Ivaz shakes his head. “I’m occupied this week. I’ll come—”
“But, Ivaz! She’s my fam—”
Ivaz thumps his fist on the desk, disturbing the inkwell but not tipping it. “My duties in Debrecen cannot be so easily terminated. I’ll send word to Bettina. I’ll send word to Janos. When I’m done here, I shall meet you in the pursuit myself. I’ll arrange for wagons and men to help bring the girls home. In the meantime, I’ll make arrangements for your lodging at The Twig and Berries in Pest. The proprietor is a friend of mine, and he’ll take good care of you. And that will have to be enough, brother.”
Silence.
Thethump thumpof my heart echoes in my ears. “Bowie…” I begin, but he doesn’t look at me. He’s staring daggers at Ivaz.
Ivaz gestures to me. “Listen to the wolf.”
I can help, so I try to persuade him again. “Let me run the perimeter of the city. I’ll know if she’s come through and which way they’re headed.”
Pressing his fist to his chin, Bowie considers. He looks perfectly wretched, as if a feather could knock him over. “We’re wasting time,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “I’m going to pack.”
Bowie storms from the room. I go to follow, hoping I can calm him enough to see reason when Ivaz calls me back.
“Andras, is it?” His voice softens. “Stay a moment, would you?”
Though it’s phrased as a request, I feel an unnatural urge to obey. Testing it, I discover I can ignore the urge. I’m free to leave the room, but the odd sensation stirs fear.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask.
The urge recedes.
“Apologies,” says Ivaz in his low rumble. His hands open in contrition. “Habit.” He stands and comes around the desk to face me. He’s at least a foot taller than I am and twice as wide. That, plus the invisible throbbing energy that radiates from him, has me backing up.
“I should check on Bowie,” I mutter.
“And you will, but first.” Ivaz cocks his head, studying me. “What are you?”
I hesitate. Revealing myself is a risk, but arguing will only take up more time we don’t have. And I doubt this vampire is accustomed to much resistance. I don’t want to provoke him. I tug off my hat and let my ears flick from my head.
“Nothing special,” I say. “A mongrel. But I’m good at following scent trails.”
His pupils dilate. His interest unnerves me. He looks like he wants to reach out and touch me but wisely holds himself back. “I bet you are.” His gaze drifts lower, scrutinizing the fit of my pants. “Your tail remains even in your human form, doesn’t it?”
I squirm as I answer. “It does.”
His attention is a lot to weather. I glance past him to his trophy wall. My eyes land on a pistol. I’ve never seen one outside of a book before. The gun isn’t as terrifying looking as the axes and cudgels surrounding it, but the peppery scent makes my nose itch.
Ivaz clears his throat, bringing my gaze back to his. “Bettina will be eager to meet a creature like yourself.”
My hackles rise. If he notices the fur along my spine pushing at my shirt, he doesn’t mention it. I don’t want to meet Bowie’s maker, and I don’t want her knowing what I am.
Ivaz must sense my unease because he shifts topics. “Bowie has never brought a guest to my establishment. Everyone was pleasantly surprised to see you on his arm. It’s good he’s finally taken a lover.”
Heat creeps to my cheeks. “We aren’t…lovers,” I stammer.
“You are,” he insists, then reconsiders. “Perhaps not yet, but you will be.”
This is none of his business, and I don’t have time for it. “I’m going. He needs my help.”
“Yes, he really does.” The corners of Ivaz’s lips rise. Whether it’s a smile or a smirk, I can’t say.
I hurry from the room with the feeling that I need another bath just to wash his gaze from my body.
* * *
