“You talked?” I asked, surprised and a little worried. Why couldn’t I like nice men?

“Well, she talked.” He made an embarrassed noise. “She threatened to cut off both my heads if I jerked your blood out from under her.”

“Sorry.” I looked out the window, becoming more upset. I didn’t want to have to walk away from Kisten because he had meant for those people to die in some stupid power struggle they weren’t aware of. He took a breath to say something, and I interrupted with a quick, “Would you mind if I used your phone?”

His expression wary, he pulled his shiny phone from a belt holster and handed it to me. Not particularly happy, I called information and got the number for David’s company, and for a few dollars more, they connected me. Why not? It wasn’t my phone.

While Kisten silently drove, I worked my way through their automated system. It was almost midnight. He ought to have been in, unless he was on a run or had gone home early. “Hi,” I said when I finally got a real person. “I need to talk to David Hue?”

“I’m sorry,” an older woman said with an overabundance of professionalism. “Mr. Hue isn’t here presently. Can I give you to one of our other agents?”

“No!” I said before she could dump me back into the system. “Is there a number I can reach him at? It’s an emergency.” Note to self: never, ever throw anyone’s card away again.

“If you’d like to leave your name and number—”

What part of “emergency” didn’t she understand? “Look,” I said with a sigh. “I really need to talk to him. I’m his new partner, and I lost his extension. If you could just—”

“You’re his new partner?” the woman interrupted. The shock in her voice gave me pause. Was David that hard to work with?

“Yeah,” I said, flicking a glance at Kisten. I was sure he could hear both ends of the conversation with his vamp ears. “I really need to talk to him.”

“Ah, can you hold for a moment?”

“You bet.”

Kisten’s face brightened in the glare of oncoming cars. His jaw was fixed and his eyes were riveted to the road.

There was a crackling of the phone being passed, then a cautious, “This is David Hue.”

“David,” I said, smiling. “It’s Rachel.” He didn’t say anything, and I rushed to keep him on the line. “Wait! Don’t hang up. I’ve got to talk to you. It’s about a claim.”

There was the sound of a hand going over the phone. “It’s okay,” I heard him say. “I’ll take this one. Why don’t you make an early night of it? I’ll close down your computer.”

“Thanks, David. I’ll see you tomorrow,” his secretary said faintly, and after a long moment, his voice came back on the line.

“Rachel,” he said warily. “Is this about the fish? I’ve already filed the claim. If you’ve perjured me, I’m going to be very upset.”