The bartender said something and nodded at the back of the building towards the private dance rooms, and the rear exit. Reza took off at a fast clip.
Shit.
The bartender had seen Janette pass that way seconds earlier, with her suitcase. Aaron caught it all from the bartender’s mind and decided it was time to get involved.
Urvashi grabbed Aaron’s arm. “Don’t. Leave it be.” She was always siphoning off his emotions, using their bond to intuit his thoughts, even when he tried to block her out of his mind.
Though he knew it was foolish, he couldn’t leave it be. His actions had put Janette in danger. It was on his shoulders. Just like Michael Jamison was his responsibility.
He slid Urvashi’s hand from his arm and pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll be back in few minutes. Have another lap dance while you wait.”
He took off, walking as fast as he could without attracting too much of the wrong kind of attention. Vampires move unnaturally fast. People notice that kind of thing.
In the dark recesses of the back rooms, he headed for the red exit sign, moving at a full jog now. Out the door and into the freezing wet, graffiti-covered alley, he found them both. Reza had pinned Janette by the throat against a slimy brick wall, her suitcase lying in the dirty slush. He reached behind him for the knife tucked in his belt.
“Twasn’t me, I swear!” She choked out the words. Mascara ran down her face in dirty streaks, and her wool coat was open, exposing naked breasts. In her rush to escape, she hadn’t even dressed properly.
“Lying bitch!” He was an inch from shoving that blade between her legs when Aaron snatched his forearm in a wicked, clawed grip.
Aaron’s talons punctured through jacket and into fleshy muscle. “You should have taken the money,” Aaron growled as he wrenched Reza’s arm away from Janette, twisting up and back at the wrong angle.
“Fucking wanker!” Reza cried out at the crunchy, gristle-snapping sound of his dislocated shoulder, and the knife fell from is hand.
Aaron pivoted and tossed Reza across the alley to land in a cussing grunt of pain. He turned back to Janette who was staring at him, jaw agape. “Get your bag and go. Stay the hell out of Soho. Better yet, get out of London.”
Whimpering in relief, shocked, terrified, she did exactly as he ordered, scooping her bag off the snowy street. She backed up slowly, her fear now redirected to Aaron.
Stupid woman. “Go already!”
With a startled jump she took off running. She didn’t even try to make the wheels of her suitcase work, dragging the hard, red case as fast as her three inch plastic heels would allow in the snow-rutted, uneven brick surface. Finally.
“You can run bitch, but I’ll find ya!” Reza regained his feet, but his right arm dangled uselessly. He squinted at Aaron in pain and fury. “You nancy bastard, don’t you know who I am?” He felt his shoulder gingerly, trying to figure out why his arm wasn’t working right. “Keljmendi clan, and you’re right royal fucked.”
“I don’t give a shit who you are.” Aaron considered what to do with him. He was tired of killing. He had more than his fill of killing in Las Vegas and New York.
Reza reached into his jacket with his good arm, going for his cell phone. He fully intended to have somebody inside the strip club grab the women and Ivan. “You’re already dead, and your women will be sold to fat Italians with small cocks and big bank accounts.”
Aaron snarled. “You’re too stupid for your own good.” In a flash of movement, he smashed through Reza’s jaw, snapping his head back. The man flew across the alley, cracked the back of his skull on the brick wall and crumpled in a heap in the slush. If Reza lived, he’d be eating ice cream and apple sauce through a straw for weeks.
Didn’t even need a kung-fu kick.
* * * *
Chapter 8
With a two handed grip, Aaron wrenched the locking mechanism and yanked open the back door to the club. When Reza had gone for his cell phone, his thoughts revealed an alarming situation. This entire city block was under the control of the Keljmendi clan. Every business within a kilometer answered to the clan.
{{Time to go. Now.}} Aaron projected directly into Urvashi’s mind. He wanted them out the front door before he made it to the bar.
Passing from the shadows into the lighted bar, the bartender’s sharp gaze never left him. The man glared at Aaron for a moment then glanced back to the exit.
