"That's not small talk. It's an attempt at conversation, since we've got a bit of a drive ahead. Now, if you'd rather play a car game to pass the time, I'm always up for 'I Spy with My Little Eye.'" He grinned.
She didn't. "Just drive."
What a bitch.
Maybe he could just knock her out. If she left him with no other choice…
No. The whole hitting-a-girl thing had never gone over with him very well. Even if the girl could kick his ass.
"We're headed toGoodlaw ," he told her after another minute.
"That's where the Eye is?"
"That's what I think."
She frowned. "You mean you don't know?"
"Not for sure. No."
She let out another sigh; this time it was shaky.
"Who sent you for it?" he asked.
She crossed her arms over her white tank top. The edge of her shoulder holster peeked out past her blue jacket. "That doesn't matter."
"You don't look very happy, Janie. Is everything okay?"
She actually laughed a little at that, but it didn't sound friendly. "Yeah, life's a dream. Every day's a gift.
Keep your eyes on the road, cowboy."
Quinn clutched the steering wheel so tightly his hands began to go numb. He couldn't help but cast a dark look at her, which earned him another humorless laugh as she looked back at him.
"That's more like it. I wasn't buying the whole chatty thing you had going on." She eyed him slowly, from his worn jeans up to his dark sunglasses. "So, how's being a creature of darkness suiting you, anyhow?
Should I have my wooden stake at the ready?"
"For anyone else, it wouldn't be necessary. But for you, Janie? I think it's a reasonable precaution."
"Bitten any interesting necks lately?"
"I don't do that."
"Sure you don't."
He glanced at her again and noticed she was playing with the side of her neck. Her long blond hair swept away enough that he noticed the fading red marks there.
"Who bit you?" he asked, feeling tension creeping up his shoulders.
"A vampire."
"Obviously. Are you okay?"
She brushed her hair over her neck to cover it. "Never better."
Quinn forced away the concern that came immediately to him. She wasn't the cute, harmless kid he used to know. She was a twenty-five-year-oldMerc who was standing in the way of the only thing in the universe he wanted and who'd already proven with thetranq dart last time they went face to face that she didn't mind pulling the trigger if he was at the receiving end of it. "Well, you probably deserved it."
Her eyes narrowed. "And he deserved the stake I put through his heart. See? Everybody's happy."
He sighed. So much for the "Charm Janie" plan. Looked like her crush was long dead. Not that he blamed her.
"You were a cute kid back in the day," he said.
"Thanks so much," she replied, dryly.
"I remember all those dolls you and your sister had. You used to dress them up and put them around the table. Make up stories about them. I always thought you'd grow up to be a writer or something."
"Writer," she said. "Paid assassin. Not much of a difference, is there?"
"And what did you like to be called? Was it the Lady of the Manor?"
She rolled her eyes. "I read a lot back then. I was a stupid kid."
"No, you weren't. You had a great imagination."
"Peter didn't think so. He always made fun of me."
"Peter was your older brother. It was his solemn duty to make fun of you."
She leaned back in the seat. "That was a long time ago. Things were different."
"True." His mind drifted for a second back to a much simpler time. "I just remembered something."
"Stop the presses."
He shot her a look and then shook it off to give her a forced grin instead. "You were the only one who ever got my jokes. Remember the one about the penguins in the bathtub?"
"Not even remotely."
He couldn't stop now. "Two penguins are sitting in a bathtub. One penguin looks at the other and says,
'Can you pass me the soap?' The second penguin says, 'What do I look like, a penguin?'"
She fixed him with a blank look. "That's the stupidest joke I've ever heard. It doesn't even make any sense."
"That's what's so funny about it. I remember you laughed so hard, milk shot out of your nose."