“You might think you’re in control, but Rick has a way of turning things to his advantage,” Liam said, destroying the moment.
I blinked at him, then blinked again. “Yes, because I am a helpless woman who doesn’t know her own mind. I will just fall prey to his lascivious urges. I can’t help it. Really.”
Liam glowered at me in displeasure, not appreciating my humor in the slightest.
I sighed and shook my head. “Is there a reason you pulled me into this dark alcove?”
He straightened. “Yes, but I’m not entirely sure I should share it with you anymore. Your choice in companion shows a distinct lack in judgment.”
I gave him my death glare. He remained unmoved. Hm, it seemed my death glare could use a little work.
I shrugged, affecting a nonchalance I didn’t feel. Curiosity about what he’d planned to tell me burned in me. “Suit yourself. I’ll just go find some of that Fae wine Nathan told me about and make even more poor judgment calls.”
The way he took up the small space meant making a grand exit was out, so I settled for gazing up at him expectantly.
He sighed and reached into his jacket. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“The Judge,” I gasped, snatching the gun from his hand.
I hadn’t seen my old friend since Nathan confiscated it during my last visit to the Gargoyle.
I’d missed it. Of all my guns, this was the one I most preferred. It was a revolver, a .45 caliber long Colt. Its stopping power would put most things in the ground, especially when you took into account my homemade ammunition incorporated silver nitrate into the mix.
“Where’d the ammo go that was in here?” I hissed when I noticed the rounds had been switched out.
“These are iron, much more appropriate for the current situation,” Liam murmured.
I lifted my head, slightly surprised. “This wasn’t all just an elaborate excuse to get me all dressed up, then?”
His gaze turned amused as he tweaked a piece of hair that had slipped free to curl against my cheek. “No, that’s just a happy bonus.”
I leaned back against the wall. Iron for our Fae guests. They were said to have a weakness for it. The Judge was the perfect weapon, effective on our potential enemies and next to useless against a vampire.
This indicated trust from Liam—but only to a point.
It didn’t make me any less surprised to have my friend back. Vampires didn’t like when guests went armed in their homes. I’d almost kissed any thought of getting the Judge back goodbye.
“You’ll need this,” Liam said, handing over a thigh holster.
I made a face. Those never fit as well as they should. Not to mention they were crazy uncomfortable. Still, the thigh was the only place I had a hope of disguising a revolver.
Liam loomed between me and the rest of the hall, giving me privacy to slip my dress up and attach the holster to my leg.
His eyes gleamed appreciatively at the long expanse of bare skin.
“You could be a gentleman,” I told him.
His grin was roguish. “I was never that. A lord’s airs don’t suit me.”
My fingers paused on the fastenings. This was a rare, tantalizing hint to who he might have been before his transition to vampire.
I wanted more. The knowing look on Liam’s face said he guessed as much and was waiting for inevitable questions.
For that reason, I kept my silence and straightened, testing out the holster’s ability to stay put. It would hold, I concluded after several experimental movements.
I looked to where Liam still waited, watching me with the kind of look a man gives a woman he intends to get naked. I let confidence infuse my movements as I sauntered over to him, placing my hand on his chest.
I was gratified and emboldened when his breath caught. I shifted onto my tiptoes, my lips hovering near his, not quite touching. “It’s too bad. The gentleman would have received a kiss in thanks.”
