I explored the rest of the arcade while I waited. There were video games and pinball machines bearing images I didn’t recognize, most likely television shows that had been popular before the Plague. I was tempted by the basketball hoops—my dad and I would sometimes fashion our own version of a ball and basket in the wilderness. I liked to win even when it was a friendly game of H-O-R-S-E. He’d say I must’ve inherited my mother’s competitive side because I certainly didn’t get it from him.
Footsteps thudded behind me. “Saxon?” I whirled around and found myself confronted by two very tall and very broad vampires in matching black suits. One sported a shaggy mustache that seemed incongruous on an otherwise smooth face. “I’m sorry. There seems to have been a mistake. I ordered my vampires in a medium.”
They weren’t amused. “You’re to come with us,” Mr. Mustache said.
“I don’t think so. I’m here with a friend whose ass I’m about to kick in skee-ball.”
“Saxon has been detained,” the smooth-faced vampire said.
Not a case of mistaken identity then. “Did Ingemar send you?” I asked. “Because we’re old friends now.”
Mr. Mustache grabbed my arm. “No more questions.”
“Hey!” I tried to wrench my arm free.
“Stop squirming,” Mr. Smooth scolded me. “No one’s here to hurt you.”
“You expect me to believe that? You’re taking me by force and won’t tell me where we’re going.”
“If you promise not to run, we’ll release our grip,” Mr. Mustache said. “We’re under orders to bring you unharmed.”
“Whose orders?” I demanded.
Mr. Smooth jerked his head in the direction of a looming casino. “You’re on Opulentia turf. Whose do you think?”
What on earth would Kingsley Bryant want with me? As tempted as I was to use magic to escape, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to go along voluntarily. What if Kingsley knew something about my father’s killer? It was worth the risk of a conversation.
“You swear Saxon’s okay?” I asked.
“The hybrid will recover quickly,” Mr. Mustache said. “We took him by surprise.”
They led me through a busy entrance and up a grand escalator to an elevator bank. “What? No private entrance? I’m disappointed, fellas. Salt even has a rooftop entrance. Good thing I’m spending my hard-earned money there.”
“We have a rooftop bar,” Mr. Mustache shot back and was promptly shushed by his colleague.
We arrived at an open doorway where they thrust me into the room and slammed the door closed behind me. A fluffy white dog zipped out from behind a gold lacquered desk and ran over to me, a high-pitched bark corresponding to each dainty step.
I crouched down to pet her. “You must be Sweetie.”
“Good guess,” a silky voice said.
My view started at the three-inch gold stiletto heels and traveled up two bare, perfectly shaped legs, until I reached the hem of a black romper. The top half was smocked and strapless, revealing a tanned chest and collarbone. Dirty blond hair swept up on the sides and hoop earrings completed the look.
I resumed a standing position and offered my hand. “You must be Kingsley Bryant.”
Her tawny eyes registered surprise but she shook my hand all the same. “You’re astute for a girl from the middle of nowhere.” She released my hand and beckoned Sweetie.
“There really is a gossip train that runs through the city. And here I thought it was metaphorical.”
She shrugged her toned shoulders. “I’m nosy. I heard there was a new girl in town and I wanted to check out the competition.”
Competition? For what? “I’m not sure I understand.”
Kingsley slowly circled me, appearing to inspect every visible inch of me. “She does like them youthful.”
“Who?” And for what purpose?
Kingsley returned to the front of me and smiled. Her fangs reminded me of Oren’s, but instead of diamonds, hers were encrusted with red gemstones, probably rubies. “Do you like margaritas?”
Was this a test? “Yes.”
“Thought so.” She clasped my hand and tugged. “Come with me. My bartenders make the best margaritas on the whole coast.” Sweetie barked happily and trundled along beside us.
“I was with a friend,” I said. “He’ll be looking for me.”
“Saxon.” Kingsley flipped her hair back and heaved a dreamy sigh. “Brooding and handsome, if you go for that sort of thing.”
