Just like the growing hum I was sensing right now.

  I scanned the street, wondering where this particular vibration was coming from, but I didn’t see anyone sitting inside a car or hunkered behind a truck, waiting to leap out and attack me. I kept walking, reaching out with my magic again, but mine were the only footsteps scuffing along the sidewalk.

  Perhaps my conversation with Tucker had unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. Despite my bravado, Clyde O’Neal was still a dangerous enemy, and he had used his combination of giant and dwarven strength to pummel more than one person to death. If I wasn’t careful, he could easily do the same to me.

  But nothing happened, and I made it to my car without incident. I had started to reach for the door handle when that telltale hum sounded in my ears again, and a delicious vibration skittered down my spine. This wasn’t just the sound and feel of another person or some metal object nearby but a particular sensation I knew from past experience. I slowly turned around to find…

  Hugh Tucker standing on the sidewalk.

  My heart leaped up into my throat with a mix of wariness and anticipation. I hadn’t heard him approach, and I wouldn’t have sensed him at all if not for my metal magic. Sometimes I wondered if that was why I was so drawn to Tucker. If we were like tuning forks ringing in perfect harmony with each other, whether we wanted to or not.

  “Here to offer me another escort, Mr. Tucker?” I drawled. “As you can see, I’ve already reached my vehicle.”

  Humor sparked in his black eyes. “Too bad. It’s always such a pleasure to escort you, Ms. Parker.”

  “You do seem to enjoy playing the part of the perfect gentleman. Why is that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  His amusement vanished, and his forehead creased as he considered my question. “My mother, I suppose. She was quite the stickler for manners. I think making me follow the rules gave her some sense of control. Certainly more control than she ever had over my father, who was a mean drunk and a degenerate gambler.” He paused and cleared his throat. “My father squandered my mother’s fortune and greatly diminished the Tucker family’s standing within the Circle.”

  Surprise rippled through me. Despite all the time we’d spent together in that shipping container, this was by far the most personal thing he had ever revealed. “Why are you telling me this?”

  His face remained serious. “I suppose I’m hoping it will improve your opinion of me, however slightly. About who I am and why I worked for Mason Mitchell and the other Circle members for so many years.”

  “And why you did so many awful things on their orders.”

  “Something like that.”

  “And what opinion do you think I currently have of you?”

  He eyed me. “A terrible one, given everything I did to you, Gin, and the rest of your friends over the past several months.”

  Tucker had done some pretty awful things to Gin, including trying to kill her. Then again, she had tried just as hard to kill him in return. But now, despite all that, the two of them were… Well, I wouldn’t say friends. Perhaps not enemies was a better term.

  Tucker had helped Gin figure out Mason’s plan to destroy the Pork Pit, and he had gone along with our heist at the Bellum Bank, when Gin had stolen Mason’s money right out from under Emery Slater and her giant goons. Plus, he had saved my life at the Mitchell family mansion. So my opinion of Hugh Tucker was probably kinder than that of most other folks, including Silvio and Sophia. Then again, they weren’t as drawn to him as I was.

  “People do awful things for all sorts of reasons,” I replied. “Money, jealousy, revenge. Some people even claim that they do those awful things for love.”

  “Like your father and brother?” Tucker asked.

  His voice was soft, his tone kind, but I still felt as though he’d punched me in the throat. I hadn’t thought the vampire knew about my father and my brother, but the Circle had had dealings with Raymond, so Tucker probably knew all about my terrible childhood.

  “Yes, just like my father and brother,” I snapped in an icy tone. “Tell me, did you do awful things to Eira Snow out of love?”

  For once, I’d smashed right through Tucker’s calm façade, and hurt pinched his face before he could hide it. He had been in love with Eira, Gin’s mother, for years, although all his dirty work for the Circle had been one of the many things that had kept them apart.

  That sick, oily shame slithered through my gut again. “I’m sorry. There I go again, making assumptions, making a fool of myself, and talking about things I have no right to discuss.”

  “If I wished to discuss them with anyone, then it would be you, Ms. Parker.”

  I blinked at his confession, even as his voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, inviting me to lose myself in that deceptive softness, to lose myself in him.

  Tucker cleared his throat again. “But I have something else to discuss with you.”

  “What would that be?”

  I’d barely finished speaking when he moved forward. One moment, the vampire was ten feet away. The next, he was standing right in front of me, so close that the wind made the bottom flaps of his overcoat brush up against my jeans. That same wind also brought with it a whiff of his cologne, something soft, subtle, and spicy that made me want to bury my face in his neck and just breathe in his scent.

  But I couldn’t do that. Not here, not now, not ever.

  Still, I wasn’t about to let him know how much his stupid cologne affected me, or that I was worried he was about to deliver a more violent and pointed message from Clyde O’Neal. So I lifted my chin and looked right at him.

  Tucker stared down at me, and a small smile curved his lips. “Do you know what I like about you the most, Ms. Parker?”

  “What?” I asked in a wary voice.

  “That you are absolutely fearless.”

  I frowned. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because here we are, all alone on this deserted street, with me looming over you, and you fully aware of all the horrible things I’ve done. And yet you aren’t the least bit afraid of me.”

