Demon Night

hear.
    Ethan shook his head, lowered his face into her line of sight. “We block, Charlie. You listen for certain things—a partner’s voice, your name—but the rest is just background noise.”
    “Okay.” She turned back to her computer. That explained how he’d gotten upstairs so fast—listening for his name. She thought if he was in her range, she’d always hear him, as well. And not just his voice; her body seemed attuned to his presence on every level.
    She shifted in her seat. At least she could be certain that it wasn’t just his blood in her; it had been this way before she was transformed.
    “Are you uncomfortable here, Charlie?”
    She quickly met his eyes again, was surprised by the troubled expression in them. “No. Not because of the people—everyone seems nice.” And obviously like family to him; she hoped her discomfort hadn’t suggested they were lacking in any way. “I’m just not sure of my place yet, or how everything works. It’s a little unsettling.”
    “All right.” His features relaxed into a smile. “Then I’ll just sit and watch you settle. Ain’t nothing in the world like watching a pretty woman study.”
    Her face felt hot. Even a vampire’s cold cheeks could blush, apparently. “I’ve heard that before,” she said, and opened her browser.
    From the corner of her vision, she saw his grin, broad and white. “You got a story for me, Miss Charlie? Can you talk and work?”
    “I do it all of the time—” She clicked her tongue when an error message popped up on her screen instead of the university login. “Okay, just a second. How do I connect to the wireless?”
    Ethan sat up. “Savi?”
    Almost instantly, the slim vampire was leaning between their shoulders, clicking and typing. “This is a great little system,” Savi said. “I almost got one of these a year or so ago.”
    A wry smile curved Charlie’s mouth. By the time Charlie could have saved up enough to buy it, it would have been beyond obsolete. “It was Jane’s. She gave it to me when she upgraded—”
    Savi’s fingers froze above the keyboard. “Jane’s? As in, your sister who is employed by Legion? Did she use this for work?”
    Charlie hesitated until she met Ethan’s eyes over Savi’s arms. “Yes. Sometimes. It was her backup system for when she forgot her other computer at the lab.”
    “Oh my god.” Savi’s fangs were gleaming with her enormous, laughing smile. “Can I have it? I’ll take off all of your files and settings and put them in a new one. A better one.”
    “But Jane deleted all of her…” Charlie trailed off when Savi shook her head.
    “There’s a chance I can recover some of it.”
    “Oh. Well, okay then, I guess—”
    “Yes!” Savi grabbed Charlie’s face and smashed their lips together in a quick, cool kiss. Stunned, Charlie watched the computer disappear from the table and the other woman practically dance back to her desk.
    Jake looked from Charlie to Savi, who was already plugging wires into the laptop. “Can you do that again, please? I’m sure her contribution deserves more than one kiss.”
    Ethan took her hand, tugged her to her feet. “As Charlie apparently can’t do her work tonight, I reckon I’ll show her how grateful we are by familiarizing her with the warehouse,” he said. “And maybe taking her for a ride over the city before I head back on up to Seattle.”
    “And Drifter wins again,” Savi chuckled.

    By the time Charlie had finished brushing the wind out of her hair, Ethan had switched the small bed for the one from her apartment, set up her stereo on the desk, and placed her shelves of CDs along the wall.
    He was moving the roses to her nightstand as she came out of the bathroom, and he turned his head, his gaze running her length. It stopped her in her tracks, and she lost her voice yet again. Perhaps it was for the best, this time. There was only one thought in her head, and only one thing she might have said.
    Good Lord, but she was hopelessly in love with him.
    It didn’t seem so light this time, but a weight held over her head, waiting to drop onto her shoulders. But it was still clean, still bright, and amid everything else, something good that she desperately wanted to hang on to.
    Except she’d never been good at judging when hanging on became a chokehold—or a death grip. He was solid, and it was so easy to rely on him, especially when he seemed so determined to help her adjust.
    But it would have been nice if he