Must Love Hellhounds

his.
    “No,” he said.
    “We can’t go up against—”
    “A demon has to follow the Rules—no hurting humans, no denying their free will—so he can’t do anything to us. If he’s got vampires with him, we only move in to find Katherine during the day. James is our biggest concern, and Guardians wouldn’t be able to do anything to him , because they’ve got to follow the Rules, too.” Blake paused. “And we’ve got Sir Pup.”
    Which meant, Maggie guessed, that even though Ames-Beaumont worked closely with the Guardians, he hadn’t told them about his family . . . and he didn’t want to risk them finding out.
    “Does anyone else know what you can do? What others in your family can do?”
    “No one except Savi. A few others who’ve married into the family. Uncle Colin has kept it that way for two hundred years.”
    Successfully? Maggie doubted that. Human nature was human nature; even someone like Ames-Beaumont couldn’t squash it. “No one has put it to use? Either for money, or for the government?”
    “Some of us have put it to use. We just don’t tell anyone we’re doing it. As for the money, no one in the family needs it.” Blake leaned his head back, closed his eyes. “They’ve stopped. It’s dark. She can’t see much. Trees. A few small fires.”
    “A campground?” When he nodded, Maggie said, “We can catch up while they’re stopped. Or at least get closer.”
    “That’s—” Blake cut himself off, sat up straight. “They opened the door. There’s James. And another man, standing behind him. Tall, dark hair. The wanker looks right out of GQ .”
    Blake flinched, once.
    “The bloody bastard James drugged her. She’s out again.”

    Around midnight, Maggie began alternating between a fixed stare at the highway and skipping her gaze around the interior of the car and searching the sides of the dark highway, all the while blinking rapidly. Her vision hadn’t been in such a hyperactive mode since they’d left the Brooklyn street.
    She was keeping herself awake, Geoff realized.
    “We’ll stop,” he said. “You’re knackered.” And so was he, despite the nap he’d taken earlier.
    “I’m on West Coast time. I can go longer.”
    “How early this morning did you get the e-mail?” Her silence told him it was very early. “We’ll get a hotel room.”
    “Mr. Blake, I thought you’d never ask.”
    Geoff smiled, but damn if he didn’t wish that he could see her face at that moment. She’d been overruled, yet was responding with humor. She’d held firm when he’d pressed for classified details about her orders to kill James. She was a woman he desperately wanted to know better.
    And he might as well throw his cards on the table. “You only joke because you assume I don’t think about you that way, Maggie. You’re wrong.”
    That apparently surprised her, because she didn’t reply—but he watched where her focus went: to his hands. She was a hands woman. And, remembering how her gaze had lingered on his bare stomach when he’d been handcuffed, and later, when he’d changed his clothing, he amended it to a hands and abs woman.
    Her silence extended. She was looking at the road again, mostly. She glanced at the rearview mirror, once; Sir Pup lifted one of his heads and returned her gaze. The hellhound might appear lazy, Geoff thought, but was completely alert. Then her gaze returned to his hands, darted up to his mouth, and remained there until Geoff began to smile. Her attention flew back to the road.
    He’d given her something to think about. And—thank God—she seemed to be thinking about it.
    Unfortunately, he also had to push the issue in a direction that, if taken the wrong way, might spark her resistance. “And we are to share a room tonight.”
    But, no—Maggie didn’t mistake him. “You don’t trust me,” she said.
    “I don’t trust you to not try resolving this on your own. If we’re in separate rooms, you’ll likely run off in the middle of the night and attempt to find Katherine alone.”
    “If we are in the same room, what’s to stop me from hand-cuffing you to the bed and leaving?”
    Sir Pup pushed one of his heads between the seats again, his ears pricked forward. Unease crawled over Geoff’s skin until he heard the jingle of metal.
    Maggie looked down and gave a short laugh when she spotted the handcuffs that had landed in her lap. “He thinks it’s funny,” she said. “And maybe even a good idea.”
    In Geoff’s opinion,