  A merry laugh tumbled from my lips. “Is that what this is about? I didn’t agree to Clyde’s offer in the Pork Pit, so you thought you’d get me alone and intimidate me into surrendering? Please. You should know better than that.”

  He tipped his head, acknowledging my point. “Perhaps. But I had to try.”

  Another gust of wind blew down the street, ruffling his black hair. My fingers itched with the sudden urge to drag my hands through his thick locks and thoroughly rumple them, to loosen his tie, unbutton his shirt, and muss him up in some small way. Maybe cracking through that hard shell and seeing what lay underneath would finally make him less attractive and appealing. Probably not, but I was so very, very tempted to try.

  “You should reconsider Clyde’s offer,” Tucker said. “It would be the easiest, safest thing to do.”

  Another laugh tumbled out of my lips, but this one was more caustic than amused. “Very few things in my life have ever been easy or safe, and I see no reason to start making them that way now. I will never sell my shipping yard, no matter what threats come my way from Clyde O’Neal or anyone else.”

  “You would be wise to be wary,” Tucker replied. “Clyde might be a bully and a buffoon, but he should not be taken lightly.”

  A third laugh tumbled out of my mouth, this one a mix of acid and ice. “I’ve only been afraid of two people in my entire life: my father and my brother. Gin killed my father, and I shot my brother with an elemental Ice gun. I’ll do the same thing to Clyde if he keeps threatening me.”

  “And will you do the same to me?” Tucker asked.

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how much you continue to annoy and frustrate me.”

  A wide grin spread across Tucker’s face, as though I had just proclaimed that he was the most interesting person in Ashland. In an instant, he went from cold and aloof to warm and devastatingly handsome.

  “So I’m annoying and frustrating? How lovely to hear. You continue to say the most marvelous things, Ms. Parker. I’m not sure my ego can take much more of the sweet nothings you so drolly dole out every time we meet.”

  The low purr in his voice made sparks erupt in my stomach, although I rolled my eyes in response. “I’m sure your ego can handle just about anything. Now, are you done delivering threats? Because I have other things to do today.”

  “To be clear, your refusal to listen to reason is both annoying and frustrating,” Tucker replied. “You should take the deal. It’s the best one you’re going to get.”

  “I told you before. I’m not interested in any deals from Clyde or anyone else.”

  I stared at him for a few seconds, letting him see how serious I was, then stepped back. Once again, I barely had time to blink before Tucker moved forward again. It almost felt like we were engaged in some complicated ballroom dance, even though we weren’t doing anything more than exchanging words and sharing a few scant inches of concrete.

  “It seems we are at an impasse, as far as annoying each other goes,” he said.

  “But?” I challenged.

  “But perhaps we could do something about the mutual frustration.” Tucker’s voice was much lower and huskier than before, the purr far more pronounced.

  His gaze dropped to my lips. I’d always thought his eyes were as black as his hair, but for the first time, I realized his irises contained a few faint flecks of silver. The tantalizing glimmers reminded me of the night sky, something with just enough light to make you risk drowning in an endless abyss of shadows.

  Tucker’s gaze dropped lower, to my neck, and the silver flecks in his eyes vanished, snuffed out by a darker, even more intense hunger. My heart skipped a beat, then started hammering, the sensation so hard and fast I was sure he could hear my pulse pounding in my throat.

  And how do you like your blood, Mr. Tucker? Ice-cold and served in a crystal flute? My own voice filled my ears, followed by his reply.

  Oh, no, Ms. Parker. I like my blood straight from the source. It can be quite a heady experience, when both parties are willing.

  The vampire had said that a couple of weeks ago, when Gin had brought us lunch while the two of us were sniping at each other in the shipping container. That conversation had floated through my mind almost every day since then, and right now, my entire body was aching to find out exactly how heady that experience would be.

  Tucker slowly leaned forward, as though he was going to kiss me or bite me—or both. I licked my lips and eased up onto my tiptoes, my hands itching to pull him toward me so I could lift my mouth to his—

  Pop! Pop-pop-pop!

  Tucker and I both whirled to the side, spinning away from each other. Out on the street, a car sputtered by, thick clouds of smoke belching out from its tailpipe as it kept backfiring. I let out a tense breath and turned back to Tucker, but he had already stepped away, and his face was carefully blank once more.

  Disappointment washed through me, along with more of that annoyance and frustration. Sometimes I thought I should just throw caution to the wind, kiss Tucker, and see where things led, even if he was working for one of my enemies.

  He tipped his head to me. “I will convey your sentiments to my employer, although I have to warn you that Clyde will not be pleased. There may be some more…pointed requests on his part.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the cold wind that was now gusting in between us. “If Clyde comes after me, then he’s the one who will end up dead. Not me.”

  Another small smile curved Tucker’s lips. “I have no doubt about that.”

  More annoyance spurted through me. I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or not. “But?”

  The smile dropped from his face. “But please be careful all the same, Ms. Parker. I rather like being annoyed and frustrated by you, and I would hate to see our relationship come to an abrupt, unpleasant end.”

