“Nor do I intend to.”
He studied her pale, exquisite features. “Such a perfect ice queen,” he murmured, his gaze lowering to the lush fullness of her lips. Those weren’t the lips of an ice princess. They spoke to him of hot Spanish nights and decadent pleasure. “Did the Oracles send you?”
It was only because he was touching her that he felt her stiffen at his question.
“Only a fool discusses Commission business.”
No shit. Unfortunately, Styx had tossed him straight into the lion’s den. He needed to know why the Oracles were interested in Gaius. And what they were trying to hide from the vampires.
“You’re here looking for Gaius, aren’t you?”
“Why would I?” Frost coated her words. “I was told that Gaius died during the battle against the Dark Lord.”
His short laugh held an edge of bitterness. “Yeah, a lot of us were told that.”
Just for a second he thought he could glimpse something flash through her dark eyes. Sympathy? He shook his head. Not freaking likely.
The female was in pure ice mode.
“And since you’re here to claim your inheritance, it would be a wasted effort to search for him.”
“Half truths and evasion, Nefri?” He leaned forward, drawing deeply of her jasmine scent. “That isn’t your usual style.”
“You know nothing about me.”
A smile curved his lips as he felt her faint tremor. Not fear. Nefri was a woman who was beyond fear of anything. Or anyone.
No, it wasn’t fear. But need.
“I know more than you ever wanted me to,” his voice lowered, his fingers stroking up the back of her arm to her shoulder. “Which is why you bolted behind the safety of your Veil.”
Her extravagantly long lashes lowered to hide her eyes, but it was too late.
They both knew she was vulnerable to his touch, even if she would rather have her tongue cut out than to admit the truth.
“I have to go,” she jerked from his grasp, her steps measured as she headed toward the door.
Santiago let her take several steps, keeping his hands at his side. He had an ace up his sleeve.
“He was here, but he left,” he said softly. “One, maybe two nights ago.”
Nefri froze, her back held ramrod straight, before she slowly forced herself to turn and meet his mocking gaze.
“Gaius?”
“Who else?”
The dark eyes narrowed and Santiago knew she was weighing her desire to keep walking against her mysterious duty to the Oracles.
In the end there really was no choice.
For either of them.
“How do you know?” She at last forced the question past her stiff lips.
“He’s my sire.”
She studied him a long moment. “You couldn’t sense him before.”
“No,” he instantly agreed. Did she think he was lying? “There was something blocking our bond.”
“And now?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t kick in until I reached this lair, but now I can feel him, although it’s still muted.”
Her dark brows drew together. “Why?”
Santiago moved to stand directly before her, obsessed by the need to keep her close.
“Since I’m 100 percent certain you know a hell of a lot more about what’s going on,” he drawled, “why don’t you explain it to me?”
She took a deliberate step backward. “I have no information.”
Step forward. “Nefri.”
“What?”
“Can you sense him?”
Her slender fingers lifted to touch the medallion, her jaw tightening. “No.”
He reached out to capture her fingers, which still clutched the medallion like a lifeline, his knuckles resting against the soft curve of her breast. “Can you catch his scent?”
“No.”
“Then you need me.”
“Your lack of manners is only exceeded by your complete arrogance.”
A wicked smile curved his lips at her icy rebuttal. “Oh no, cara, the rules of the game have changed.”
She tensed. One predator sensing another. Not that she was going to concede defeat. Not without a fight. Good. Strong women were so damned sexy.
“What game?”
“The last time you called the shots, this time—” His words broke off as he caught the unmistakable scent of granite approaching the back steps.
No. Oh no. Fate couldn’t be that cruel.
But it seemed it was.
Even as he turned, the door leading to the bog of a backyard was being shoved open and a tiny gargoyle waddled into the kitchen.
“Did something die in here?” the creature muttered, his ridiculous wings twitching. “I smell”—he came to a halt, regarding Santiago with a sour smile—“vampire.”
“Santa madre.” Santiago turned back to glare at his beautiful companion. “Have you gone completely loco?”
Yes, Nefri silently answered the question.
In this moment she was fairly confident that she was at least skirting the edges of becoming loco. And had been since the moment she realized which vampire Styx had sent to spy on her.
What was it with this man? Granted, he was gorgeous. Breathtaking, mouthwatering, do-me-right-now gorgeous.
And powerful enough to challenge her despite the fact he wasn’t a clan chief.
And edible. Even when he was being stubborn and so aggravatingly arrogant she wanted to slug him in the nose, he made her think of running her hands over those hard muscles and tasting his warm Spanish blood.
But she’d met thousands of gorgeous, powerful, even sexy men over the past centuries and none of them had made her react like a . . . She swallowed a low growl. Why not admit it? She was reacting like a Harpy in heat.
And worse, he was all too aware of her vulnerability.
That knowledge only reinforced the need to get rid of him as soon as possible. As if ticking off the Oracles wasn’t reason enough.
At least her inner turmoil wasn’t visible as she met Santiago’s searing black gaze. “Excuse me?” she asked in the cool tones she knew set his fangs on edge.
He pointed a finger toward Levet. “Why are you traveling with that pest?”
She narrowed her gaze. “Please do not insult my companion.”
“Oui, do not insult her companion,” Levet muttered, moving to stand at her side with an offended sniff. “In case you missed the mammogram, I’m a hero.”
Santiago scowled. “Mammogram?”
“Memo,” Nefri corrected him. “Missed the memo.”