Free Blood Debt by Tanya Huff

here.”
    Celluci’s “Why?” was a nearly inarticulate murmur as he rolled onto his side.
    â€œBecause I fought for the territory and lost, but Henry’s the one who left.” Drawing up her knees, she wrapped her arms around her lower legs and frowned out at the night. “I don’t want this territory, but I feel like I’ve won it. Except that I didn’t. Henry won. But I’m here. Is this making any sense?” She didn’t bother waiting for a reply. “It feels like there’s something missing, but I don’t know what. It feels wrong, but I don’t know what it needs to make it feel right. Oh, God.” She let her head drop onto her knees. “I’m writing country music again. I hate it when that happens.”
    His breath warm against the skin of her hip, Celluci muttered something that might have been sarcastic.
    â€œMike?” She reached out to shake him, paused, hand in the air, and changed her mind.
He needs to sleep. I’ll just get dressed and take a quick look at what Vancouver has to offer
.
    But she didn’t.
    Fingers lightly stroking his hair, she wrapped up in the familiar comfort of his life and let the night go by without her in it.
    â€œWe have another match.”
    â€œSo soon?” He frowned at the papers spread out over his desk, at the manicured symmetry of his fingernails, at the phone. He enjoyed working late, having the office to himself; usually, it meant he remained undisturbed. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
    â€œDangerous? In what way?”
    â€œIn that it might lead to discovery.”
    â€œI’ve told you before, the timing is totally random. I have no control over when the matches occur. Either it happens, or it does not.” The voice emerging from the tiny speaker managed to sound totally neutral about either option. “But if that new list you sent me is accurate . . .”
    â€œIt should be. I paid enough for it.”
    â€œ. . . then I have a young man on file who fits one of your prospects.”
    Drumming his fingers against the polished mahogany, he weighed the options. “And you think he’ll accept?”
    â€œWhen approached the right way, they always accept.”
    â€œYes, of course.” He cut her off before she could say any more. He didn’t want to know about the donors; they weren’t his concern. “Very well, make him the offer. When he accepts, let me know immediately so I can begin negotiations with the buyer.”
    By the time dawn made its presence felt, Henry’s car had been carefully locked away in the shed and all signs of his habitation had been erased from the exterior of the cabin. It was unlikely the day would bring company, but surviving for over four hundred and fifty years had taught caution first of all. Should anyone happen to wander down the narrow dirt track, the cabin would appear deserted. In Henry’s opinion, he had less to fear from vandals than from neighbors; vandals seldom wandered so far from the beaten path.
    With decks cantilevered out over the edge of a cliff, the cabin managed to be both isolated and directly above a food supply. While the friend who owned the property complained bitterly about how the Valley Breeze Family Resort had lowered property values in the area, Henry personally appreciated the view. Every pastel cabin nestled at the foot of the cliff held at least one meal.
    â€œAnd why shouldn’t I have a couple of weeks in the country?” he asked himself grimly as he locked the porch.
    Because you’re a vampire. Because this is not your territory. Because another vampire hunts in your territory. Because Michael Celluci might be right.
 . . .
    â€œAnd that . . .” Teeth snapped shut around the words. “. . . is exactly why I’m staying where I am.”
    It was a petty resolution—he’d long grown past the need to lie to