Page 20 of Caretaker

Chapter Seven

“That went well.” Al leaned up from where he sat in the backseat of my car and grinned. “For the most part, it went very well. Rhys will be pleased.”

Shane had decided to drive home, and I sat in the front passenger side thinking about Angus. “What are you to Rhys, exactly?” I asked Al.

“His puppet,” Shane said.

Al shrugged and sat back. “A lot of supernaturals have a human assistant. Rhys has many. We’re his eyes, ears, and muscle when he needs us.”

“Are you a group?” I was fascinated. I unbuckled and turned around to face him. “Do the members know each other?”

Shane snorted. “They’re fucking groupies.”

For the first time, Al’s face changed from open and bland to just a little dark. “The way you’re Amias Sato’s groupie, Copas?”

Shane gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “Fuck you.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?” I looked at Al, who met Shane’s glare in the mirror, then sat back and stared out his window, silent. “Shane, did Amias—”

“Drop it.”

I couldn’t get too pissed. It was my fault Shane was connected to the master at all. I’d been the one who’d screwed up a hunt and nearly gotten him killed. I’d been the one to beg Amias to help him.

So I just stared out my window and lost myself once again in thoughts of finding the judge’s wife and getting Angus home.

“What do you think they’re doing to him?” I asked when we were nearly home.

Al cleared his throat, but neither he nor Shane answered.

“When are you going to catch Madalyn Bennett’s scent?” Shane asked.

“As soon as I have some dinner. I need protein.” I wasn’t hungry, really—a day of witnessing the systematic starvation of imprisoned supernaturals could curb a person’s appetite—but I had to eat if I was going to hunt.

We parted ways with Alejandro when we reached the house—he declined the invitation to dinner—then I went inside, Shane at my side, to report to the waiting children.

They’d lined up in the living room, nervous and quiet, to get news of their father. Cory, solemn and big-eyed, was the first to speak. “Did you tell him I got my shift?”

I couldn’t help but smile, and when I did, I could feel everyone in the room giving a sigh of relief and relaxing just a little. I wouldn’t have smiled if Angus had been dead.

“Your father is doing fine,” I told them. “He said to tell you he loves you and he’ll see you as soon as possible.” I still couldn’t bring myself to tell them I was working on getting him out. I guess I didn’t believe in myself that much.

I talked to the kids for the next twenty minutes, then Shane took my arm. “Get cleaned up. I’ll have dinner waiting so you can eat before we track the judge’s woman.”

I studied him. His changes had been subtle and gradual, and they’d sneaked up on me over the last few months. Oh, he was still a jerk, but he was attentive to me. Reluctantly so, sure, but still.

My stare traced the familiar scars on his face before lingering on his lips, and I darted out a tongue to wet my suddenly dry ones. “You’re going to help me track Madalyn Bennett?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I help you track her?”

It was my turn to raise a brow. I shrugged. “I’m not working for money—only Angus’s release. You won’t be getting paid if you help.”

As Red Valley’s official bloodhunter, I was employed by the city to hunt and kill vampires. Shane was paid as part of my hunting party. The other jobs—finding a human’s missing person or tracking a particular vampire—were side jobs and I was compensated privately. I split that money with Shane. He’d made no secret of the fact that he wouldn’t do it if not for the money. And I didn’t blame him, but it was a surprise that he’d help me now.

“I said I’d help,” he muttered, turning away to stride toward the kitchen. Off to make our dinner.

I shook my head and ran up the stairs. Shane Copas was hard to figure out. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d have laughed if someone suggested he cook for me, and now he was volunteering.

Silverlight was waiting, safe and sound, when I opened the safe. There was always a little part of me that feared she’d be gone when I left her home alone. Someone would steal her, or the person or group she’d originally belonged to would find her and take her back.