"I can't say, sir."
His thin lips curved into what I presumed was a half-smile - though it very easily could have been a half-sneer. "Respectful to those of obviously greater power. I like that."
Right now, I liked that he liked. Anything was better than him mulling over the fact that he knew me. Because if he knew me, I obviously knew him. And for safety's sake, I had better find out how before he did.
I didn't say anything, and he continued to study me. My stomach turned faster than a washing machine on spin cycle, and was threatening to rise at the slightest provocation. Which was weird, because I'd always figured when I finally confronted the man who had chased me, abused me, injected me with crap, and tried to kill me, I'd feel anger - rage - more than anything else.
But I guess in imagining the whole scene, I'd forgotten one important point - Starr himself. Or rather, the fact that it had taken power, cunning, and sheer, bloody ruthlessness to take and hold control of the cartel.
"Are you from the red pack?"
Oh God... he did suspect. But how? Who was the man behind the mask, who was he in my life?
I forced a casual shrug. "I don't know. My mother was human, and never sure who my father was."
"You have the coloring of the red pack."
"She was Irish. I have her coloring."
"Ah. The offspring of a groupie."
I nodded. Wondered if he believed me. There was no expression on his face, no flicker in his eyes, to indicate whether he did or didn't. Just the emotive swirl of evil sucking the very goodness from the air.
"We should talk some more," he said eventually.
My heart just about stopped. I might want to kill him but I certainly didn't want to talk to him. Not now. Not later. Not anytime.
Even killing him wasn't an option right now, not only because of Merle and the black thing, but because Jack would kill me if I did anything before we'd discovered the location of the final lab.
"Talking is fine with me."
He smiled for real this time. It was the nastiest thing I've ever seen. "As if you even had the choice, my dear." His gaze moved to Merle. "Bring her in for brunch."
His words sent another shiver down my spine. I had a bad feeling Starr's idea of "brunch" was not toast and orange juice, but something a whole lot darker. Bloodier.
Merle nodded, and hitched his pants. "Is that all for now?"
Starr snorted and glanced back at me. "My assistant hungers. Prepare for a rough ride, my dear."
I arched an eyebrow. "And Mr. Moss?"
"Will undoubtedly be annoyed at missing the action." He glanced at Merle again. "Do not forget the whore bus."
He nodded. As Starr left, that switch went on again, drowning me in heat and desire. Merle held out a hand, and I went to him, my legs so wobbly it felt like they were about to give way at any moment.
His large hand wrapped around mine, his fingers rough and burning hot. I shivered, and knew in that instant what Rhoan had been trying to tell me. It wasn't the sex that was the worry, it was this - the feeling that evil was about to invade, and somehow corrupt.
All I could do now was remind myself it was better this man than Moss.
Merle glanced over my head, and though he didn't say anything, the soft sound of footsteps indicated the spirit lizard was leaving.
His gaze came back to mine. In the tawny depths of his eyes, lust and insanity seemed to rage. Or maybe that was just my imagination - a natural result of the force of his aura combined with the base sense of his foulness that filled every quick intake of breath.
"We shall fuck here first." Merle tugged me around the sofa. "The scent of sex will inform Moss of what he has missed."
"That doesn't sound very friendly to me." The words came out breathless, sounding anticipatory when the opposite was true. The force of his aura might be such that my skin burned and I ached for sex, but part of me recoiled at the thought of spending any time with this man.
It was weird.