“You don’t?”
She tightened her grip on my hand and yanked me closer. “I like mine caliente and full of sparks.” She winked and let me go, striding forward like she was on the catwalk of a fashion show. It was hard to believe this was Ingemar’s main competition. She seemed more like a former cheerleader who’d inherited the family business.
We took an elevator to the top floor and, every room we walked through, crowds parted to make way for Kingsley and Sweetie—and me. She snapped her fingers as we passed the hostess stand of the rooftop bar called Cloudscape. Kingsley chose a small round table with the best view of the ocean. Unfortunately there was already a couple enjoying their drinks in that very spot. I lingered behind her, wary of what Kingsley might do.
“Good afternoon.” Her tone was as cheerful as her smile and the couple seemed perfectly at ease as they returned her greeting. “And how are you enjoying my bar?”
“It’s amazing,” the woman said. Although her fangs were small, I caught a glimpse of them as she spoke. So there’d be no compelling them to leave. That would’ve been the easy way.
“It really is. This happens to be my favorite table in the whole bar.” She splayed her hands on its surface. “But someone forgot to put a reserved sign on it. Again.” She craned her neck to flash an accusing look at the hostess, who was now standing beside me with two cocktail menus in her trembling hands.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Bryant,” the hostess said. She was already close to tears.
Kingsley twisted toward us and eyed the hostess. “Come closer, Piper.”
The woman at the table must’ve sensed the tension because she scraped back her chair and stood. “It’s okay. We’re happy to move to another table.”
Kingsley ignored her. “I asked you to come closer, Piper.”
Piper’s entire body was shaking now; her helplessness rolled off her like the waves below. I grabbed the menus and stepped between them.
“I don’t mean to be impatient, but I’d really like that margarita now,” I said. “Otherwise, we might miss the chance to get acquainted.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Saxon had likely returned to HQ to let them know I was missing. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what happened to me in the arcade on Kingsley’s turf.
Kingsley’s catlike eyes shifted from the object of her ire to me. “You’re a brave one.”
“More like a thirsty one. The air is pretty dry today.”
“Piper, we’d like two watermelon margaritas.” She glanced at me. “Salt or sugar?”
“Salt,” I said.
By the time she turned back to the table, the couple had disappeared. I’d watched them slink off, of course, and hoped they managed to get away before Kingsley remembered they were there.
The moment she perched on the chair and took in the view, her shoulders relaxed. Apparently the vampire crime boss wasn’t so different from the rest of us. Kingsley rested her chin on her knuckles and turned her focus to me. “Tell me about yourself, pretty girl.”
I watched Sweetie as she ran around the floor of the bar and sucked up crumbs like a fluffy vacuum. “My name is Callie Wendell. I’m here for a visit.”
“A visit?” She laughed. “Do you always get a job when you visit a place?”
Was there anything the vampire didn’t know? “I didn’t come here with that in mind. It just kind of happened.”
“You must’ve impressed them. They don’t seek out any old supernatural that wanders into town. We get hundreds of those
a day.”
A server returned with our drinks and I was relieved to see it wasn’t Piper. Smartest thing the hostess probably did all day.
“Yummy.” Kingsley took the glass from the tray with both hands and took a long sip. “The. Best.” She observed me in anticipation as the server set the glass in front of me. “Go on. Taste it and tell me what you think.”
“I’m no expert, so I’m sure it’ll be great.” Her tawny eyes stayed fixed on me so I made a show of raising the glass to my lips and taking a healthy swallow. Great Goddess. It really was amazing. There was no way to hide that kind of unexpected ecstasy.
“Thought so.” Kingsley leaned back in her chair, satisfied. “What kind of stuff do they have you doing? You don’t have to tell me specifics. I know that’s a no-no. Just give me the big picture.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral. What did she hope to gain by asking me that? Did she think the Pride was investigating her?
“Training and exercise,” I said vaguely.
She seemed to like that answer. “Do tell. Squats? You look like you do a lot of those.”
