Suck It Up, Buttercup: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (First Fangs Club Book 2)

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Suck It Up, Buttercup: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (First Fangs Club Book 2) Page 8

by Kristen Painter


  The small hairs went up on the back of her neck. Using the Italian word for Mafia didn’t make it any easier to take. Her irritation was instant, and so was the change in her mood.

  The look of surprise on his face seemed artfully constructed. “You didn’t like that, if the glow of your eyes is any indication. If I offended, I didn’t mean to.”

  “If you offended?”

  “Poor word choice. Obviously, I did. My apologies.”

  Be that as it may, she was about to nip this in the bud. “To be crystal clear, I’m not Mafia or Mafioso, nor was I ever. Marrying a man who was didn’t make me so. To be even more transparent, I didn’t know what he was when I married him.”

  “I see.” But his eyes still held no remorse for his words.

  “No, I don’t think you do. The Villachi family and their criminal behavior disgust me, and it’s my sincere hope that they all pay for the terrible things they’ve done. I believe they will, Hawke, because I also believe that justice does eventually win. No matter who has to mete out that justice.”

  Fitzhugh stopped smirking. “Again, I apologize. And thank you for correcting me.” But his repentance was short-lived as he smiled again. “You see? This is how rumors begin. So easily. And with an unwitting misunderstanding. But I promise you won’t hear another mention of your Mafia connection from my lips.”

  Despite his promise, he’d used that word again. She stifled the urge to verbally assault him. Or physically. At this point, either one was an option. “Good. And yes, I understand how rumors begin. I also know they’re best dealt with immediately, which is why I gave you the background that I did.” She didn’t believe for a second that he’d spoken unwittingly. He’d deliberately said what he’d said to see how she’d react. She’d bet on it.

  Joe had always done that too. Dropped little bombs into a conversation to find the weak spots of the person he was speaking with.

  Fitzhugh was going to have to be more original.

  “I understand.” He nodded slowly, a new look of admiration creeping across his face. “I like you. You’re not afraid to say what you think, are you?”

  “Not most of the time, no. But then, you don’t survive twenty-seven years of my life by being a delicate flower.”

  “I suppose not.” He raised his finger. “Although you are named after one.”

  Like she’d never heard that before. “I’m pretty sure the Belladonna plant is more known for its deadly qualities than its pretty foliage.”

  “Is the same true of you?”

  “I guess you’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”

  “I will endeavor to remember that.”

  She smiled. She hoped he would. “Good. We should get along just fine, then.” She glanced at the time.

  “Am I keeping you?”

  “Not yet, but I do have another appointment this evening.”

  He nodded like he understood, but she was pretty certain whatever he was imagining, it wasn’t a meeting with the Russian mob about five million dollars. “You’ll be very busy these first few weeks, I’m sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Has anyone else come to see you?”

  “Considering this is pretty much my first official day as governor, no. You’re the first one.” He might think he was making himself seem important, but she just thought he was a suck-up.

  For the second or third time, he looked around the room. “I hope you got the arrangement I sent.”

  “I did.” She wasn’t going to tell him she’d had it put in the powder room. Let him wonder. “Is there anything else you want to discuss while we have this time? Anything you think I should know about governing this area? Words of wisdom? I’m open to talk about whatever you’d like.”

  He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Now that you mention it, there is. I’ve been thinking about putting on a grand event, something to bring in vampires from all over. Maybe even make it an annual thing if it goes off well.”

  “Oh? What kind of event?”

  He sat back, grinning like he’d just discovered fire. “A masquerade ball. Very grand and old school. The kind of ball that was commonplace in days gone by.”

  “That sounds interesting.” And like a lot of work. And expense. “What would the purpose of this event be?”

  “To bring our kind together. To have fun, of course, but also to encourage networking. We’re a rather solitary species, you know.”

  She’d heard that. “Where would this event take place?”

