“Oh. Well, I—”

“Get your groceries, sweet pea. I’ll see you later on.”

Flustered by Gerry’s description of the dynamic between her and Jaden, Lyra managed only a soft and perfunctory laugh. Was that really what people saw? Maybe Jaden seemed deferential toward her out in public. She had no idea. Or maybe it was just too dark for people to see him making faces at her.

“See you later,” she murmured, wondering exactly what people did see on the rare occasion she and Jaden had been together among the pack. Was she missing something?

Gerry started away, and she thought she might actually need to pull her aching self out of the car, but he stopped short just a few feet away and turned back.

“Hey, I do have a favor to ask of you, if you’re up for it. And if you want an excuse to get away from your charge for an evening.”

“Sure,” she said quickly. Having an actual job lined up would be a lot better than admitting her muscles needed a night off. She was determined to keep up with Jaden. The worst thing it could do was kill her, and since death was already a strong possibility, she wasn’t terribly worried.

But man, she would love to do something that didn’t involve her trying to be Bruce Lee for the evening.

“Not that it’s going to be very taxing for you. But it requires a certain… flair for diplomacy, let’s say… that a lot of us are lacking, and—”

“You’ve got another werewolf nut you want me to get rid of.”

Gerry’s relieved smile was all the confirmation she needed. Lyra winced. This would be only marginally better than Jaden’s brand of torture. Silver Falls was isolated, and the pack generally disciplined, but the same sense of danger that humans got about the place, the thing that prevented any of them from moving in, also sometimes attracted a different element. These types usually came armed with books on supernatural phenomena and video cameras, and often enjoyed skulking around in the woods after dark in the misguided belief they might surprise someone doing something paranormal.

They were annoying. They were also worrisome. If even the smallest bit of actual evidence got out, many more of these hunters would come. Fortunately, all that had ever emerged from here was the occasional wild story. Still, it was trouble no one wanted.

Getting rid of the overly curious was also a job no one wanted. Unfortunately, Lyra had been roped into it before, and she had a knack for the task. There were two ways to go about it: sweet talk, or scaring the person so badly they ended up right on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

She excelled at both.

“I know someone recommended the Lost Dog Café to him. That’d be a good place to look… don’t see where else he can sit around giving everyone the stink eye.”

Lyra sighed. “What does he look like?”

Gerry chuckled. “Black leather fedora and a Supernatural T-shirt. Very inconspicuous.”

“Ha. Fabulous, another Indiana Jones of the Night. I’ll take care of it. But only because I love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea. I owe you one.”

“Mmm-hmm. I’ll add it onto your tab. You currently owe me into infinity anyway.”

Lyra watched Gerry saunter away, smiling despite herself. She supposed she was glad to have an excuse for a night off, even if it wasn’t really a night off. Her father could entertain Jaden. Or he could wander off to… wherever Jaden wandered to when he needed to feed. He didn’t say, and she didn’t ask. But the thought of him with his teeth in some pretty young thing, his hands on her, made her smile evaporate all too quickly.

Yeah, maybe her father could entertain him.

With a muttered epithet, Lyra opened the door and slid out of the car. She felt about as bad as she’d expected. An actual injury would have healed long before now, but this pain wouldn’t end without a full night to recover. And she’d be damned if she would let Jaden see her hobbling around like an old woman. Better to get the kinks out now.

Grimacing, and lamenting what now passed for a night off, she got to her feet, locked the car, and marched stiffly toward the Shopway.

Chapter THIRTEEN

JADEN PULLED HIS CORVETTE into the small parking lot behind the row of shops that contained the Lost Dog Café, muttering under his breath about difficult women and their indulgent fathers.

He’d awakened looking forward to another evening of Lyra’s undivided attention. He hated to admit it to himself, but that was one of his favorite things about instructing her. After all, there was much to like: she was an apt student, easy to teach and incredibly talented. Still, he mostly just liked having her to himself. For a vampire of his age and experience with women, that was sad.

Sadder still was how unhappy he’d found himself when Dorien, happily ensconced in the kitchen with a beer and a battered paperback, informed him that Lyra would be out for the evening on “pack business.”

“Pack business my ass,” Jaden grumbled, putting the car in park and killing the engine. A date, even a fake date with some idiotic werewolf hunter, was not business. Especially not when Dorien had gotten such a laugh over exactly how good Lyra was at running off unwanted visitors.