Michelle, Katya, Urvashi and Ivan were already making their way to the front door. At the entrance, a burly, six-foot male wearing a black “security” t-shirt, his scowling face scarred from chin to eyebrow, caught a signal from the bartender. He grabbed another hulking giant wearing a t-shirt emblazoned “No Blood-No Foul” then stepped up to block Ivan.
Scarface grumbled, “Boss says ya gotta stay. Not done yet.”
“Boys, this does not end well.” Ivan’s meaty knuckles cracked as his fists balled up tight.
Aaron joined them and slid between Urvashi and Michelle to the front, facing the guards directly. “We brought a private party.” He gestured towards Michelle, Katya, and Urvashi. “Much better than the girls here.”
Aaron caught the thoughts of the bartender advancing behind them with a solid baseball bat slapping his palm. Aaron nodded to Ivan. “Behind us.”
Ivan turned to face the bartender, his hands up in surrender. “We don’t want trouble. Just looking for a good time.”
Aaron winked at Michelle and flashed left. His fist crushed the guard’s nose into a bloody pancake. The guy went down and stayed down. “Guess that qualifies as a foul.”
Michelle snorted, and a split-second later, slashed to the right, carving bloody lines across the other guard’s face with her wicked talons. The man screamed until Katya’s boot to the groin lifted him off his feet and sent him staggering back, only to fall to his knees in agony.
Urvashi grinned like a kid in a candy store, enjoying the show. “We should do this more often.”
Aaron turned to watch Ivan intercept the inept swing of the bartender’s bat. Ivan snatched the bat away and spun it in a high arc, right down onto the bartender’s receding hairline. The crack of wooden bat on skull echoed across the strip club as men yelled and women screamed. Everyone moved as far away from Ivan as they could get.
The bartender dropped like a sack of potatoes. Ivan chuckled. “This is a good time. Now, I am having fun.”
“Will you stop playing? Let’s go.” Katya pulled on Ivan’s jacket and steered him past the guards on the floor to follow Aaron and Michelle out the front door.
“We need to leave Soho, now.” Aaron led them out of the Brewer Street alleys, and back to the line of taxis.
They piled into a waiting taxi and Michelle snapped at the driver. “A hundred pounds to get us out of Soho in five minutes. To the Knightsbridge Hotel.”
The driver grinned. “That’s a job I can do. Best get your money ready.”
Ivan complained. “Why leave so soon? I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
“This cockup got us bagged.” Katya thumbed towards Aaron in the front seat beside Michelle. “Had to go and save the stupid stripper.”
Katya had a funny look on her face. Her words rang with annoyance, but her aura revealed something else, a hint of mirth. Then she smiled. “Who’d have thought a leech could be so bloody gallant?”
Aaron grinned lopsided. “If you knew what he planned to do to her, you’d have been out in that alley with me.”
“I know the type, all bad, all channels, twenty-four-seven. Pure bollocks and cuss and spit. Only thing worse is an arrogant Russian.” She winked at Ivan who chuckled low, almost a growl.
Michelle broke the spell of camaraderie when she licked the blood off her fingertips and spoke directly to Katya. “Aaron is much stronger and faster than I. And you know what I can do.” She kissed Aaron on the cheek.
Ivan and Katya shutdown, like a switch had been flipped. No more smiles and snickers. The momentary illusion of friends
hip dissipated. They rode in uncomfortable silence the rest of the way.
At the hotel, they all stepped out of the cab, and Aaron reached out to shake Ivan’s hand. He smiled, just a big happy Russian, no more killer Ivan.
“We had fun tonight. I’ll buy you a drink.”
Aaron smirked. “I like my drinks hot and fresh.” He looked pointedly at Katya. “I bet she has an exotic flavor.”
“Un huh! Keep your chompers away from me! No way on God’s green earth would I ever allow you near me.”
He stepped up closer. “You’re probably right, I can smell …”
“Don’t you dare say it!” She was in his face. An inch from his nose, her fists curled up.
“I was going to say coconut shampoo.” He grinned wide, tempted to steal a kiss while she was so close.
“Twenty for one bite.” Ivan grinned mischievously at Katya.
