"Are you all right?"
Michael's voice rose out of the night, soft yet filled with concern. Wishful thinking , she thought. He was probably too busy tracking down Kinnard to worry about what she was doing right now.
"Are you all right?” he repeated, his voice, and his concern, nearer. Sharper. Suddenly he was beside her, his fingers pressing warmth into her cheeks as he held her face. “What's wrong?"
She opened her eyes. He knelt in front of her, eyes rich with worry. She touched his lips with her fingertips, trailing them down his chin and neck, and pressing them against his chest. His heart beat a rhythm that could only be described as erratic for a vampire.>"So this is not so much an offer of help, but a way of protecting me while you continue your own search."
"Precisely.” He turned and offered her an arm. “May I escort you free of this mill? The paths tend to be uneven."
"My sight is as good as yours, vampire.” She brushed past his offered arm and strode away, as if to prove her point.
He chuckled softly. He'd never met such a fiercely independent woman before, and while it was annoying, it was also extremely refreshing. Would she be this feisty in bed? Somehow, he suspected the answer would be yes.
He followed her, enjoying the sway in her walk, the flash of calf. She hitched her skirt up as she reached the longer grass, revealing lithe, well muscled legs. Not a woman who spent most of her time on her back, that was for sure.
He lengthened his stride to catch up with her. “So, what does the witch do when she is not hunting killers?"
"I do not spend my time whoring with drunk or sober louts.” She cast him a sideways glance. “What does the vampire do?"
"For the most part, try to stay out of trouble."
"Some things never change,” she muttered. “Vampires, no matter what the age, are a close-mouthed lot."
He raised an eyebrow. “You've associated with vampires previously?"
"Yeah.” She looked at him, and there was something in her eyes that strangely stirred him. “You might even say I love one."
"If the feelings are returned, then why are you here alone?" She ducked her gaze away from his. “Because my vampire went away."
"Ah. I'm sorry."
She shrugged. “It doesn't matter."
It mattered a lot, if the sense of hurt and frustration he was picking up from her was anything to go by. Though why he was picking such things up from her was something he didn't know. “Would it help if I say vampires rarely stay in relationships for long?"
Her gaze came back to his. Amusement touched the amber-lit green depths. “So I've been told.” She hesitated. “Have you had many long-term relationships?"
"Very few."
"How many is very few?"
He raised an eyebrow. “That is none of your business."
She smiled, and he couldn't help feeling her amusement came from a joke he should be able to share.
"You called me a whore, but I can count the number of men I've had on a couple of fingers. Can you say the same, vampire?"
He studied her for moment, wondering why this seemed so important to her. Wondering why the thought of her having had a couple of lovers tore at him so. “That depends on what you term a relationship."
"More than just sex. And more than a few nights."
"Ah, well.” He paused, thinking back through the long years of aloneness. “Maybe three." Her eyebrows raised. “Really?"
"Really.” His voice was a little sharper than he'd intended. “Watching someone you love grow old and die is never easy. Mostly, it's better not to love."
"Then why not make your lover a vampire?"
"Are you always this damn nosy, woman?"