  Shock rippled through me at his confession, but before I could respond, Tucker tipped his head to me again, then spun around and strode away.

  Within seconds, he had rounded the corner and vanished from sight, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk, extremely annoyed and even more frustrated than before—in all sorts of ways.

  Chapter Six

  Despite my run-in with Hugh Tucker, the rest of the week passed by without incident.

  I upped security at the shipping yard, but nothing untoward happened there, and no more dead guys mysteriously appeared and then disappeared around my mansion. Silvio hadn’t contacted me with any information yet, so I still didn’t know who the dead guy might have been working with or for, but Clyde O’Neal was taking my refusal to sell my shipping yard much better than I’d expected. I didn’t receive any more visits from Tucker, or threats from anyone else, but the peace and quiet didn’t comfort me. Clyde was probably just trying to sucker me into lowering my guard before he sicced Tucker—or someone else—on me again.

  Either way, the lack of trouble set me on edge, and soon I felt like Silvio had at the Pork Pit earlier in the week. After a while, you got so used to being in danger and dealing with one problem after another that the rare calm spells seemed a little bit…boring.

  Oh, I had no real desire to be in mortal peril, but at least if something horrible had happened, I would have been able to react to it and plan my next move. Waiting and wondering when my enemies were going to strike next was far more unnerving. It always reminded me of coming home from school as a kid and never knowing what kind of mood my father would be in. Whether Renaldo would be kind and charming, or cold and aloof, or angry and abusive.

  As a distraction, I threw myself even deeper into work, and I ramped up my search for someone to help me run the shipping yard, along with the rest of my business. I plowed through dozens of résumés and background checks and even conducted several in-person interviews, but none of the applicants was quite right. They were either too innocent, inexperienced, and idealistic or too hardened, bitter, and jaded like me.

  Even worse, almost every single person had lied on their application in one way or another, and the skeletons in some people’s closets made me even more wary of them. If folks had told me the truth, I might have been able to overlook their prior misdeeds. After all, I wasn’t exactly an upstanding citizen myself, and I’d done plenty of awful things. But starting out with a lie—like claiming you hadn’t embezzled thousands of dollars from your last employer when you actually had—would only lead to more trouble in the end for me.

  My other main distraction was Mallory and Mosley’s take-two wedding reception. Despite all the preplanning my grandmother had done, I still spent several hours helping her pick out table linens, decide on a playlist, and taste-test appetizers, entrees, and desserts. So much for Mallory’s claim that I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Still, spending some quality time with my grandmother helped ease the lonely ache I had felt ever since she had moved in with Mosley.

  Finally, the night of the party arrived. Mallory and I had also gone shopping earlier in the week, and I shimmied into a royal-blue cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline, elbow-length sleeves, and a flared skirt that stopped at my knees. I left my black hair loose around my shoulders, highlighted my blue eyes with smoky silver shadow and liner, and painted my lips a deep, dark scarlet. Black kitten heels and my rose-and-thorn ring completed my party ensemble.

  I grabbed my coat and purse and drove over to the Rhododendron Inn. A clipper storm had moved through Ashland yesterday and covered the ground with a couple more inches of snow and ice, but the winding road that led up to the resort was clear.

  The Rhododendron Inn had been built in the early 1900s by Marisol Patton, a wealthy woman who wanted a mountaintop retreat so she could escape the sweltering summer heat in the lower hills and hollers around the city. Over the years, the Patton family had added on to the inn, until now the massive structure boasted thirteen stories and three wings, along with a spa, a golf course, a man-made lake, and a chairlift that climbed up to the ski and sledding slopes on the very tiptop of the mountain.

  The resort’s exterior featured round white stones crisscrossed with thin black wooden beams, making it look like an enormous tic-tac-toe board that had been partially filled in. Golden light spilled out of the wide picture windows, highlighting the folks in tuxedos and glittering gowns who were streaming toward the main entrance. I handed my car off to a waiting valet and followed the crowd to the main ballroom in the center of the resort.

  I’d been to dozens of luncheons and fund-raisers here, but tonight the staff had transformed the space into a winter wonderland that mirrored the snowy landscape outside. Sparkly silver linens adorned the tables, while matching panels of fabric covered with tiny white and blue twinkle lights swooped down from the ceiling like elaborate electrified cobwebs. Even more lights wrapped around glittering silver trees clustered together in the corners.

  Some folks were meandering along the buffet tables, while others were standing in groups, talking, laughing, and sipping drinks. An enthusiastic band was playing swing tunes on the stage in the back of the ballroom, and the mood was fun and festive. A smile spread across my face. Mallory had been right. This was the perfect way to celebrate her new life with Mosley.

  “Pumpkin! There you are!” Mallory waved at me, and I headed over to her.

  My grandmother looked lovely in a powder-blue cocktail dress covered with silver sequins, while her favorite diamond tiara was nestled in her teased cloud of snow-white hair. Mosley was by her side, looking as distinguished as always in a matching powder-blue tuxedo. Together, the two of them reminded me of a prom queen and her adoring king.

  I kissed them both on their cheeks, then drew back. “The party is wonderful.”