The Rogue Hunter (8 page)

"I don't really care for broccoli. I'll serve myself, thank you."

"Greens are good for you," Mortimer said, setting another floret on her plate and following it with cauliflower, celery, and several baby carrots before handing the dish of vegetables off to Bricker.

A burble of sound drew her gaze to Alex, to see that her sister was desperately trying to stifle a burst of laughter. Apparently she was finding his behavior entertaining. Sam was not.

"Which would you like?"

Sam blinked and glanced to the tray of meat Mortimer was now holding. At least he was going to take her wishes into account with this, she thought on a sigh.

"I'd like a cheeseburger," she said stiffly.

Mortimer nodded and set a cheeseburger on her plate, then hesitated and picked up the fork on the plate to stab one of the strips of steak as well.

"I don't want that," Sam said quickly, raising her hand to block him from putting it on her already overflowing dish.

"You're too pale; you need more red meat in your diet," he said firmly.

"But I can't possibly eat all this," she protested as the steak landed on her potato salad mountain.

"You're too skinny. Eat up." He passed the platter on to Bricker without further comment and then turned his attention to his own meal.

Sam stared with disbelief as he proceeded to eat. She couldn't believe the sheer gall of the man. Bossing her around, deciding what she should and shouldn't eat, and then ignoring her when she'd intended to ignore him to begin with. Somehow the evening had turned topsy-turvy and she hadn't a clue how or why.

Shaking her head, she glanced toward Alex and then Jo, frowning when she saw that rather than being offended for her, both of her sisters seemed amused. She could have smacked them. Neither one would enjoy being treated like a child.

"It's all right."

Sam glanced to Bricker in question.

"He's just trying to help you," Bricker said, though she didn't think she'd seen his mouth move. Sam was frowning as that realization tried to grab hold of her thoughts, but it was the oddest thing… the thought was as slippery as a fish, slipping out of her grasp before she could get a proper hold on it.

"Don't be angry with him."

Those words distracted her from the worry about his lips moving and Sam stared at him silently.

"Just relax and enjoy yourself."

Relax and enjoy herself, she thought slowly. Yes, that made sense. She was on vacation, after all. She
should
relax and enjoy herself, Sam thought. Feeling her tension slipping away, she smiled serenely and turned to the food on her plate.

They ate in silence at first, everyone concentrating on the meal.

"This is good," Bricker said suddenly as he took a second of the thin strips of steak from the platter. "What did you put on the steak?"

"It's Alex's special marinade," Jo announced with a proud grin. "She won't tell you what's in it so don't even bother to ask."

"It's really good," Bricker complimented again, making Alex flush with pleasure. "So is the dip. What's—?"

"That's Alex's recipe too," Sam informed him. "And again, don't even bother to ask the ingredients. She guards her recipes like a miser hoards his money."

"She has to. It's her business," Jo said in Alex's defense and then announced proudly, "Alex is the owner and head chef at La Bonne Vie, one of Toronto's premier cordon bleu restaurants. Normally any meal she cooks would cost the earth, so enjoy."

A round of murmuring went up at that, and there were several compliments on her cooking, but Sam couldn't help but notice that only Bricker and Mortimer were actually eating the food. Decker Pimms was mostly pushing his food around his plate. There was no worry about leftovers, however; Justin Bricker and Garrett Mortimer were eating enough for four men. She caught Decker and Bricker exchange a meaningful smile as they watched Mortimer eat, but didn't understand what that was about since Bricker was matching the man.

"What do you do, Sam?" Decker asked suddenly. His tone sounded interested, but she couldn't help but notice that his gaze was on Mortimer as he asked.

"I'm a junior lawyer at a firm in Toronto," she admitted.

Apparently deciding that her explanation was too tame, Alex elaborated, "She works for Babcock, Hillier, and Bundy."

A moment of silence passed as the men exchanged questioning glances. It was obvious none of them had heard of the firm, but then why should they? Unless they'd had legal difficulties or were in law themselves, they wouldn't. Alex decided to enlighten them. "Babcock, Hillier, and Bundy are one of the most prestigious firms in Canada. Lawyers from all over the country would kill to work for them, and she was headhunted straight out of university. It was a major coup."

