by Lisa Emme
“I think I may have to risk it, for the sake of curiosity. Plus, I wouldn’t want you to think I was a wuss.” He reached for the box and I playfully slapped his hand away. “Oi!” He laughed, cocking his head to give me a dirty look. Like a flash, he reached out and grabbed the half-eaten donut from my hand.
“Hey! That’s mine,” I complained, licking the icing from my fingers.
Jonah smiled and took a bite, chewing slowly. “Not bad, but I think I’ll stick to your delicious butter tarts.”
I snorted a laugh. “You think you’re sucking up to me, but the tarts are all Isaac.” I walked over to the sink and washed my hands, drying them on a towel and then tossing it to Jonah. “I wasn’t expecting you to pick me up. I was expecting Henry.”
“I thought you might prefer to arrive in something less conspicuous.” Tipping his wrist, he checked the time. “I suppose…”
“Yeah, I guess we should get going.” I heaved a sigh.
“You don’t seem very eager to go to your brother’s grand opening.”
“He’s not my brother.” I scowled at Jonah. “Salvador thinks he can make us into one big, happy family. A big dysfunctional family, maybe, but that doesn’t make Tomas my brother.”
“I see, then you and Tomas are not romantically involved either?”
“Eww, no.” I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed my disgust at the idea. Putting the donuts in the cupboard – just in case Tess popped by, I didn’t want her to eat them all on me – I stalked across the room to get my katana.
“You won’t be needing that, I should think,” Jonah said, eyeing the weapon. “I can assure your safety, if you’re concerned.”
I weighed the sword in my hands, thinking, and then with a shrug, hung it back on the wall. He was right, I probably wouldn’t need it. On the other hand, better safe than sorry. Crossing the room to the desk, I pulled open a drawer and fished around until I found what I was looking for – a four-and-a-half-inch steel, spear point, folding blade with black rubber-coated grip. I snapped open the blade and checked it for nicks and then with a nod, folded it up and popped it into my handbag as Jonah watched with a bemused smile.
“I like to be prepared,” I said with a shrug. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Jonah walked to the door, holding it open for me. “After you.”
The night air was cool, but I didn’t want to stop for a coat because then I’d have the hassle of checking it at the club. I ran down the stairs, pausing when I caught sight of Jonah’s car. It was a black Volvo, nothing special.
“You were expecting something else? Something flashier?” Jonah’s voice held a hint of amusement.
I continued down the stairs and stopped at the passenger door. “No, I don’t think so. I didn’t really think about it until now. This suits you.”
Jonah opened the door for me and I slipped inside. “I should probably be insulted,” he said with a smile, closing the door.
I waited for him to come around and slide behind the wheel. “No, you shouldn’t be. I meant it as a compliment. This is practical, but high-end. Relatively non-descript, so it blends in. Perfect for a hunter. You are a hunter, after all, aren’t you Mr. Law?”
“Buckle up, Miss Russo,” he replied, throwing the car into gear and peeling away from the parking lot in a spray of gravel. “Safety first.”
“So, I guess you aren’t going to tell me why you’re in town,” I said after fastening my seat belt and turning to look at him.
“You’ll have to ask your father.”
“But you are hunting someone, right? What did they do?
Jonah shrugged, unwilling to give me even that much information.
“Where did you fly in from?” I tried again, from a different angle.
“What makes you think I arrived by air?”
“Well, this is a rental and you don’t strike me as the bus type. I suppose you could have come in on the train, but again, that doesn’t seem likely.”
“I see your friend Tess isn’t the only aspiring detective,” he replied, demonstrating again that he knew a suspicious amount of information about me.
“You don’t have to be a detective to use simple logic.” Huffing out a breath, I turned to gaze out the window. “It’s not going to be much of a date – which it’s not, by the way, a date, I mean. I have a boyfriend. But it’s going to be pretty boring if you can’t even participate in a simple conversation.”
“Is that what this is? My mistake. I thought it was an interrogation.”
