Leaned against the opposite counter, she crossed one arm over her chest and held her coffee in the other. Not helpful. Snug against her skin, the white cotton brought everything out in brilliant color. Sure, vampires didn’t have x-ray vision, but the detail was spectacular.
Adair eyed him over the steaming rim of her coffee. “And what if by searching, you walk right into another trap?”
“Sometimes setting off the trap is the only way to disable it.”
“Sounds like a stupid hungry mouse.”
“True. But effective.”
“You have, at minimum, another two or three centuries of hunting ahead of you. With the vampire in you, it may be forever. Why would you risk losing that?”
“In two hundred years, I may gloriously meet my end at the hands of the fabled Ushi-Oni, or I may get crushed under a building in a freak accident tomorrow. That’s life. The risk? It’s what I signed on for.”
“That’s what you were fated to endure from birth.”
“No, I had a choice. You didn’t. But you do now. You don’t have to come with me. You’ll be safe here. Calloway will hunt you down, so please, stay close until it’s done, so I can protect you.”
“I don’t need you to protect me. I’ve been fine without you for a damn long time.”
“I didn’t say you needed me. But please. Let me do what I do.”
Adair gulped her coffee before quietly rinsing the mug and set it in the sink. “I’m going to run some errands. Back in a few hours.” Expression unreadable, she disappeared down the hall while he stood like the fool he was.
What errands?
Rubbing his hands over his eyes, Bennett held his breath. No wonder she didn’t want forever with him. Overbearing jackass.
Wasn’t that what Quinn had been trying to tell him? Yeah, they’d officially been over when they’d faced Typha the first time, but he hadn’t believed it. Then when Quinn had walked in that night, missing for months… She appeared in the middle of the tavern, hollering some crude comment to a bunch of sailors, with this badass guy all over her, loving her snarky humor. So it turned out to be Ryan, her fricking soulmate. And in that moment, Bennett realized exactly why they hadn’t worked.
Downing the last of his drink, he stalked down the hall and into his room. He took way too long of a shower, letting the steaming water pool in the hollow above his shoulders as he rested his hands against the tile. He tugged on a black shirt and jeans, adding black sneakers that might stand a chance at holding up if he had to run full-out.
He crashed on the couch and pulled out his phone. Always depressing, but remarkably helpful, he searched for recent deaths suspicious for vampire kills, maybe see a pattern that could be Calloway on his tail. Huh. Not much vampire activity, but definitely a feral werewolf; he’d fire off a message to a friend that lived nearby.
Nothing else out of the ordinary. He poured another cup of coffee and fired up his laptop. Damn, Paris was old. And had been destroyed and rebuilt enough that finding the entrance would be impossible. Did Calloway know where to start? Bennett opened a map program he’d found remarkably handy on more than one occasion, and lined up map over map, trying to find a pattern, something deep that hadn’t been disturbed.
Fuck, he wasn’t an archaeologist. This could take years of research. And Paris was a shot in the dark anyway. Rubbing a hand over his face, he leaned back into the couch. He should call his dad.
Nope. Not yet. He’d have to be pretty fucking desperate to consider making that call.
Knee ticking a mile a minute, he looked up at the door again. Checked his phone for a message from Adair. Still nothing. They should have picked up a phone for her so she could call to check in now and again.
Cheeks puffed out, he tossed his phone on the couch and shook off the paranoia. As she’d put it, she was half a damn millennium. She knew how to take care of herself.
Key jingling in the lock, she finally turned the knob. Bennett hopped to his feet, then hesitated when he remembered he wasn’t worrying. Or at least, that she would be furious if she knew he was.
Fucking goddess, she strolled in on spiky heeled over-the-knee leather boots and a shimmery ice-blue dress that moved fluidly with each step she took. No bra, the girls settled comfortably as the draped neckline revealed the inner curve of each.
She set down her shopping bags and nodded back toward the door. “My purse is still at your place in Seattle, so I had to use your card. I’ll pay you back later.”
He swallowed his tongue.
With a smug shake of her head, she gestured toward the door. “Come on, we’re going out.”
Nodding stupidly, he grabbed the other set of keys from the dish as he followed her out the door.
The bass rattled the pavement, the hum of the waiting crowd teasing at the exclusivity of the club that embodied the heart of Pigalle. Adair added a swing in her hips as she led him to the front of the line, her fingers entwined with his. With her free hand, she stepped close to the bouncer and traced her fingertips along his jaw, then flashed him a fuck-me wink. With a lecherous smirk, he held the velvet gate open for them.
Despite the dim lights in the club, he could see the sweet freckles across her cheeks, her pink-lipped adoring smile. Damn, she embodied every damn fantasy in his sex-deprived imagination. Not giving a fuck that they were blocking the club entrance, he pulled her against him and dug his hands into her hair, claiming her in front of the throng of onlookers. Admittedly, hemayhave chosen the spot to stake his claim like a moody wolf.