"It's not that big a deal," Sam said modestly when the men all turned interested glances her way. "Mostly I'm a glorified law clerk. I do a lot of research and information gathering and gofering—"

"For Babcock, the head guy," Alex interjected firmly, and then informed them, "She's being groomed for a senior partnership."

"We hope," Sam insisted with embarrassment.

"His last assistant was Bundy," Alex pointed out insistently. "And he's a full partner now."

"Yes, but—" Sam cut herself off, knowing there was no sense arguing the point. Alex was sure she was brilliant and heading places and was proud enough of her to brag about it. There was only one way to shut her up, and that was to change the subject.

Sam was trying to think of how to do that when Bricker helped her out by asking Jo, "And what do you do?"

"Oh." Jo smiled wryly. "I'm the underachiever in the family. I work in a bar."

Sam frowned at the self-deprecating claim and spoke up. "She's working her way through university getting a degree in marine biology. She's also just been promoted to manager of the bar, so she's no slouch either."

"It's no big deal," Jo insisted. "It's a small bar, a hole in the wall really. I only have a dozen or so people under me."

Sam wanted to argue the point with her, but could see she was embarrassed by the attention. Alex apparently wasn't as aware of it, however, and opened her mouth, no doubt to tell them that Jo was being self-deprecating, but Jo quickly asked the men, "What do you guys do?"

Her question was followed by a sudden silence that was almost electrifying as the men again exchanged glances. It was Bricker who blurted, "We're in a rock band."

Sam felt her jaw drop in surprise and then peered sharply at Mortimer as his fork slipped from his fingers and clanged on the side of his plate. If
her
mouth was hanging open, he was positively gaping at his friend. As was Decker, she noted, her eyebrows rising.

Bricker noted it as well, cleared his throat, and explained apologetically, "I wasn't supposed to tell. We were going to keep a low profile this week. You know. Avoid the whole fan, groupie thing and jus—awkk!" His words ended on a startled squawk as Mortimer suddenly stood, jerking him up out of his seat by the collar.

"Er…" Decker's gaze shifted from the women to Mortimer, who was marching Bricker across the deck. Setting his napkin on the table, he got up. "We'll just be a moment, ladies. Please go on with your meal."

"Well," Alex murmured as they watched the men form a huddle at the far end of the deck and begin to speak in hushed tones. "I think Bricker just tried to feed us a line of bull."

"I'm afraid I'd have to agree," Jo said on a disappointed little sigh. "I've heard a lot of guys spew bullshit lines at work trying to pick up girls and 'I'm in a rock-and-roll band' is definitely a bullshit line."

Sam bit her lip on a laugh as she took in Jo's despondent expression. She hadn't missed the way her little sister and Bricker had seemed to be doing a bit of bonding over the potatoes. Jo was obviously disappointed that he had turned out to be just another guy on the make.

"He could have at least come up with something a little more believable," Alex said with disgust, her gaze narrowing on the huddle of men. "I mean a rock-and-roll band? Like we'd believe that?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Mortimer growled the minute he'd dragged Bricker to the end of the deck.

"What?" Bricker asked, wide-eyed. "I was just—"

"A rock-and-roll band?" Mortimer snarled. "Dear God! Are you mad? Why not just tell them you're Santa Claus?"

"No, wait, listen," Bricker began, but Decker had joined them now and was no more impressed than Mortimer with the claim.

"I'm afraid I have to concur with Mortimer," Decker said dryly. "That was just asinine."

"No it's not," he argued quickly. "Chicks dig that sort of thing."

"Stupid ones who are gullible enough to believe it, maybe," Mortimer snapped. "But these women are neither stupid nor gullible. Haven't you been paying attention? Sam is a lawyer, for God's sake! And Alex is a restaurateur and Jo is working on a degree in marine biology. These are not stupid women likely to fall for some I'm-a-rock-star line."

"I'm afraid he's right," Decker concurred, glancing back toward the table they'd just left. "Right now they think it was a line."

"They do?" Bricker glanced back to the table with a frown.

