Not to mention the fact that it just would have pissed him off, and he was already in a seriously foul mood.
So, when the ring of the cell phone sent the dealer into a startled left-right-left spin as he tried to determine the source of the noise behind him, Lucan had sprung on him. He had taken the guy down fast, sinking his fangs into the vein in the human's neck, which bulged tautly in that instant before terror forced breath enough through the man's lungs for him to scream.
Blood gushed against his tongue, nasty with the taint of drugs and disease. Lucan choked it down, swallow after swallow, clutching at his convulsing, gasping prey without mercy. He would kill this one, and he wouldn't care less. All that mattered was feeding the hunger. Assuaging the pain of his mending body.
Lucan fed quickly, drinking his fill.
More than his fill.
He nearly drained the dealer, and still he was ravenous. But it would be pushing it to feed any more than he already had tonight. Better to give this nourishment a chance to take hold before he risked getting greedy, and taking a tailspin toward Bloodlust.
Lucan stared with scorn at the phone ringing in his hand, knowing he ought to just let the damned thing go unanswered.
It kept on, insistent, and in the second before it cut off, he picked up. He said nothing at first, just listened as the soft sound of Gabrielle's exhale blew across the receiver. Her breath shook a little, but her voice was strong, despite the fact that she was obviously pretty upset.
"You've been lying to me," she said by way of greeting. "How long, Lucan? About how much? Everything?"
Lucan took in the lifeless body of his prey with contempt. He crouched low, making a quick search of the greasy lowlife. He found a rubber-banded wad of cash, which he would leave for the street vultures to fight over. The dealer's party favors - a couple grand worth of crack and heroin - would take a bath down one of the city's sewer drains.
"Where are you?" he barked into the cell phone, thinking no more of the predator he'd eliminated. "Where's Gideon?"
"Aren't you even going to try to deny it? Why would you do something like this?"
"Put him on the phone, Gabrielle."
She ignored his demand. "There's another thing I'd like to know: how did you get into my apartment last night? I had all the locks set, including the chain. What did you do, pick them somehow? Did you steal my keys when I wasn't looking and have another set made?"
"We can talk about this later, once I know you're safe at the compound."
"What compound?" Her sharp gasp of laughter took him aback. "And you can cut the benevolent protector act. I know you're not a cop. All I want is a little honesty. Is that too much to ask, Lucan? God - is that even your real name? Is anything you've told me remotely close to the truth?"
Suddenly Lucan knew that this anger, this hurt, wasn't coming at him as a result of Gabrielle getting a crash course from Gideon on the Breed or her destined role within it. A role that wasn't going to include Lucan.
No, she didn't know any of that yet. This was something else. This wasn't fear of the facts. This was a fear of the unknown.
"Where are you, Gabrielle?"
"What do you care?"
"I do... care," he admitted, albeit reluctantly. "Damn it, I don't have the head for this right now. Look, I know you're not at your apartment, so where are you? Gabrielle, you need to tell me where you are."
"I'm at the police station. I came down here tonight to see you, and guess what? Nobody's ever heard of you."
"Ah, Christ. You asked for me there?"
"Of course I did. How could I have known you were playing me for a fool?" Again the brittle scoff. "I even brought you coffee and a sweet roll."
"Gabrielle, I will be there in a few minutes - less than that. Do not move. Stay where you are. Stay someplace public, somewhere inside. I'm coming for you."
"Forget it. Leave me alone."
Her sharp command drew him up short on the street. Just before his boots started hitting the pavement at a determined clip.
"I'm not sticking around to wait for you, Lucan. In fact, you know what? Just stay the hell away from me."
"Too late," he drawled into the phone.
He was already rounding the last corner before he would turn onto the street where the police station was located. He moved over the concrete and through the thin knots of milling pedestrians like a ghost. He felt the blood he'd ingested begin to merge with his cells, adhering to muscle and bone, strengthening him, until he was nothing but a cold draft on the back of the necks of those he passed.