“No, we’ll drive.”
Venom slanted Honor an assessing look, but said nothing as he got into the helicopter and lifted off in a wild rush of air.
Leaving the abandoned Town Cars where they were, she and Dmitri got back into the rental. A couple of calls later, and Dmitri had organized a cleanup crew both for the cars and for the guards.
“What will happen to them?” she asked.
“Nothing to the two who didn’t lift a weapon against me as long as they prove to have had no knowledge of Jewel’s actions. The other one will suffer a punishment.” His eyes met hers for a second. “By disobeying me, he disobeyed Raphael. That can’t be permitted.”
The instant it was, Honor knew, many of the Made would break their bonds, surrender to bloodlust, begin to hunt living prey. “The three names she gave, do you know them?”
“Yes. They’re part of the same social circle as Jewel and the others.”
“She’s enough of a bitch that she might have snuck in a name that doesn’t belong, out of spite.”
“We’ll find out soon enough—I’ve sent instructions that they’re to be watched. They’ll be brought to the Tower for questioning tomorrow morning.”
Releasing a long breath, she said, “I just want to finish this.” Wanted to get on with the life she’d decided to live.
“You will.”
Sitting in the passenger seat with Dmitri tangling her in fur and chocolate and sin, luscious and irresistible, Honor watched the miles pass by, the motion soothing, lulling her into sleep . . . into dreams.
“You are my wife.”
“And you are a jealous man.” Shoving her hands into her hair she blew out a breath. “If anyone has cause to be jealous, it’s me.”
“You know I would never touch another woman.”
“And you think I would touch another man?”
Silence, his face harsh with shadows. “Other men covet you.”
Shaking her head, she reached out to lay her palm against his stubbled jaw. “I’m no great beauty.”
His fingers closed over her wrist, his other hand coming to lie at her waist. “You don’t see it, but I’m a man. I do.”
Sometimes she wondered what she was doing with him, this beautiful creature every woman in the village watched with admiring eyes. It was as if they knew how he moved when inside a woman, how he could play a woman’s body until she would do anything he desired. Except she knew they didn’t. For he had waited for her, though his body had to have demanded satisfaction, offers no doubt coming his way from women who did not honor their husbands.
“You are my heart,” she said, taking his hand and placing it over the beating organ. “It doesn’t matter if another man should give me a thousand promises, it’s to you that I belong.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
“Honor.”
Ignoring the masculine voice that tried to pull her into the waking world, she fought desperately to hold on to the dream—because the woman she was in that hazy place, she was loved, loved so deeply that it was a little terrifying.
“Honor.” A caress of orchids and gold, decadent, luxuriant, enticing.
She jerked upright in her seat to find that they were driving into the parking garage beneath her building. “I fell asleep.” In a car. With a man. With a vampire.
“You were smiling.”
“Just a dream.” One so vivid she could almost feel the stubble of her dream lover’s jaw on her palm. “Do you dream?”
Reaching across after parking the SUV, he stroked a finger over her cheek, where she could feel lines caused by sleep. “In sleep, I remember memories, times long past.”
She caught his hand against her cheek, had a disorienting sense of déjà vu. “Good memories?” she asked, the feeling shimmering out of existence as quickly as it had awakened.
Thick black lashes coming down, rising again. “There are times when even good memories aren’t welcome.” Remote words, but he didn’t break her hold.
Lights cut across the garage behind them an instant later, destroying the intimacy of the moment . . . and yet neither of them moved. “Come upstairs.” It wasn’t an invitation she would have even considered making a bare few weeks ago. But she’d been another woman then.
Dmitri rubbed his thumb across her chin before dropping his hand, but she didn’t need words to read the dark heat in his expression, his lips suddenly softer, erotically tempting. Pulse hammering in her throat, she got out of the car and led him to the elevators, aware of him twining fine tendrils of exotic scent around her. Not susceptible enough to be coerced by it, she allowed herself to luxuriate in the sensation.
He got a call just before they entered the apartment. She wasn’t able to figure out anything from listening to his half of the conversation, but he told her the details after he hung up. “Venom’s confirmed a watch on two of the names Jewel provided, is tracking the third.” Putting his cell phone on her coffee table, he said, “It might be better to keep an eye on them for the time being.”
Satisfying as it would’ve been to rush things, continued surveillance made sense. “I called Sara after we found out about the second hunt. All Guild personnel have been warned.” Honor had personally sent a message to Ashwini and been relieved to learn that her best friend was currently working a case with Demarco. Two hunters would be far, far harder to take.
Dmitri nodded. “I’ll make sure Venom keeps the Guild Director updated.” Sprawling on a sofa, he crooked a finger. “Come here.”
Kicking off her shoes and socks, she arched her back in a languorous stretch—both to loosen up tight muscles and to enjoy Dmitri’s eyes on her, hooded and dark and open in their appreciation. Stretch complete, she returned the favor. There was a delicious amount to admire. Black jeans, a plain belt with a tarnished buckle, a simple black tee—the stark shade threw the raw sensuality of his looks into even cleaner focus.
No woman, she thought, would kick him out of the house, much less the bed.
Padding across the carpet, she stood between his legs. “I’m going to freak out,” she said, and, yeah, it bruised her pride to admit that—but the only other option was to hide and Honor was through with being the rabbit Dmitri had called her.
He pointed at the shoulder holster and the knife sheaths.
“Off.”
She’d had a weapon on her every waking or sleeping moment since the attack—under her pillow, hidden down the side of the nightstand, on the back of the headboard. The idea of deliberately stripping herself of weapons with a vampire as powerful as Dmitri? It made her heart skitter against her ribs, her mouth turn dry as dust, her throat fill with grit.
“Want to keep a knife?” It was a low murmur of a question.
Honor gave the offer serious thought as she removed her gun and harness and stepped back to place them on the coffee table. The thigh sheath and the flashlight tucked into her back, along with a razor-fine blade worked into her belt, went next. She put the whole lot, belt included, beside the gun. Dmitri gave an intrigued look when she reached down her spine and removed a long knife from a hidden sheath, the blade as thin as the width of the nail on her pinkie. The single blade left was in the sheath she wore around her upper arm.