"I was out of line," Dante said, looking at her as if they were the only people in the room. "I didn't mean to upset you last night, Tess."
She waved off his concern, wishing she could forget the whole thing. "It was nothing. I wasn't upset, really. You didn't do anything wrong. I should be the one apologizing to you for running off like I did."
Nora's gaze bounced between the two of them, as if the tension Tess felt from being near Dante was palpable to the other woman as well. "Maybe you two would like to be alone--"
"No," Tess answered abruptly, at the same time that Dante calmly said, "Yes."
Nora hesitated for a second, then turned and gathered her coat and handbag from a hook behind her desk. "I'll just... um, see you in the morning, Tess."
"Yeah, all right. Good luck with your studying."
With her back to Dante, Nora looked at Tess and silently mouthed the words Oh, my God! as she started off for the back exit, where her car was parked. A few seconds later, the low rumble of an engine sounded, then faded away as Nora took off.
Until now, Tess had been so distracted by Dante's presence, she'd hardly noticed the condition of the dog. Now she couldn't help feeling a wash of pity for the animal. Its dull brown eyes were half closed, and a faint but audible respiratory wheeze sawed out of its lungs. On sight alone, Tess could tell that the dog was in need of care.
"Do you mind if I take a look at him?" she asked, glad to have something to focus on aside from Dante and the awareness that seemed to crackle between them. At his nod of agreement, Tess took a stethoscope out of her lab-coat pocket and hooked it around her neck. "When's the last time Harvard had veterinary care?"
Dante gave a vague shrug. "I'm not sure."
Tess gently took the dog from Dante's arms. "Come on. Let's have a closer look in one of the exam rooms."
Dante followed in watchful silence, coming to stand right beside her as Tess placed the trembling animal onto the stainless steel table. She put the scope under the dog's chest and listened to the rapid beat of his heart. There was a pretty significant murmur, and his respiration was definitely off, as she suspected. She felt carefully around his pronounced rib cage and made a note of the lack of elasticity in his flea-ridden fur. "Has Harvard been sleeping a lot lately? Lethargic?">There were eyes on him somewhere across the room. He searched the crowd for the intrusion... and found himself staring at one of the Order's warriors.
Tegan.
So much for holding himself to a higher standard than the Breed males who chose to live a life of violence and almost vigilante justice.
How much of Chase's degrading lack of control had Tegan seen? Probably all of it, although the vampire's expression betrayed nothing, just held him in a cold, flat, knowing gaze. The warrior stared for another moment, then simply turned and strolled out of the place.
A pair of bright yellow eyes with slivered pupils stared back at Dante from his flat-screen computer monitor. The beast's mouth was dropped open, lips curled back from a fairly impressive set of fangs. It was a look of hissing fury, but the caption beneath the photograph described the subject as a sweet and cuddly pa who would love to go home with you today.
"Jesus," Dante murmured, repulsed. He saw enough of that spitting, feral look every night he spent topside, hunting Rogues.
Hell, sometimes he saw the same hideousness reflected in his own mirror, when blood hunger, lust, or rage brought out his primal nature. Pain from his nightmare visions often did the trick too: slitting his pupils, turning his light brown eyes to fiery amber, and stretching his fangs out from his gums.
He'd had another one of those hellish dreams just today. It woke him out of a dead sleep around noon and left him sweating and shaky for several hours afterward. The damn things were getting more frequent lately, more intense. And the splintering headaches they left in their wake were real ass-kickers.
Dante nudged the wireless mouse next to his keyboard, scrolling past the Felines category to the Canines. He clicked the button to bring up the inventory of available animals, then did a quick scan through the photos. A few looked promising for his purposes, in particular a sad-faced hound named Barney who was in need of special care and dreaming of a nice place to spend the last of his golden years.
That ought to work. He certainly wasn't looking for anything long term.
Dante flipped open his cell phone and dialed the shelter's number. A gum-smacking young woman with a thick Boston accent picked up on about the fifth ring.
"Eastside Small Animal Rescue, can I help you?"
"I need one of your animals," Dante told her.
"Excuse me?"
"The dog from your website, the old one. I want it."
There was a beat of silence, then a loud crack of the girl's gum. "Oh! You mean Baah-ney?"
"Yes, that one."
"Well, I'm sorry, but he's been adopted. Is he still on our front page? They must have forgotten to update the website for him. What kind of dog are you looking for? We have several others who need good homes."
"I need an animal tonight."