  “I could hold it at my estate. Or perhaps at one of the big hotels in the city. We’d co-sponsor, of course. I think it would be a grand way for you to introduce yourself as the new governor too.” He snapped his fingers. “In fact, that’s exactly what should happen. You would be the guest of honor. We can call it the Governor’s Ball.”

  She almost laughed. She was sure there was nothing sudden about his sudden idea. No doubt it had been his goal all along. As if she were that gullible. “So you’d pay for everything and do all the organizing?”

  He stared at her.

  When he didn’t instantly respond, she smiled sweetly and dug in deeper. “That is very kind of you. I’m truly honored. Have your admin reach out to mine about availability.”

  His brow furrowed. “I wasn’t… That is… No, we’d co-sponsor. We’d share the cost and the planning.”

  “In that case, I know a few places right here in New Jersey that would be happy to host a large event.”

  He frowned. “The city has better—”

  “No,” she cut him off. “Anything the city has, Jersey has too. If we’re co-sponsoring, and I’m the guest of honor, the event will be held in New Jersey. If you want to pay for the whole thing, I’d be happy to remain the guest of honor and allow you to have the event in New York. Otherwise, you can certainly host your own event anywhere you please.”

  He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to be searching for words. Finally, he found some. “I can be useful to you. You’ve been governor for what? Two days?”

  “Nope. Just to repeat, this is my first day, but thanks for listening.”

  His rant continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You can’t possibly know what you need to do, how to do it, who to contact, what friends you need to make. I can answer all of that for you. I can mentor you. But for me to do that, you need to meet me halfway.”

  “I’m good.”

  His expression held total disbelief. “How can you possibly think that?”

  With a smile, she stood so that she was gazing down on him. “Sharks are born swimming, Governor Fitzhugh. I’ll be fine.”

  He closed his mouth, looking very frustrated.

  She was done with the conversation and felt very much like it was time to end the meeting. “Thank you for coming. It was nice to meet you face-to-face. Let me know what you decide about the masquerade ball, will you?”

  His frustration remained, but he got to his feet. “Belladonna, I don’t think you understand the opportunity an event like this could be for you. A chance to network with the upper crust of vampire society. That would be very good for your future.”

  “Future?” She wondered if her amusement showed in her eyes. “I don’t think we look at being governor the same way, Hawke. I see this as a chance to do some good. Not as a stepping-stone to bigger and better things.”

  He looked incredulous. “You’re telling me you don’t want to be queen?”

  “Artemis’s position? Oh my, no. Not even remotely.” Then, just because she could, Donna decided to status-drop. “I would never do that to my grandsire.”

  “Artemis is your—”

  “Grandsire. Isn’t that what you call it? She was Claudette’s sire, and Claudette was my sire, so—I thought you knew that.”

  He swallowed. “I assumed that was a rumor.”

  “Nope. That part’s true.” Apparently, he hadn’t talked to Claudette in a while either. She checked the time. Now she really did n
eed to get moving. But the talk about rumors had gotten her a little wound up and feeling frisky. Might as well leave him with something to talk about. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the head of the Russian Mafia.”

  Once again, he had no words.

  She almost laughed.

  “You have a safe ride home, now.” She patted his arm, then with a bright smile, she stepped around him and left the room.

  She was shaking just the tiniest bit from the rush of adrenaline. She’d met with the infamous Hawke Fitzhugh and come out on top. At least she felt like she’d come out on top.

  When she walked down the hall into the kitchen and saw Charlie, Temo, and Pierce grinning wildly, she knew she’d done what she’d set out to do.

  She’d held her own against Fitzhugh.

  Charlie seemed to be barely keeping from laughing. “I’ll just go see Governor Fitzhugh out.”

  “Thanks.”

  No one said a word, but Temo’s and Pierce’s expressions said they were bursting to talk. Finally, they heard the door close, and Charlie came back in a few moments later.

  She shook her head. “That was some meeting. Good for you!”

  “You think he’s mad?” Donna asked.

  “Not mad, no,” Charlie said. “Probably more stunned that his charm and good looks didn’t get him anywhere. He didn’t say a word on the way out, which is not his style.” She giggled. “Poor Hawke.”