"Yes." Decker was concentrating on the women, obviously reading them. "They're debating whether it's just you who's the twit, or we're all bald-faced lying assholes hoping to get laid."

"Oh man," Bricker muttered and then said accusingly, "Well, they wouldn't be thinking that if you two hadn't reacted like I'd announced we were Jack the Ripper wannabes. For Christ's sake! You're both older than me. You've had to lie to mortals about countless things for centuries. I would have expected you to be better able to carry this off."

"
You claimed we were in a rock band,"
Mortimer pointed out, as if that explained their inability to follow up the lie believably.

"Girls
like
that stuff," Bricker insisted. "They find it exciting. And it's not like I said we were band members in Nickelback or something. We don't have to be
successful
rock stars. And," he added grimly, "it saves having to come up with an individual lie for each of us."

He let them consider that for a moment and then added, "It wasn't like either of you were speaking up and coming out with something."

Another moment of silence passed, and then Mortimer said reluctantly, "We really should have considered cover stories before we came over tonight."

"Yes," Decker muttered, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"Look," Bricker said eagerly, seeing that his argument had a chance of winning. "I've had more experience with women. I know what they—" He stopped abruptly as the two older immortals turned cold-eyed scowls on him. Both of them were much older than Bricker.

"I mean, I have more
recent
experience with women," he corrected himself quickly. "You two stopped bothering with them a long time ago. I still… er… socialize."

Mortimer and Decker relaxed.

Releasing a sigh, Bricker went on, "We can tell them that we're a road band, an opening show for bigger bands. We've just got our first recording contract, spent months in the studio recording our first CD, and we're taking a break together up here before we go back on the road."

"Jesus," Mortimer breathed, staring at him with disbelief. "How often do you use this line?"

"All the time," he admitted airily. "And it never fails. Trust me."

Mortimer shook his head and glanced at Decker in question.

The immortal hesitated, but then grimaced and shrugged. "I suppose it might work."

"I suppose," Mortimer muttered reluctantly.

"And it would save us having to come up with alternate lies," Decker pointed out. "Besides, if we don't go with it and pull it off, we either have to erase the memory or they're going to keep thinking we're a bunch of lying losers."

"Losers?" Bricker echoed, glancing toward the women with dismay.

"If they're having trouble believing it, we can always slip into their thoughts and help out a little," Decker pointed out, ignoring him, and then glanced at Mortimer and offered, "I'll take Sam since you can't."

Mortimer nodded, but he was scowling. He now really didn't want Decker touching Sam's mind. His attitude toward the woman had changed since he'd learned her clumsiness was due to an ear infection. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized she was an intelligent, sharp-witted woman and the less he noticed that she was overly slender, lacking in a proper bosom, and befreckled. She was clever and amusing, and he was starting to like her a little. Mortimer wasn't ready to announce that she was definitely his life mate, but she was showing possibility, and as long as there was a possibility she might do for him, he didn't like anyone else messing with her.

"I'll take Jo."

Something about the eagerness in Bricker's voice made Mortimer turn his narrowed gaze on the man. "Can you read her?"

"Yes."

"Then don't mess with her romantically," Mortimer snapped.

"Oh, come on, Mortimer. She's cute. And I think she likes me. She—"

"She's Sam's sister. I'm not going to have her upset because you acted like a horndog."

"A horndog?" he echoed with amusement, and then, grinning, asked, "So you're willing to admit Sam is your life mate?"

"I didn't say that," he snapped. "But if it turns out she is—"

"Okay, okay," Bricker interrupted. "I won't take advantage of the situation."

Mortimer narrowed his eyes on the younger immortal for a moment and then nodded. "Okay."

"So." Bricker glanced at each of them. "We're in a rock band?"

Decker glanced at Mortimer. When he shrugged, Decker shrugged himself and said, "It would seem so."

"God help us," Mortimer muttered, turning back toward the table.

Chapter Five

"So you're telling us that you really
are
in a band?"

Sam asked dubiously, her gaze slipping away from Bricker to Mortimer. For some reason she was sure that he'd tell the truth here. Mortimer, however, was avoiding her gaze and concentrating studiously on his burger.