Actually, Jaden thought, remembering how charming she’d been on their first couple of meetings, he could see that.

He got out of the car, worried for a moment over whether anyone would decide to open a door into it, then locked it and headed around the building. There was a nip in the air tonight—the weather still couldn’t quite decide to commit to being consistently pleasant. In the past week, the town had seen cold rain, wind, and then seventy-degree temperatures. It seemed to be working its way back to the latter, but the night wasn’t without its bite.

His stomach rumbled at the thought, and he pushed it aside. Later. He would skip town for a bite later. Right now, he just wanted to see Lyra. And possibly throttle whoever this idiot human was, fake date or not.

He passed under a purposely shabby yellow sign featuring an abstract-looking dog. Jaden pushed open the door and walked into the café. He let his eyes sweep the room, absorbing the feel of the place. Velvet curtains framed the large windows looking out onto the sidewalk. The dimly lit interior was punctuated by the flickering lights of candles atop tall, spindly tables and the leather-upholstered booths that lined the walls. Pieces of art hung on the coffee-colored walls in bold colors, mostly Daliesque dreamscapes with the occasional martini bar painting thrown in. A husky male voice sang over a sax, the music piped through the speakers.

Though the café was the opposite of the quaint, salty, charming Inn, it managed to be warm instead of pretentious. Jaden thought he might like to come check it out sometime when he could actually enjoy it.

Right now, however, all his attention was focused on the woman who sat with her back to him, and the loser in the black fedora who had drool just about leaking out of his mouth.

Lyra was wearing some sort of sweater that draped down in the back, exposing enough smooth, creamy skin and strong shoulder that Jaden found his own mouth watering. Her hair was tied back at the nape of her neck, left to coil downward in a long tail. She seemed casual, relaxed from the way she held herself. And as he watched, she tossed her head back and laughed. The sound was a loud, throaty roll that had his fangs lengthening, hunger for her beginning to rush through his system like wildfire.

He could smell her. He could damn near taste her. And if the fedora didn’t stop looking at her like he wanted to take his own bite out of her, he was going to—

“Hell with this,” Jaden growled, slapped what he hoped was a pleasant expression on his face, and headed for the table.

Fedora guy spotted him almost instantly. Jaden had to stop himself from smiling over the immediate wariness that came over the man’s expression, inordinately pleased that he’d managed to suck all the fun out of whatever joke he and Lyra had been sharing. Lyra turned to see what the problem was, the curiosity in her eyes turning quickly to some odd combination of irritation and pleasure the instant she saw him.

Considering that pleasure was definitely in there somewhere, he would take it.

“Lyra,” Jaden purred, wondering whether she would play along. “Fancy meeting you here.”

He saw one corner of her mouth twitch before she answered. The look in her eyes was very plainly I’m going to get you for this.

“Jaden,” she said. “What a nice… surprise.” She turned her head to look at her companion, who was already looking suspiciously between them. Jaden thought he looked like the kind of guy who was considered decent looking now, but who had been hung by his underwear from lockers on a fairly regular basis in his youth. Lyra was a prize he didn’t want to share.

“Blake, this is Jaden. Jaden,” she paused, and he caught a warning flash of humor on her face before she fired her opening shot. “Finkleman. Jaden, this is my friend Blake Torrance.”

Jaden slid her a fulminating glare from beneath his lashes when he went to shake the fedora wearer’s hand. Her grin could have melted butter.

“Charmed,” Jaden said, giving Blake’s hand a quick, firm shake and then quickly letting go. The man had sweaty palms. Jaden hated that.

“Do you live in Silver Falls too?” Blake asked. He seemed suspicious. But then, Jaden was fairly sure he practiced his pseudo-intimidating suspicious face in the mirror every morning. He doubted it helped much in his travels, but he probably thought it would heighten his credibility when he eventually got a ghost-hunting TV show.

This sort, in Jaden’s experience, always wanted a TV show. Considerably more than they wanted to know the truth behind the supernatural phenomena they chased around.

“Recent transplant,” Jaden said. “How about you?”

He caught Blake’s eyes and pushed a thought at him: Ask me to stay for dinner.

“I… I’m here on business. And some unexpected pleasure,” Blake said, his eyes clouding for a moment before clearing again. He looked up at Jaden, seeming slightly puzzled. Jaden smiled indulgently and waited.