Rolling my eyes dramatically, I opened my bag, pulling out some lip gloss. After the donuts, I needed a touch up. I flipped down the visor mirror and smacked my lips, applying a new coat of Revlon’s ‘Super Natural’. When I spotted a familiar single headlight following behind us, I quickly closed the mirror, flipping the visor shut. I peeked at Jonah, but he didn’t appear to have noticed. Leaning over casually, I tried to get a better look at our tail in the side-view mirror.
“I see you’ve spotted our friend,” Jonah said, a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Uh, yeah. How long has he been following us?”
“We picked him up shortly after leaving your place. Someone you know, perhaps?”
“Probably. I doubt that we have anything to worry about.”
“Who said I was worried?”
***
We drove the rest of the way in silence. As we approached the warehouse that once housed Wishes and now the newly christened Dreams, a sense of dread settled over me.
“Everything all right?” Jonah, picking up on my discomfort, sounded concerned.
“I’m fine. I just don’t have the greatest track record with this place.” That was an understatement, considering that I was nearly killed on two separate occasions.
“No harm will come to you under my care,” Jonah replied and suddenly the car filled with a rush of power. I gasped as the energy wrapped around me, enveloping me in warmth. The power was all vampire, but not menacing. It felt safe and with it came a sense of calm. I turned to stare at Jonah in surprise. It was the first time I ever felt anything the least bit vampire off him.
Jonah cleared his throat, a look of consternation on his face. The power snapped back, disappearing instantly as if it had never appeared.
“What the hell was that?”
“I’m not sure,” Jonah said with a frown. “You seem to have a curious affect on my abilities.”
Before I could process that bit of information, Jonah pulled the car to a stop in front of the club. I blinked in surprise, I hadn’t even noticed we’d arrived. I stared at the warehouse. Once again it had experienced a massive transformation. Gone were the garish colours of Wishes. Instead, the building had been painted a dark gray-black with undertones of purple – a colour that reminded me of shadows. The front entrance had also been completely transformed by the addition of a set of massive, intricately carved wooden doors set into a stone archway.
Despite tonight’s opening being by invitation only, there was a crowd lined up outside the doors. Several burley men in dark suits lined the sidewalk in front of the building, acting as bouncers and security, and much to my dismay, the press was also out in full force with at least two of the local TV news crews in attendance. Tomas had pulled out all the stops, wanting to make the opening an event the city would be talking about for weeks.
The sound of a motorcycle roared up behind us and then came to a stop. Jonah had already jumped out of the car and was coming around to my door to help me out, but I scrambled to climb out on my own, ignoring his offered hand. Nash leaned against his bike, waiting.
“Excuse me a minute,” I said to Jonah. “There’s someone I need to talk to.”
“Cian,” Jonah said, tipping his chin in Nash’s direction.
I stepped back in surprise as Jonah held out a hand to Nash who grasped it and the two men clapped each other on the back.
“Jonah,” Nash said, leaning back again on his Harley.
�
��You two know each other?” I looked suspiciously from one man to the other.
“Yes, Cian and I go way back. We’ve worked on what, two, three cases?”
“Three,” Nash replied, matter-of-factly. “But I think you’re working on number four? That was you nosing around my crime scene, wasn’t it?”
Jonah grinned and gave Nash an evasive shrug.
“You didn’t think to mention this to me before?" I frowned at Jonah and then turned to Nash, taking in his clothes. He was wearing jeans and a dark Henley. “I gather you’re not staying.”
“I’ll give you two a minute, shall I?" Jonah clapped Nash on the shoulder. “Good to see you, mate.” He stepped over to deal with the parking valet.
I glanced around self-consciously, realizing that we were being watched by everyone waiting at the entrance of the club. Not exactly the time to get into it with Nash.
“So, I guess this means you got my message.”
“Yeah, sorry, I was–”
I put up my hand stopping him. “I don’t need to hear an excuse.”