“God, you’re a cheap pimp.” She rolled her eyes at him.
Aaron turned to Michelle. “What do you think she tastes like?” He licked his lips.
He couldn’t stop himself from teasing Katya. She reminded him so much of Anastasia, especially when she smiled.
Michelle wrinkled her nose. “Chien mouillé.” Wet dog.
Katya snorted with her upper lip in snarl. “I’d just as soon watch you starve to death.” Her eyes grew cold, and he caught a hint of her malice leaking past the wall blocking her mind. She had some intensely personal reason for hating vampires, something recent. “You have your leech.” She flicked her nose at Michelle. “And Urvashi is certainly friendly. You don’t need me.”
As though on cue, Urvashi slicked her hand down over Aaron’s crotch. “I think he would rather taste wolf tonight.”
Ivan put his arm around Katya and squeezed her shoulders in a brotherly hug. “Okay. No biting tonight. It’s unsanitary.” Ivan winked at Aaron.
If Aaron didn’t know better, he’d think Ivan actually liked him.
“But I am still drinking Vodka.” Ivan pointed at Aaron. “We need to talk about what you learned.”
This is what Aaron had been afraid of. They were now stuck with the two wet dogs to the finish of this manhunt. He shivered, looked down at the slushy sidewalk, and glanced towards the warm, cozy hotel. “Room 440. Get your vodka and meet us there.”
* * * *
Chapter 9
“No matter what they say, the wolves are not friends.” Michelle pulled Aaron into the bathroom, holding his face in her hands. In moments like these he was reminded of her age. Physically, she appeared in her late twenties, but Michelle had a century under her belt, and a lot of hard lessons learned.
She whispered so Urvashi couldn’t hear. “And they are too friendly with Urvashi. They cannot be trusted.”
“I know what happened with the wolves during the war. You shared that with me. But I don’t think Ivan and Katya are enemies. In time, we can learn to trust them. Give them a chance to earn our trust.”
“They almost killed me. Is not a joke, Aaron. They would have eaten me.”
Aaron shivered with the vivid memory of Michelle’s fight with the pack. Michelle’s bloody, clawed hands glistening in the moonlight. Huge, oversized beasts with gnashing teeth, tearing at her from different directions. Her inhuman screams of rage as Michelle tore through Katya’s brother Andrei with her bare hands. It amazed Aaron to this day, the things Michelle did in France during the war, the horrors she survived.
“I am not an idiot, Michelle. Have faith in me. I won’t allow them to hurt you.”
“I take care of myself. Is you I worry about. You are too young, too naive. Never turn your back on them. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
A knock at the suite door announced Ivan and Katya’s arrival. Aaron and Michelle strolled out of the bathroom together as Urvashi seated the wolves on the pastel, puke-green living room couch.
Ivan wasted no time cracking the seal on his fresh bottle of Stolichnaya, red label. The strong vapors of vodka wafted through the room as he poured an over-sized shot glass full to the rim and downed it with a doggy shake of his head afterwards.
“O! Yob tvoiu mat’!” Aaron didn’t understand a word, but Ivan conveyed the suggestion that this is good shit.
Katya grinned at the big man and snatched the glass off the table. “Let me have some before you finish it.” She poured the same measure, tipped her head and tossed it back in one hit. She grimaced at the burn, but looked like she enjoyed it.
Urvashi’s cell phone went off, a melodic sitar musical ring tone, something straight out of India. “Oui.” She listened for a moment and waved at Aaron, speaking directly into his mind. {{I must take this call, privately.}} She left the suite for the hallway.
Ivan watched Urvashi go. He grabbed the shot glass away from Katya and refilled it. “So tell us about Reza. What are his dirty secrets?” Without waiting for an answer, he emptied another shot.
Aaron looked to Michelle, who nodded slightly. “I only caught a few quick snatches from him. Enough to know he is deeply involved in the black market dealings of the Keljmendi clan.”
Ivan and Katya both whistled together. Katya stole the shot glass, poured it to the rim, and knocked it down in one.
