Blood Trail

start, was natural; the brows could have been lightened but not the lashes. While not exactly pretty, the pale hair made for an exotic contrast with the deep tan. And that sundress certainly leaves little tan to the imagination.
    Their eyes met and Vicki's brows rose. Just for an instant she almost had a grasp of what was really going on, then the instant passed and the girl was looking up through her lashes and smiling shyly.

    The large red dog had gone to sit by Henry's side, his head level with Henry's waist, and now the two of them walked forward. Henry wore a carefully neutral expression. The dog looked amused.

    "Vicki, I'd like you to meet Rose Heerkens. Her family is having some trouble I think you can help them with."

    "Pleased to meet you." Vicki held out her hand and after a quick glance at Remy - What did he tell her about me? - the younger woman put hers in it. Very few women are any good at shaking hands, not having been raised to do it, but Vicki was surprised by both a grip that matched her own and a callus-ridged palm.

    As Rose released her hold, she extended the motion to indicate the dog now leaning against her legs. "This is Storm."

    Storm held up a paw.

    Bending over to take it, Vicki grinned. "Pleased to meet you too, Storm."

    The big dog gave a short bark and leaned forward, dragging his tongue across Vicki's face with enough force to almost dislodge her glasses.

    "Storm, stop it!" With both hands buried in the russet ruff, Rose yanked the dog back. "Maybe she doesn't want to be covered in slobber."

    "Oh, I don't mind." She wiped her face off with her palm and resettled her glasses on her nose.
    "What kind of a dog is he? He's beautiful." Then she laughed, for Storm obviously recognized the compliment and was looking smug.

    "Please don't encourage him, Ms. Nelson, he's vain enough already." Rose dug her knee in behind the big dog's shoulder and shoved, knocking him over. "And as for what kind he is -
    he's a nuisance."

    Storm didn't look at all put out by being so unceremoniously dumped. Tongue lolling, he rolled over on his back, all four feet in the air, and looked expectantly up at Vicki.

    "Do you want your stomach rubbed, then?"

    "Storm." Henry's command brought the animal off the floor, to stand looking remarkably chastened.

    Vicki glanced at Henry in astonishment. What was with him?

    "Perhaps," he met Yield's eyes then swept his gaze over the girl and the dog, "we should get on with things."

    Vicki found herself moving toward the couch without having made a conscious decision to move. She hated it when he did that. She hated the way she responded to it. And she really hated not being sure if it was the vampire or the prince she was responding to - somehow knuckling under to a supernatural ability seemed less reprehensible than giving in to a medieval petty dictator. His undead highness and I are going to have to have a little talk about this ....

    Tossing her bag down, she settled back against the red velvet upholstery, watching Rose curl up in the armchair and Storm throw himself to the floor at her feet. He looked splendid against the cream colored carpet but the russet fur clashed a little desperately with the crimson of the chair. Henry dropped one denim-clad leg on the arm of the couch and perched beside her, so close that, for a moment, Vicki was aware of him alone.

    "It's too soon, Vicki, you lost a lot of blood."

    She felt her face flush. It had never occurred to her that he wouldn't want to .... It was what they were leading up to, wasn't it? "They put most of it back at the hospital, Henry. I'm fine.
    Really. "

    "I believe you." He smiled and she suddenly found the air available in the hallway inadequate.

    He's had over four hundred and fifty years to practice that smile, she reminded herself.
    Breathe.

    "We have to be very careful," he continued, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. "I don't want to hurt you."

    It sounded so much like dialogue out of a bad soap opera that Vicki grinned. "Just so long as you remember I haven't got a couple of hundred years to spare," she told him, digging for her apartment keys, "I'll try not to rush you."

    That had been almost four months ago, the first time they'd gone out after she'd been released from the hospital. And they still hadn't. Vicki had tried to be patient but there were times, and with him sitting so close this was one of them, when she wanted to kick his feet out from under him and beat him to the