On the Hunt
Page 47

"I'll treat you to the full-court press once you admit it." He gave her a slow, devilish smile, his trademark. It never failed to unravel female composure, and get him whatever or wherever he wanted.
Sunny just scrunched her nose up at him, utterly unaffected. "Admit what?"
"That you're not human." He folded both arms across his chest with a self-satisfied gesture. "Not even close."
"Of course Sunny is human." Shay came trotting down the stairs. "And about time you showed up. First, you vanish when we've got guests coming. And now? You harass them. Good work, big brother. Thanks for being completely embarrassing."
Jamie pointed at Sunny, sputtering, "How . . . how can you not see it, too?"
"Jamie." Shay eyeballed him hard, but before he could explain that he really was just calling it like he saw it, his sister linked arms with Sunny and Kate. "Come on, ladies. Let me show you some proper hospitality. Just ignore Neanderthal James."
Jamie skulked behind them, slowly meandering toward the dining room in their wake.
Something about Sunny Renfroe wasn't right; he was sure of it. He didn't get an evil vibe off her, but his senses were definitely picking up that she was supernatural in nature. He just didn't know if she was a threat. He knew enough about evil, too, to realize that it often came dressed up and looking pretty . . . and a lot like what you most wanted. Also, it wouldn't be smart to forget that the wards protecting their property had been compromised several times lately.
Yet how could he explain the instant attraction he'd felt awaken inside of him, an almost magnetic pull toward Sunny Renfroe? He prided himself on never reacting this strongly to any female; he had far too many walls in place to do so.
Besides, she wasn't even his type, although he'd always had a thing for big brown eyes like hers. And for curls, and she a head full of light brown corkscrew spirals that tumbled to her shoulders. Watching those curls bounce as she walked into the dining room, he had to fight the urge to rush after her and stroke one, wrap it around his pinkie.
But evil often came looking pretty and full of seduction. He vowed to remember that. He'd assumed a position of detente regarding Kate and the Savannah-area vampires, but whatever Sunny was . . . Well, he'd made no promises not to expose or hunt other paranormal creatures.
After everyone had wrapped up brunch, Mason brought out a margarita machine, and the vampire crew all seemed to think that cocktails in the afternoon was a splendid idea.
Pain in the ass, that was what it was. Jamie had hoped they'd already be heading out the door by now, not settling in for the long haul. He'd participated in enough Cinco de Mayo celebrations to realize that one margarita had the mystical quality of becoming two or three.
Jamie tailed Mason into the kitchen, where he stood, starting to read the machine's directions.
"So tell me you saw it, too," Jamie hissed under his breath.
Mason glanced up at him curiously. "Saw what?"
"That Sunny girl is supernatural in nature. It can't be good, either, considering she's cavorting with known vampires."
Mason laughed, and started reading the directions again. "Having a vampire in the house has your dander all in a knot. Chill and be nice to them."
"I was plenty polite to them both. I even pulled Kate's chair out for her at the dining table."
Mason smirked. "Well, don't you get the good-citizenship award for gentlemanly excellence?"
"Damn it, Mace, take this seriously. I'm telling you—that female ain't right. She's not human, and she's here, in our house. What's to say she's not doing recon work as we speak? Trying to find the way into the cellar to destroy some of our lore?"
"I can hear her laughing in the dining room," Mason told him matter-of-factly. "Sounds really sinister, too, man. Better go arm yourself down in the cellar, get that new Glock of mine."
As if to underscore Mason's sarcasm, at that exact moment he heard Sunny's light, sweet-sounding laughter as she said, "He's not that hot."
Him. They were laughing at him; he knew it.
"She is not human," he ground out.
"What are you saying, then? That she's a demon?" Mace gave him a hard-boiled stare, the kind of glance he'd probably used to intimidate privates and even squeaky-new lieutenants under his command back in his Marine Corps days. " 'Cause we both know she wouldn't have made it past the wards if that were true."
Jamie sighed. "Didn't stop you from suspecting Juliana a few months ago, the fact that she'd gotten past the protections—and it turned out you were right."
"Partially right," Mace corrected. "Juliana had accidentally bound herself to a demon. She wasn't one.... That's how she was able to get past the wards."
"So then why are you automatically assuming I'm wrong, not that maybe I could be on to something? Just like you were on the right track with Juliana. But no, I'm half-cocked and seeing things that aren't there!"