Ivan grinned at Aaron, shaking his head. “You have a talent for finding problems. You might think these men cannot get to you, but you don’t know where they come from. You don’t understand how the Albanians deal with vendettas.”
Aaron narrowed his eyes. “I am done with them. I got what I needed. Reza didn’t know much of anything. He saw Mike Jamison with a blonde woman, and I was able to catch a brief glimpse of her face in his mind. That’s all he knew.”
“You may be done with the Albanians, but are they done with you?”
Michelle growled her two cents. “If they become a problem, we will handle it.” Michelle liked getting her hands dirty in the entrails of her enemies after slashing their guts open. She had always enjoyed slaughter a little too much for Aaron’s comfort.
“Da. I remember. She is a wicked woman, no?” Ivan smiled at Aaron.
Aaron pulled Michelle close, an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her on the nose. “Yes. But I like her that way.” He smiled back.
Katya snorted at Aaron and stared with pointed distrust at Michelle. “Go on thinking with the wrong head. Get yourself killed. Vampires are not known for compassion. Most of them kill their masters or vice versa.”
Ivan stole the shot glass back from Katya, refilled it, and downed another shot. “I think with both heads, and I am still here, all in good working order.” He adjusted his crotch as Aaron laughed and the ladies rolled their eyes simultaneously.
Aaron studied the wolves. They were not really together. They struck him more as brother-sister, or coworkers, comrades. Aaron looked directly at Katya, letting her absorb the full effect of his gaze.
His words drilled into her along with his unblinking eyes. “I appreciate your concern, it’s touching.” She smiled, almost pleased, and then shook her head, ridding herself of his spell. Aaron found her resistance endearing. “But Michelle and I are not bound as master and servant, not anymore.”
Katya frowned slightly. The wheels turned in her head. “You choose to be together?”
Aaron nodded at the same time as Michelle, while her hand stroked his thigh affectionately.
Michelle licked her lips as her hand slid up and down Aaron’s leg. “Is like the love stories you read about. Très magnifique. Very romantic.”
The way she teased him with her gentle strokes, he could have bent her over the couch right there, audience and all.
“Beautiful, I am sure. Romance and slaughter.” Ivan sounded curt, less casual than normal. “What’s next? How do we find this leech, Mike, and the woman in the limousine?”
“I don’t have a clue.” Aaron shrugged and sat back.
“We have learned nothing.” Ivan poured another shot and tossed it back, his bottle half gone already. “A waste of time.
”
Aaron nodded in resignation at the dead end. Michelle patted his knee. “When Jamison kills the woman, and he will kill her, we can follow the trail again.”
Ivan grunted but Katya stared wide-eyed at Michelle like she was insane. “We are trying to find him before he kills her. Fucking vampires have no respect for life.” Katya shook her head.
Michelle glared at Katya. “Michael Jamison cannot hide forever. I will find him.”
Aaron sensed something beneath Michelle’s resolve, a deep seated need for vengeance. Jamison had taken something from her. She lost her hold over Aaron when she died, however briefly, and she considered that a debt. Michael Jamison would repay Michelle’s loss with his life.
* * * *
Chapter 10
Michael Jamison’s cell phone vibrated atop the bedroom nightstand with an incoming call.
“Answer it please! It’s been going off all bloody day.” Laura curled up against Mike’s chest, her hands sliding under the bedcovers towards his crotch as he reached for the phone.
Mike groaned and hit the send button. “Hello.”
“About time you answered. Been callin’ nonstop.”
Laura’s hand found what she was looking for and started stroking him.
“Sorry, I’m a night owl. Who is this and what do you want?” Mike wanted off the phone. Now. Laura had tugged and pulled him to a full size erection in seconds. Since Paris, it seemed he could sport an erection almost on command.
“Don’t care if you’re a bloody raven, I got problems. Your friend Reza, you know the one who sold you a … package? He works for me. He’s all busted up, now. A Russian and a Yank blasted my boys lookin’ for you. We need to talk, now.”
“A Russian and an American, together?” Laura kissed his belly button and slipped down under the blanket to lick the head of his cock with teasing laps of her tongue.
The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) Page 5