  Temo put his hands on the counter. “Way to go, boss.”

  “Thanks.” She was feeling pretty good. Which was a nice way to head off to meet the Russians.

  “Are you ready for me to pull the car around?” Temo asked.

  “Yes.” She looked at Pierce. “We should go, right?”

  “If we’re still picking Neo up, then yes.”

  “We are.”

  Temo headed for the door. “Give me five minutes.”

  “You got it,” Pierce said before glancing at Donna. “You did great with Fitzhugh. You’re going to do great with the Russians.”

  “I hope you’re right. The stakes are a little higher. After all, my life wasn’t in danger with Fitzhugh. Whereas with the Russians…”

  “I understand,” Pierce said. “But I don’t think they’ll risk hurting you. After all, they don’t want to start a war with the Villachis.”

  “You’re assuming me being hurt would have that outcome. Frankly, I’m not so sure Big Tony wouldn’t call it a favor.” She frowned. “I know Lucinda would.”

  “That might be so, but the Russians don’t know that, so for now you have the upper hand with them.” He smiled at her. “Don’t forget who you are now. What you’re capable of. Plus, you’ll have Temo and Neo there, a powerful backup team if ever there was one.”

  “True. Very true. I still forget sometimes that I have this whole new skill set. Thanks for the reminder.”

  “One more reminder. You need to feed. And by feeding me in return, I’ll be a much more useful part of that team.”

  “You’re right.” She pushed up her sleeve. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Ten

  After picking Neo up, Temo parked in a twenty-four-hour garage a block away from Pravda. Valet parking would have been more convenient, but if something went wrong, none of them wanted to rely on someone to bring the car around.

  This way, they also had a place to rendezvous if the meeting turned sour.

  They all got out of the SUV and gathered beside it.

  Temo tugged his suit coat into place. “How you want to do this, boss? Me and Neo in back, you and Pierce up front?”

  Donna nodded. “I think that’s good. But we need an escape plan too. If things go bad, Temo, you and Pierce get out and get the car. Neo and I will fight our way out and meet up with you somewhere.”

  “Boss,” Temo started, “you realize that might cause some rumors. Two women taking down the Russian mob? They don’t know you’re both vampires.”

  She grinned. “I guess they’ll get a fast lesson in woman power, then.” She glanced around. “I don’t know this area very well. Where can we meet up?”

  “Rigby’s Pub is about five blocks away,” Neo said. “We could meet them there.”

  “Good. Temo, you got that? Rigby’s.”

  “Got it.” He nodded.

  Donna rubbed her hands together. “Any other suggestions?”

  Neo smiled at Temo. “Good with me.” She held out her fist to him. “We got this.”

  He bumped his fist against hers. “Yeah, we do.”

  Donna didn’t need any kind of supernatural power to see that Neo was crushing on Temo, who seemed to be crushing right back. It was pretty cute.

  But Neo had brought her A game, fashion-wise. All in black, naturally. Skintight leather leggings tucked into combat boots, topped with a snug little jacket buttoned up to allow just a hint of lace bra to peek out. Her braids were pulled back into the fauxhawk style she favored, and the purple strands had been changed to deep burgundy.

  Donna really liked that because it matched her own shoes and nails and made them look like a posse. Just thinking the word posse made her feel like a boss. And a posse wasn’t something she’d even known she’d wanted, until now.

  Pierce glanced at her. “Let me do the talking until we get into the meeting. They’ll be watching us every step of the way, I’m sure. The more aloof and mysterious you seem, the more edge you’ll have.”

  “You think?” Donna asked.

  Neo nodded. “Def. Good idea, Pierce. You look sharp tonight, by the way.” She winked at Temo. “You too.”

  Pierce smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for accompanying us. You are the perfect addition to our party.”

  Donna snickered. “If the mutual admiration society is done meeting, maybe we could get going?”

  They all laughed and started walking.