“Harry, I really do have to go into work.” He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it.
“Then why are you here?”
“I just…” Nash shook his head. “I wanted to see you before I headed back for the night. The case is a triple homicide, norms. The killer, or more likely killers, are probably supes, preying on junkies.”
Forgetting my anger, I looked at him in concern. “I didn’t see anything about it in the papers or on the news.”
“We’re trying to keep it quiet for now.” He tipped his chin at the club. “This is helping. It’s a great diversion. The only thing the papers have been talking about for days.” He cracked a grin. “Except for the excitement over a bunch of cherry blossoms.”
Nash winked at me and despite the chasm I felt building between us, my heart did a little pitty-pat. I took a steadying breath. “Well, I guess I should be going in. The longer I linger out here the more likely the press are going to recognize me. I want to be inside and out of sight before Salvador rolls up and turns everything into a circus.”
“Good idea,” Nash replied. He reached for me, but I stepped back, turning towards the club.
“We’ll talk later?" I looked over my shoulder at him and he nodded.
Jonah stepped up beside me. “Ready, then?”
“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Let the fun begin,” he replied, offering me his arm. I stared at it for a moment and then wrapped my hand around the crook of his elbow.
Behind us, Nash’s motorcycle growled to life and then roared away.
“Miss! Miss!”
“This way, Miss! Over here!”
“Tell us your name!”
“Where’s Salvador? Have you dumped him?”
The crowd swarmed us, but Jonah wasn’t fazed, ploughing through the cameras and reporters, towing me behind him in his wake. He stopped at the door and the bouncer glanced at Jonah’s invite and then looked up at me. He was a vamp I recognized from Dante’s, although I couldn’t remember his name.
“There you go, Miss R–”
“Don’t say her name, you fool,” Jonah growled.
“Right. Sorry.” He gave me a shamefaced grin and pulled open one of the big heavy doors. Music, a thumping dance beat, flooded out of the club’s foyer. The impatient crowd behind us began shouting, eager to get a chance to get into the club.
“Yeah, fun,” I muttered as Jonah led me through the door. “I’m going to be splashed across the papers again tomorrow.”
“We’ll see about that,” was Jonah’s cryptic reply.
Chapter Thirteen
“So, who does everyone see when they look at us sitting here? I mean, I know they see me, but who do they think I’m sitting with?”
We were sitting at a table close to centre stage in the theatre section of the club. I had to admit, Tomas had done a fantastic job with the renovations (although he’d never hear it from me – his head is big enough as it is). I wouldn’t have recognized the space at all. Gone were the noisy slot machines and the dance floor with its strobe lights and pounding beat – although there was a casino area at the far side of the building, it was sectioned off by a glass wall that dampened the sound. Instead, the majority of the club was a lounge type theatre with a semi-circular stage and tiered seating made up of intimate booths for two or four. There was more of the shadowy grey colour here, as well as creams and beiges, and everything was plush and high-end. Tomas’s plan was to have different types of entertainment every night, including top-list singers and bands. He also planned on bringing in stand-up comedians for comedy night. It was an ambitious plan, but one more likely to succeed since he had an ace-in-the-hole in the form of daemon magic to help make things happen.
Jonah turned to me in surprise. “They see me, of course. I’m off duty.”
“They see you. The freakishly tall, ginger you?”
“Why yes, all fourteen stone of me, although I take issue with the freakishly tall label.”
“Dude, you’re what? Six-five? Six-six?”
“One hundred and ninety-six centimeters, I believe.” He sipped his drink – a gin and tonic – and grinned.
I bit my lip, thinking. “An inch is two and a half centimeters…so one-ninety-six divided by two-point-five is…freakishly tall.” What can I say? Math has never been my strong suit.
“Seventy-eight-point-four.” Tomas’s snarky answer came from behind me. “Divide by twelve then you get six and a half feet, give or take.”
“Like I said, freakishly tall.”
“Russo, looking edible as usual,” Tomas continued, giving me a once-over that would make a lecher proud.