"Jamie, come on, now." Mace set the directions on the kitchen counter and turned to face him.
"I'm listening to you."
"But you don't believe me."
"I didn't sense a damn thing about her—so to speak." Mason laughed and Jamie gave him a mirthless look in return. "I could sense Juliana's demon from the moment I laid eyes on her,"
Mason argued. "With Sunny, I get nothing. Shay's obviously got nothing, too."
"Maybe I'm just a better hunter than you both."
Mason rolled his eyes. "Oh, you did not just say that."
"I'm the eldest, which means I've had the sight longer than either of you."
"You're the head honcho, bro, but that don't make you the most talented in our bunch. You are wrong sometimes."
"Name a time."
"Uh, how about now? It's not just Shay and me against you on this one. Dillon's developed a really strong gift with his hunting, too. So that's three of us who don't sense anything wrong with Sunny."
Mason's boyfriend, Nikos, came into the kitchen right then, and Mace's eyes lit up when he saw that Nik had arrived. "Hey, you know how to work a margarita machine?" he asked as Nikos gave him a quick kiss.
They shared a flirtatious glance as Mace handed over the directions, and it was clear that Mason had already halfway forgotten his conversation with Jamie. It was annoying to be around people who had recently fallen in love, and Jamie rolled his eyes, thinking about how passion blinded people to plain good sense.
Wait. That was it.... He could use that very thing against Sunny. Get her guard down, then learn the truth. She'd responded to him physically, even though she'd tried to knock him down a few pegs. He'd seen the lust and arousal flare in her eyes, and he'd smelled the desire radiating off her skin, too.
Come New Year's night, he'd find a way to get much, much closer to the woman and, in the process, discover her secret. Then again, why wait at all? What was wrong with enacting his seduction plan today with the power of a few margaritas?
Chapter Three
"Think you can hide from me out here?" Jamie Angel stepped onto the upstairs balcony, where Sunny had been sitting for a few minutes. She loved the bubbling sounds of the creek and marsh.
For the end of December, it was an unusually mild evening, and the light breeze from the water was soothing.
And, yes, she had been completely avoiding Jamie for hours, the balcony only her latest effort in that battle. He was too hot, too sexy, and way, way too dangerous. That, and he'd made an obvious point of trying to pursue her ever since brunch. The long afternoon had stretched into early evening, with the holidays clearly making everyone relaxed. Around three p.m., Mason had broken out the margarita machine he'd received as a Christmas present from Shay, and now pretty much everyone was feeling a little bit toasty.
Jamie sprawled into a wicker chair beside her, draining the last of his margarita. "You didn't answer me, Sunny." He propped his booted feet up on the balcony railing, tilting his chair back onto two legs in a relaxed, sexy posture. "You've been avoiding me," he observed. "Why?"
"Because you're a bad boy and I know your kind." She shifted in her own chair, knowing she should leave, yet finding that she lacked the will to do so.
"What happened to me being a pussy cat?" He said the last word with a wicked grin.
She rolled her eyes. "You just proved my point most elegantly."
He smiled at her, and for once it didn't seem manufactured or intended to accomplish anything.
And it absolutely melted her heart. To see a glimpse of the real Jamie, for just a moment, affected her more strongly than any of his flirtation or innuendo ever could. There was genuine sweetness there. She sensed that he hid it from almost everyone in his life—and that he guarded his heart just as vigilantly.
After a long moment during which it seemed their gazes were locked, neither able to look away or stop smiling at the other, he faced forward again. Reaching in the pocket of his denim jacket, he retrieved a cigar and slowly began trimming it.
"You mind?" he asked as an obvious afterthought, gesturing with the cigar.
She shook her head and rose to her feet. "I was just about to go inside anyway."
As she started to walk past him, Jamie blocked her exit with his left leg, trapping her close against him. "Not so fast, Sunny Renfroe."
There was danger in his tone, but as she looked down into his light green eyes, there was a heap more flirtation.
"I have plans for us," he said, and before she could blink, he reached out and ran one hand along her upper thigh. Slowly he stroked her there, his touch so lingering and sensual that her eyes watered. "Yep, you're as good as I thought you'd be," he whispered throatily. "Better."
She should've shoved him out of the way; she should've hightailed it to the other side of the veranda. Instead, she stood mesmerized, feeling her skin practically burn as he caressed her leg again, a little higher.