  As they approached the club, Donna’s smile faded. She was all business now. Serious and focused. A quick look around showed her the others had switched to that mood too. They looked like an intimidating group. She really hoped the Russians thought so, anyway.

  They approached the line to get in. Pierce held out a hand, indicating they should wait. As they came to a stop, he broke away and went to speak directly to the doorman.

  A few words and the man nodded.

  Pierce waved them over.

  The doorman unhooked the velvet rope and gestured to another doorman. In they went, following the first guy.

  Pravda’s interior seemed to be an homage to old-school Russia. The hammer and sickle were everywhere, as were pictures of Putin, Lenin, and Stalin. Bottles of what was probably very expensive vodka were prominently displayed. Red was the predominant color. The floor was concrete, but the seating was mostly velvet and leather.

  Beams of light caught the manufactured fog coming off the dance floor, turning the laser show into something vaguely sci-fi. The music was pure European house with the kind of pumping bass and reedy electronics that seemed to run on a loop. The people on the dance floor moved like a swarm of mindless insects.

  The club looked about as she’d expected.

  They passed through the main areas to an elevator guarded by a bouncer. Total lunk material in a suit. He reminded her of Yuri, the one she’d accidentally drained to death on her living room floor.

  The doorman spoke to the bouncer. He nodded and ran a keycard through a reader. The elevator doors opened.

  Pierce took a quick look inside, then nodded that it was all clear and let Donna go ahead of him. He started to walk in next.

  The bouncer stuck his arm out. “Just her.”

  Donna stepped out of the car, pushing the man’s arm out of the way as she did. She kept her sunglasses on. “They come with me, or I leave. Do you want to explain that to Mr. Reznikov?”

  “Mr. Reznikov gave me those instructions.”

  Donna stared at him for a long time without saying a word. Did the glamour thing work through sunglasses? Probably not. She hadn�
��t actually learned how to do that yet anyway. Plus Claudette had said it took practice.

  The man wore an earpiece, which made her remember what Pierce had said about them being watched the whole time. This elevator would definitely be under surveillance.

  She looked up, scanning the ceiling for the camera. She found it and stared right at it, then she drew her hand across her throat. She glanced back at the bouncer guarding the lift. “You can tell Reznikov those instructions just cost him five million dollars.”

  She walked away. Pierce fell into step next to her. “Nicely played. We won’t get to the door.”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  They were right. Not even ten yards away, a new man stepped into their path. He looked more like an executive than a lunk. He smiled at her as he smoothed his tie. “Mrs. Barrone, I am so sorry for the misunderstanding. I am Dimitri. Please, allow me to escort you upstairs.”

  “Did you miss the reason I’m leaving?”

  He flattened his hand against his chest. “My apologies. I meant you and your party.”

  She tipped her head ever so slightly and narrowed her eyes. Not that he could see them. She waited to answer long enough that his smile wavered a bit. “Fine. Lead the way.”

  He ushered them to a different elevator, away from the crowds. He swiped his keycard through the reader, and the doors opened. He held out his hand. “After you, Mrs. Barrone.”

  She got on, then Pierce, then Dimitri, then Neo and Temo. There wasn’t much personal space left in the car. She looked at the others to see how they were doing. Temo had his big-trouble face on, which almost made her laugh.

  Thankfully, she held it together as they rode up. A moment later, the doors opened again.

  The upstairs was much quieter, but the bass downstairs thumped like drums portending war. She touched her crucifix, hidden under her suit jacket, and prayed war wasn’t what she was walking into.

  Dimitri walked ahead. “Right this way.”

  They followed him to a set of double doors. He opened them to reveal a very large office filled with very large men.

  One of them sat on a throne behind an ornate desk. Boris. Clearly.

  Besides the desk and chair, a small bar was on one side, along with a pool table, two other smaller tables, and a scattering of chairs. On the wall opposite the bar were three flat-screens. One was showing a Russian station. Another was playing a James Bond movie. The third was tuned in to a telenovela. All three had the sound on softly so that they all kind of blended into white noise.

 

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