Finn sighed. "Sorry, darling. Duty calls. We'll be at the club tonight. Perhaps we can meet later in the week after some of my present . . . difficulties resolve themselves. "
"Of course. Call me when you get free. "
And so business was concluded. I got to my feet. Donovan Caine rose as well. Finn sighed again, then did the same.
"Come on, Finn. I'm sure Roslyn wants to go see how Catherine's doing. " I smiled at the vampire again. "Give our best to Lisa. "
Her dark eyes met mine. "I will," she murmured. "I will. "
Chapter Nineteen
Roslyn showed us out, then went back inside to put Catherine down for a nap. As soon as the vampire locked the door behind us, Donovan Caine turned to me.
"What the hell was that about? Threatening her niece like that?" His eyes blazed gold with anger. "The little girl was sitting right there. "
"And was far too involved in her own imaginary world to pay attention to us," I replied. "It wasn't a threat. I was merely reminding Roslyn how Finn had taken care of something for her and that she owed him. It was business, nothing else, and Roslyn knew it. That's why she agreed to let us spy on Carlyle. Now she knows we're even again. "
Caine kept his hard gaze on my face. "And if she hadn't agreed? What would you have done? Pulled one of your knives on the little girl?"
"Oh boy," Finn muttered and stepped back.
I tilted my head and approached the detective until I stood right in front of him.
Donovan Caine didn't move away. More balls than common sense.
"I might be an assassin, detective, but I'm not a monster. I don't kill kids-ever. But if you ever dare to insult me like that again, I'll be more than happy to slit your throat. " I palmed one of my knives, flashed it at him, brought it up to his throat, and tucked it back up my sleeve in one smooth, quick motion.
His face hardened with fury. "Just like you did Cliff Ingles?"
"Just like I did Cliff Ingles," I snapped. "But I'll give you the courtesy of leaving your balls attached to the rest of your body. "
We stood there glaring at each other. Part of me wanted to punch Donovan Caine, smash my fist into his nose, and feel his hot blood spurt out onto my fingers. Another part of me wanted to pull him toward me, plant my lips on his, and melt the gold anger in his eyes into liquid passion.
Finn cleared his throat. "If you two are done with your little spat, we should go.
Things to do and all that. " Donovan Caine glared at me a moment longer, then stalked over to the car, got in the back, and slammed the door shut. Finn and I followed him.
"By the way, good call on the castle, Gin," Finn said as he reached for the wires to start the car. "You were right. Much better than the stuffed dog I wanted to buy. "
"You picked that out?" Caine asked. "That pink, plastic toy?"
I turned to look at him. "I happen to have been a little girl, once upon a time, detective. I know what they like. Every little girl wants to be a princess. " A thoughtful frown overcame the angry tension on Caine's rugged face. "And what happens when they grow up?"
I thought of my mother and sisters and all the horrors that had happened the day they'd died. A bitter laugh escaped from my tight lips. "Then they just want to be little girls again. "
Using all the usual precautions, we went back to my apartment. Finn headed to his computer to see if his contacts had found out anything more about Captain Wayne Stephenson. Donovan Caine sat on the sofa and turned on the television. The detective didn't speak to or look at me, and Finn was too engrossed in his e-mails to engage in substantial conversation. I took a nap, resting up for what was sure to be a long night.
Around seven, I got up, took a shower, and girded myself. Tight black jeans, leather jacket, boots, and a long- sleeved, black T-shirt with a pair of sequined cherries on the front. I grabbed my silverstone knives and even took the time to put on some makeup. My lipstick matched the scarlet color of the cherries.
I stepped into the den. Finn sat at his computer, sipping his fifteenth cup of chicory coffee of the day. He wore black pants with creases as sharp as my knives. A button-up shirt in a dark emerald covered his broad shoulders, while a black tie hung from his neck. Finn never dressed down.
"That's a rather dark outfit. Are you trying to imitate our Goth friend?" Finn asked, referring to Sophia Deveraux.
I shrugged. "She does have a certain style. Besides, I imagine things will get rather messy before the end of the evening. Hence, the black. Where's the detective?" Finn jerked his head. "Just got out of the shower. "
Donovan Caine naked, water droplets sliding down his lean body, his muscles clenching and relaxing as he washes himself. Mmm. Nice image. Despite our earlier confrontation, I still found the detective extremely sexy. He'd be even more attractive if he'd lose the righteous anger and the stick up his ass. But no man was perfect.
I strolled into the kitchen, grabbed a blackberry yogurt from the fridge, and dug a spoon into the creamy concoction. I was halfway done when the bathroom door opened, and Donovan Caine stepped into the den. He also wore a T-shirt and jeans, although his were baggy and frayed around the seams. A battered, brown leather jacket, not unlike my own, hung off his shoulders.