Even Vampires Get the Blues by Katie MacAlister Page B

flower and doesn’t pay much attention to actually driving, so I really do appreciate you giving me a lift.”
    â€œYes, you thanked me.”
    â€œGood.” Silence fell between us—not a companionable, comfortable silence, but one that was fairly awkward and weighty. It itched along my skin like raw wool. “Finn was nice. Are you sure he won’t mind being left in Edinburgh? I hated to rush you into leaving, but I wanted to see the house before deep night was upon us.”
    â€œNo, he won’t mind.”
    â€œOK.” More silence. I surreptitiously picked at a fingernail for a moment, wondering why I could be silent with so many other people without feeling anything, but was bothered by Paen’s silence. I mused on that for a few minutes, then decided I’d put the question to the man who sat so close to me that his hand brushed my leg every time he shifted gears (something I was very well aware of). “Paen—”
    His shoulder twitched.
    â€œOh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you by using your first name. I realize that’s rather unprofessional of me, but it kind of slipped out.”
    â€œI don’t mind if you call me Paen,” he said, rather gruffly, I thought.
    â€œOh. Good. I’m Sam, by the way. Do you dislike talking to me?”
    That got me a startled glance. “Pardon?”
    â€œI wondered if you disliked talking to me. Especially since you were doing that whole non-verbal talking-into-my-head thing earlier.”
    Thank heavens for seat belts, that’s all I can say. The belt kept me from bashing my brains out on the windshield when Paen slammed the brakes on, sending the car into a little spin in the (thankfully empty) rain-slickened road.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked once the car came to a stop, flipping on the overhead light so he could peer anxiously at me.
    â€œI think so.” I sat back and rubbed a spot on my neck where the seat belt had burned it. “I’m just a little shaky. Nothing like pulling a one-eighty to get your adrenaline flowing, eh?”
    He didn’t answer, just opened the car door and got out to look at the front of the car. I sat for a minute, figuring he was just checking on the car, but when he started walking away from me, I got out.
    â€œIs the car OK?”
    â€œYes. I’m looking for the demon,” he said, peering into the night. “Damn. I wish I’d thought to bring a torch.”
    â€œDemon? What demon?” I hurried over to where he stood, the car’s rear lights our only illumination.
    â€œThe one that I almost hit when it jumped out in front of me. At least I assume it was a demon—it rose up from the ground, and there are few beings butdemons which will do that.” He frowned at me. “Do you have much experience with them?”
    â€œDemons? No, not a lot,” I answered, thinking about the one who had given me the bird statue. “All I really know about them is that they’re bad news, and they have a nasty-smelling smoke.”
    â€œExactly,” he said, lifting his head.
    I sniffed along with him, the faintest hint of a smoky stench reaching my nose. “That does smell like a demon. That or really bad fertilizer. But why would one jump out in front of us?”
    â€œA good question, but one I can’t answer right now,” he said, giving me a gentle push toward the car.
    I reentered the car, belting myself in, pulling down a small mirror to look at my neck.
    â€œYou’re hurt,” Paen said as he buckled up, leaning close to me in order to eye the spot on my neck that stung. That’s what my mind said, anyway. My body didn’t care why he was close; it just wanted him closer.
    â€œNot really. It’s just a little abrasion. All in a day’s work,” I quipped, suddenly overwhelmed by his nearness. His aftershave, a citrusy scent that mingled with something that was much