“And you look like a pimp, as usual.” I eyed his suit. He was wearing a metallic grey, single-breasted tuxedo with a black satin shawl collar and metallic grey pants. His crisp white shirt was finished with a black satin bowtie and matching black pocket square.
He adjusted his sleeves, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Tomas, good to see you,” Jonah said, interrupting what was sure to be Tomas’s witty reply. Jonah remained seated, tipping his glass at our host. I couldn’t help but note that Jonah’s greeting was less enthusiastic than the one he gave Nash.
“Jonah, you grace us with your presence.” Brrr! You could feel the chill off Tomas’s reply.
Before the less-than-love-fest could go any further, a man approached Tomas, whispering in his ear. I sucked in a breath when I recognized him as Seth’s right-hand daemon henchman turned traitor, Mr. Zed. He glanced at me, his eyes growing wide as he took a step back, away from me. Interesting. Was he afraid of me?
I looked around the room. I had no idea how many of the serving staff were daemons. The skimpy white leather outfits were gone, replaced by long-sleeved, black button-front shirts with a vest over top and black pants or skirts. The only thing that stood out was that they all were wearing white gloves.
“What’s with the gloves?” I asked Tomas.
“All front-end staff wear them. We have a strict no-touching policy.” He nodded at Mr. Zed. “If you will excuse me, I’ve been informed that Salvador has arrived.” He turned away, but not before I caught an actual look of uncertainty on his face.
“Hey, Tomas,” I called out, halting his departure, “the place is fantastic. You did a great job.”
“Thanks, Russo,” he replied, his gratitude sounding genuine. He straightened his tie and grinned, bravado returning. “But what else would you expect?”
***
“That wasn’t at all what I expected.” I turned to Salvador. “Did you know what he had planned?”
After introducing Salvador and a few perfunctory speeches, Tomas had launched his new club with a forty-five minute plus, variety style show of which he was the M.C. and included a popular, local jazz singer, an up-and-coming pop band, and a well-known stand-up comedian.
“No, I did not. Very tight-lipped about his new vent
ure, was our Tomas.” Salvador looked rather pleased with himself as he sat back, sipping his thirty-year-old Macallan.
“Do you think it’s really safe, allowing the daemons to remain?" I narrowed my eyes at a passing server, but from a distance, it was impossible for me to tell if they were a daemon or not. There were as many norms working on staff as there were vampires and daemons. How Tomas planned on keeping the norms in the dark about any supernatural goings-on at the club was beyond me, but that was his problem, not mine.
“The daemons that remain are relatively harmless. Besides, if they misbehave, we will simply have you dispatch them, like you did Seth.”
I frowned at Salvador. “I didn’t dispatch him. He left. On his own accord, after nearly disemboweling me.”
Salvador shrugged in his annoying manner. “They don’t know that, Pequeña. They believe you drove him off, banishing him.”
Huh. No wonder they were all acting skittish around me. I was the daemons’ worst nightmare, scaring them all with the threat of returning to hell to face Seth.
Salvador downed his drink and rose from his seat. “If you will excuse me, I should mingle.” He wandered off, glad-handing the crowd, the majority of which were norms from the local business community, who stopped to greet him as he passed.
Jonah slid towards me on the upholstered seat, leaning in close. “Would you like another drink, or…?”
I glanced at my empty glass. I’d already had two of my usual Gran Patron tequilas. “I think I’m at my limit. Do you mind if we go? I’ve done my duty.”
Grinning, Jonah rose from the booth, offering a hand. “Certainly.”
Without thinking, I took his offered hand, instantly regretting it as an electrical shock travelled up my arm. I pulled my hand away from his and scowled. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“It’s not me, I thought it was you.” Jonah flexed his fingers, looking perplexed. “Perhaps it is our mutual attraction.”
“Our what? Listen, buddy, I have a boyfriend.”
“So you said,” Jonah replied, his voice amused.