Um, okay. “I’ve spent most of my life hiking, so squats were a natural part of that. I’ve never had to exercise in a gym or anything.”
“Their gym is incredible,” she said. “Best of the best.”
“You’ve been in there?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I’ve heard.”
A seagull appeared on the ledge next to the table. A look of disgust marred Kingsley’s smooth features. “Get away, you filthy beast. Ugh. I thought I had that mage do a seagull protection spell.”
The bird held fast to the ledge and opened its beak. “Kingsley, be a dear and send Miss Wendell back where she belongs. I’ll only ask nicely this once.”
I nearly fell backward off my chair at the sound of Abra’s voice emanating from the bird’s beak. Kingsley, on the other hand, took the talking seagull in stride. “We’re having a nice chat. Is that a crime? If so, tell Natasha to come and arrest me herself. If memory serves, she likes to use handcuffs.”
I sucked down another mouthful of the margarita, sensing that I’d have to leave the rest of it behind and not feeling great about that outcome. The drink was mind-altering and not just because of the tequila.
“Miss Wendell, are you safe?” the seagull asked.
I nodded vigorously, my mouth too full of margarita to speak.
“See? She’s fine. Better than fine, in fact. She’s having one of my mind-blowing margaritas.”
The seagull regarded me. “Finish your mind-blowing beverage and then return to the boardwalk. Saxon’s waiting for you by the fountain.” The seagull flew off.
“Don’t you dare poop on my casino,” Kingsley yelled after the bird. She twisted back to her drink. “I wouldn’t put it past that old witch.”
“Not a fan of Abra?”
“More like she’s not a fan of me.” Kingsley toyed with a hoop earring. “Not that I care. She always treated me like I was the gum on the heel of her comfortable and wholly unattractive shoe.”
“You’ve known her for a long time?”
“Longer than I care to.” She drank more margarita. “She never thought I’d amount to much, which makes my success that much sweeter.”
I finished my drink and was tempted to lick the rim of the glass so as not to miss a single drop. I’d have to come back another time without Kingsley so I could truly enjoy it. The vampire’s carefree exterior had a definite undercurrent of deadly psychosis.
Kingsley hopped of her chair. “This was fun. We should do it again sometime.”
“Sure,” I said, non-committal.
“Be sure to tell Natasha what delightful company I am,” Kingsley said.
It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out those two had a history.
“I will.” Before I could vacate the table, another set of wings appeared at the ledge, except this pair carried one gorgeous hybrid.
Kingsley rolled her eyes. “You tell Abra this is a violation of our agreement.”
“I believe kidnapping one of our guests also qualifies as a breach of the agreement,” Saxon said. He hovered just beyond the rooftop. “Come on, Callie. I’ll fly you down.”
“I thought I was supposed to meet you on the boardwalk.”
“I got bored waiting.”
I peered at him. “How does this work? Am I supposed to ride you like a horse?”
Kingsley burst into laughter. “An apt analogy if rumors are to be believed.”
Saxon scowled at her. “I can carry you in my arms.”
“Aw. Like a baby.” Kingsley pretended to cradle an infant.
I climbed onto the ledge and looked down at the boardwalk below. Heights didn’t bother me after spending a lifetime in the mountains. He scooped me into his arms and lifted me into the air.
“Sayonara, bitches,” Kingsley called with a friendly wave.
“Thank you,” I said. “I could’ve left without help though.”
“Don’t underestimate Kingsley. She may look like a Miss America contestant, but there’s a reason she’s the head of the Opulentia family.”
We landed further along the boardwalk where I noticed Abra lingering in front of the entrance to body piercing. Saxon flexed his wings and I regained my bearings.
“I guess you couldn’t carry me down in seagull form, huh?” I asked.
The witch didn’t crack a smile. “That was an unfortunate encounter.”
“She was fine. She only did it for Natasha’s attention, I think.”
My remark prompted a vague smile from Abra. “Insightful.”
