I was starting to feel like something was creeping up on me, and my shoulders itched.