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“Don’t worry, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
I stood up slowly and went to the fridge for another glass of blood. I’d never been turned on enough to make my fangs grow before. It kind of freaked me out. I didn’t want to scare him, though I doubted Hugh would be so easily shaken.
I jumped when I felt his big warm hand on my shoulder.
“The fangs don’t bother me,” he said gently. “I’ve got my own, remember?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, I still sigh and do many other normal things that are no longer necessary. They make me feel alive and help me hold onto some shred of my humanity.
“Good.”
“How long did it take you go gain control, after you were turned?”
“Almost four years,” I said, putting a glass of blood in the microwave.
“You’ve only been really looking for the people who killed your mother for three years then?” As he spoke he brushed my long hair aside and caressed the back of my neck. I’ve always liked to be touched this way. The touch was not sexual, yet still intimate.
“Roughly.”
I turned to face him and brushed my fingertips over his chest, enjoying the feel of the fine hairs against my skin.
“Don’t beat yourself up too much. It took me three years to find the werewolf who killed my grandmother.”
“What did you do before? You said her death got you into being a paranormal P.I.”
I studied his face for a moment and tried to read the emotions I saw flickering behind his eyes.
“I was a cop. I’d only been at it for a few years.”
That surprised me a little. Most of the police officers I’d met were assholes. Most, not all. I know a few cops who are good and decent people. But they’re in the minority in this city. Hugh didn’t seem like the uptight power-hungry pricks I’d met at all.
“You didn’t trust the police to find her killer?” I asked.
“You know as well as I do, maybe better than I do, that cases involving paranormal minorities are not given priority. I mean, isn’t that how you stay in business? If this had been an ordinary woman killed by a werewolf, they would have called in the Hunters and taken care of business. But some of them knew my grandmother was a witch. They put her in the same category as vampires, werewolves, and any other creature of the night.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “Why didn’t you contact the Hunters personally?”
There are lots of people who hunt werewolves and “monsters” in general, if you’re looking to hire. But the Hunters have been doing this for centuries and are sanctioned by the government. To be blunt, they don’t fucking play. They’re sort of like the werewolf police, but no one has to call them. Laws regarding lycanthropes are still kind of sketchy. More often than not, werewolves are simply executed if they commit a crime. Don’t even get me started on other were-creatures. No one is sure if they fall under werewolf laws or what.
“Because if the police couldn’t find him, I wanted to handle it myself. They did actually try though, and they couldn’t find him. Even if they had, I didn’t trust them for justice. That is, what I considered justice.”
Considering that if the police had found the werewolf, he would have certainly been killed, this made me wonder. I wanted to know, but hesitated to ask what Hugh’s idea of justice was.
“I knew I would end up doing things that as an officer of the law, wouldn’t feel right. But as a man avenging the woman who raised me, it would feel pretty damn good. So, I put the badge aside and did what I needed to do.”
I nodded. “I respect that.”
“Really? I was afraid you might think I’m crazy.”
“Ruthlessness is a quality I’ve always admired.” I pressed a kiss against his chest and took a step back to get my warm blood from the microwave. “I’m not sure what to say about tonight, with us.”
“I don’t expect you to profess your undying love,” he joked.
“Don’t you mean undead love?”
His laughter was a deep masculine sound that I really enjoyed.
“As soon as the storm passes, I should go home and make some notes on your case. I hope you won’t be offended if I’m not here when you wake up.”
“Not at all, but you don’t have a car and the cab service around here is kind of bleh.”
He laughed again at my description. It was true though. I couldn’t think of a better word to describe creepy wizard wannabees who smelled like garlic all the time. By the way, garlic has no effect on vampires. But I’m not going to be the one to tell people.
“I can fly, remember?” Hugh said.
“Ah. That must be fun.”
Thunder rumbled again and a flash of lightning lit my kitchen bright as day.
“What should we do in the meantime?” I asked.
“Why don’t we light a few candles and see if I can make those fangs come out again?”