“Not really. She must’ve mentioned her ten times in the span of twenty minutes.”
Saxon stifled a laugh as Abra stopped in front of the cart selling roasted chestnuts and handed the man a few coins in exchange for a bag. “I didn’t come to fetch you purely for your sake. We have a matter that requires our attention and we’d like to include you. The briefing begins in fifteen minutes.” She offered me the bag. “Chestnuts?”
“No thanks.”
Saxon reached into the bag and scooped out a handful. “A new lead?”
“Seems so, yes.”
“I could’ve just flown us back to HQ,” Saxon said.
“You can now. I only wanted to stop for chestnuts first. We all have our vices.” Abra popped one into her mouth and it occurred to me that maybe the older witch wasn’t as cold as I first thought.
A few minutes later we entered the conference room and I was pleased to see a platter full of snacks on the table. I was in need of food after downing that margarita at lightning speed.
“Kingsley sends her regards,” I said, when my gaze landed on Natasha.
The vampire didn’t react. “What was she wearing? Don’t tell me—it was that muumuu that looks straight out of Matronly Vampires Monthly.”
“Not a muumuu,” I said. It was probably wishful thinking on Natasha’s part because I couldn’t picture Kingsley in that kind of outfit at all.
“It was a little black one-piece number,” Saxon said. “The gold heels were a nice touch. Too flashy for my taste, but she wears it well.”
I shot him a dirty look. Was he trying to torture Natasha?
“And what’s your taste, Saxon?” Natasha asked. “Denim shorts and a halter top?”
“That’d be a nice start,” he said.
“Braids or a ponytail?” Natasha asked.
“Hair down,” he said.
“That sounds very specific,” I said.
Natasha winked at me. “He likes ‘em fresh-faced, like farmer’s daughters. Not that we disagree on that one.”
Fresh-faced farm girls? I thought of my black hair and the bright pink stripe and knew that I didn’t remotely fit the criteria. I pushed the thought aside, reminding myself that it didn’t matter what Saxon’s preference was.
The rest of the inner circle entered the conference room and the folder in Abra’s hand told me we were
about to start. I shoved a piece of bagel into my mouth without bothering to smother it in jam. The bagel was so good that I had no regrets.
“A situation has arisen in Nevada and we believe it’s connected to our demon,” Abra said. She opened the folder on the table.
“Please say Las Vegas,” Liam said, his hands folded in mock prayer.
“It isn’t Vegas,” Natasha said.
Liam groaned in protest.
“We’ve received word that a town called Bones Crossing was recently found abandoned,” Abra said.
“Maybe because the residents finally woke up and realized they lived in a place called Bones Crossing,” Liam muttered.
“The buildings have been boarded up with no trace of the residents,” Abra continued.
“More importantly, a reliable source spotted our friend Rex at a train station ninety miles from there yesterday,” Emil said.
“You think the children were taken by train to the desert?” Saxon asked.
“We haven’t been able to track the children from the warehouse,” Purvis said. “Right now, we’re thinking that Rex is collecting more children and found them in Bones Crossing.”
“Then why is the whole town gone?” Tate asked. “Why not just the kids?”
Abra gave her a pointed look. “We’re hoping you’ll be able to answer that when you return from Bones Crossing.”
My stomach plummeted at the thought of more innocent children being taken. “Didn’t someone say you have satellite offices? Why not send agents from a closer location?”
“Not all locations are equipped for all missions,” Abra said. “As the headquarters, we send agents from here to deal with any higher-level threats.”
“Because we’re the best,” Liam said and promptly shoveled half a bagel into his mouth.
“The best at being a disgusting pig,” Tate added.
Liam responded with something unintelligible thanks to a full mouth.
“What makes this a higher-level threat?” I asked. “The fact that there are so many kidnap victims?”
“No, the fact that Supai is one of the deadly monsters that escaped during the Plague.” Abra gestured toward a blank screen. “That makes any potential leads a priority.”
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