“And I don’t know a thing about you.Or where you like to hide your weapon of last resort.Which I assume you are still wearing.”Nix stepped closer.“May I?”
Lance lifted his arms.Palms open, the tattoo on his palm a dark reminder.
Nix ran his hands over Orlan’s shoulders and down his chest.No wires or weapons there.His palms skimmed over his stomach and the ridges of muscle just beneath Orlan’s shirt.His touch lingered a little as he worked his way lower over his belt—he’d come back to that—then he knelt as he ran his hands down Orlan’s leg.He glanced up to find he was being watched.Nothing on his ankles, but he traced his fingers up the inside of Orlan’s legs just to be sure.A faint smile formed on his lips, and Orlan looked away.It was hard to avoid what was right in front of his face.Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who’d been starved of contact.
He stood smoothly and ran his hands around Orlan’s waist; there at the small of his back was what he was looking for.Orlan’s heart hammered like a club track, but there’d be no grinding tonight.He lifted Orlan’s shirt and drew the blade free.
“Found it.”He didn’t step back.He could slice through both kidneys and slit his throat before Orlan had a chance to call for help.But they were close enough Nix knew neither of them was thinking about murder at that moment.
He was reasonably sure this wasn’t an elaborate ploy to get him to drop his guard but couldn’t be sure.Orlan was a rather pretty honey pot.
Nix forced himself to step back and put the blade with the others.“Got a first name?”
“Lance.”His voice was rough with lust.
“Well then, Lance, I accept your hospitality for the evening.”Formalities done and without a single drop of blood spilled.When was the last time an Orlan and a Hadley had been in the same room and no one had died?
“I’ll open the wine.”Lance strolled to the kitchen, turning his back and leaving Nix next to the weapons.
Reload the gun.Throw a knife.Pick up the wire.
A dozen ways to kill Lance before he got the wine open.But he wouldn’t break the rules of hospitality.He had more honor than an Orlan.
He frowned, not sure about Lance.
Nix followed him to the kitchen and watched as he opened the wine and got out glasses like this was a date.Maybe if their lives had been different, it could’ve been.He held that thought as though it were made of smoke and would be gone with the first breath of breeze.
Lance poured two glasses and handed one to Nix.“A toast?”
Nix took the offered glass.“To what?Another generation of blood spilled?A successful routing of the Hadley line?”
Lance considered him.“I’m not here to spill your blood.”
“Just to contain me until others can.Have you called me in?”He knew how these things worked.Had hunted someone before when they had betrayed the family.
“No.I need to bring you in.But tonight, I just want to talk.”
Nix considered him for a moment.There was still a chance he could wriggle free, but he needed time.“I want a truce.”
“For how long?”
Forever.Nix sipped his wine.He couldn’t say that.
Lance frowned.“You could run and disappear.”
“And you’d get the fun of following.”They could play this game for a while longer.But the idea of packing up and finding somewhere else to go made him tired.He’d rather surrender.He forced a smile.“I won’t run for the duration.”
Lance lifted an eyebrow.“Fine.Two weeks.Then I have to report that I’ve found you.Any longer and my family will be suspicious.”
Two weeks to make a plan.All he wanted was to be left alone to create the kind of life he’d never been allowed.“Very well.Shall I since you can’t?”
Lance’s frown became a scowl.
Nix had hit a sore point even though he hadn’t meant to.His fangs descended from the roof of his mouth in much the same way a venomous snake’s flicked forward to strike.He bit his thumb and let a couple of drops fall into each glass.Lance held his hand out, and Nix held it as he gently bit Lance’s thumb.His skin tasted nice; his blood still had that human sweetness that would be lacking when he was turned.He gave the bite a small suck before Lance tugged his hand back and added his blood to the wine.
They both lifted their glasses.
“To a truce for two weeks,” Lance said.“No blood to be shed in that time.”
