Free Night Huntress 06 - Eternal Kiss of Darkness by Jeaniene Frost

reminder of how blazingly fast he was.
     
    “I should put a bell on you,” Kira said before she could think.
     
    Instead of being annoyed or confused, Mencheres tilted his head. “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”
     
    So perfectly formal. So rigidly in control of the situation at all times—except for that morning at the warehouse. Which was the real Mencheres? Do you really want to know? an inner voice questioned.
     
    No, she probably didn’t. Especially not in these circumstances, when she was his pampered prisoner.
     
    “I wanted to call my sister again.” A part of her hated to ask permission to do such a simple thing, but the other part reminded her that if Mencheres were a more ruthless person, she wouldn’t even be alive. Dead investigators tell no tales of vampires, Kira thought wryly.
     
    “Certainly,” Mencheres said, as if there was never any chance that he would refuse.
     
    Kira released the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. What a strange scenario this was, being a captive who was treated like a guest—most of the time. Radje’s hawkish features flashed in Kira’s mind. She hadn’t been treated like a guest in front of him. In fact, she’d felt like more of an insect under Radje’s cold, pitiless gaze.
     
    “Will you be expecting that vampire to return anytime soon?” Kira asked, phrasing her words carefully.
     
    Mencheres arched a brow. “I assume you’re not speaking of Gorgon?”
     
    “No, I’m talking about the one with the dark straight hair who looks a little like you.”
     
    “Radje,” Mencheres murmured. “No, I do not expect him to return here in the near future.”
     
    “Good,” Kira muttered. “He gives me the creeps.”
     
    A tiny smile touched his mouth. “Yet more proof that your youth doesn’t preclude you from being wise.”
     
    Kira felt an answering tug of her lips. “I’m thirty-one. In my species, once a female is over thirty, she’s considered to be well on her way to middle age.”
     
    Mencheres laughed, startling Kira, and the sound rolled along her spine in a shivery caress. It was the first time she’d seen him laugh, and his relaxed expression combined with his wide smile changed his features from striking into stunning. God, you’re gorgeous, she thought, glad the vampire couldn’t hear that in her mind—or know how hard it was for her not to stare.
     
    “Such foolish human notions that women are only beautiful in the first flush of youth. My wife was thirty-five in human years when we married, and she was ravishing…”
     
    Just as abruptly, his laughter vanished, that familiar look of impassivity settled over his face.
     
    Kira reached out to touch Mencheres’s arm. “Radje said that your wife was dead. I’m sorry.”
     
    A strange, sad smile flickered on Mencheres’s mouth. “As am I, but not for the reasons you think.”
     
    A dozen questions instantly sprang to Kira’s mind at that mysterious comment, but Mencheres changed the subject in the next moment.
     
    “Come, place your call now. The library should be the most comfortable for you.”
     
    You don’t like that topic at all, do you? Kira thought, her investigative instincts still urging her to find out more about the obviously unusual circumstances surrounding Mencheres’s late wife. But Kira tamped them down. She wasn’t on a case here; she was a captive, albeit a well-treated one. If she asked Mencheres about his wife, and he became defensive, he might not let her call her sister. Tina ranked higher than Kira’s curiosity.
     
    “The library sounds good to me,” was all Kira said, and let him lead the way.
     
    M encheres waited in an adjoining room as Kira made her call. He’d let her have the illusion of privacy by leaving her alone in the library, but both of them knew he was listening.
     
    He marveled at how Kira’s voice changed when she spoke to her sister. It became softer, gentler, with an undertone of protectiveness.