by Dannika Dark
I slid my leather jacket over my lap and searched the pocket.
“Put your money away. I’ll take care of this,” Christian offered, setting his wallet on the table.
I pulled my hood over my head and tugged on the drawstrings. “Do you think they’ll really bring the baby?”
Christian studied the label on the ketchup bottle. “Assuming we win the auction, there’s a chance.”
“Depends on how much money he wants,” Claude pointed out. “Sometimes they set up a few fake transactions to collect money and then sell the baby later. That way they get more.”
“That’s risky,” I said. “Someone could show up and kill him.”
Christian set the bottle down. “Something tells me the Vampire back at his apartment was his lackey and delivered the goods. With him out of the picture, I’d be surprised if the Mage has a second right-hand man he would trust with such a task.”
I put on my fingerless gloves before sliding my arms through my jacket and zipping it up. “If he’s got the baby, where do you think it is?”
Christian scratched his cheek. “If he’s a professional, then he’s smart enough to keep incriminating evidence as far away as he can manage. He didn’t set up the bomb as a weapon; he wanted to destroy anything in that apartment that linked him to a crime.”
“Can I get you another milkshake before I end my shift?” Betty asked, offering Claude a warm smile. She’d liked him right from the start and even gave me a playful wink. I wondered what she thought of my parading all these men around her since joining Keystone.
“Three is my limit,” Claude replied.
“Next time try the banana shake.”
He tilted his head to the side and looked at her name tag. “Only if you make it, Betty.”
She laughed. “You betcha. Are you ready for the bill?”
I nodded, and she collected our plates.
“Nice lady,” Claude said, watching her return to the kitchen. “Humans are so eager to make people happy. You don’t see many older females waitressing where we live.”
“I don’t see many older women period,” I said.
Claude grinned. “You don’t come in the salon enough. Older Chitahs have no interest in hanging out in bars or dance clubs.”
Christian tugged on his beard. “Speaking of bars, I’d like to go back to Nine and find out who Raven’s little birdy is.”
“Birdy?” Claude’s eyebrows drew together.
“Aye. The one who told her where our Mage lives. If he knows that much, he might know more.”
“He was in your salon the night the woman was murdered,” I added. “Remember? Bleached hair, had the foil things in it.”
“Maybe. Clients come and go.” Claude put on his stylish leather jacket and stood up. “I’ll wait outside so I can warm up the car.”
When I got up to leave, Christian remained seated. I tapped my black fingernail on the table. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Give me a minute.”
As I slowly headed to the back door, I glimpsed Christian placing more hundreds on the table than I could count. Curious, I walked at a snail’s pace to the van, my eyes fixed on the window as Betty came into view and sat down in front of him. He leaned in a little and did all the talking.
“What’s that about?” Claude said from his rolled-down window.
“I don’t know.” I leaned against his red Porsche and hugged my body from the cold. “I wish I’d taken something from the Mage’s apartment for you to sniff. Can you really make a positive ID from a pillow or a sock?”
Claude’s lower canines grew in length and made him look like a tiger. His voice lowered an octave, rumbling in the back of his throat. “I own his scent. Do you know what that means to a Chitah? It’s burned in my memory forever. We imprint the ones we love and our enemies. That means we never forget.”
“But he’s not really your enemy.”
“Any male who slays a female is my enemy.”
We watched Christian emerge from the diner, his breath clouding the frosty air. Claude revved the engine of his red sports car and sped off.
“Change your mind on that pie?” I asked.
Christian approached the van and opened the door on the passenger side. Once I climbed in, I blocked the door to keep him from shutting it. “I changed my mind.”
He tilted his head to the side. “About?”
“Seeing my father. After witnessing Shepherd’s meltdown, I don’t want that to be me someday because I reopened a door to my past. It might make things worse, and I’m not sure if I could live with that.”
“Does it feel like the right thing to do?”
I swung my gaze back to the diner. I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I’d been so convinced that seeing my father would help me move on, but after watching one of the toughest guys in the house threaten to defy Viktor and lose everything he’d worked hard for, I began to wonder. What if seeing my father devastated me in ways I’d never recover from?
“I’m not sure what the right thing even means, Christian.”
“Then hold that favor in your pocket. Just don’t use it to make me take over your cooking rotation. I’m not a chef.”
I laughed. “I thought cooking potatoes was in the How to Be an Irishman manual.”
He stared vacantly at the diner and chewed on his bottom lip. “Betty won’t be giving me the evil eye anymore.”
My smile withered. “What do you mean?”
“I did what I should have done a long time ago. I scrubbed her past memories of me as best I could—of every time I could remember that we’d talked. Of every Irishman she’d ever spoken to so that my accent won’t trigger something in her mind.”
“Even today?”
“Only our private conversation we had just now, but not the dinner. That would be confusing if you mentioned me around her.” He chuckled and shook his head.
“That’s funny to you?”
Christian gripped the doorframe. “She thinks we’re an item.”
I blinked in surprise. “What did she say?”
“That she liked your Asian friend better. I still left her the thousand-dollar tip.”
He shut the door and slowly strolled around the van.
“You’re not such a bad guy after all. For a Vampire,” I said quietly.
Christian flicked a glance at me, but I didn’t look away. I’d meant for him to hear the compliment.
And he deserved to hear it.
Claude arrived at Nine Circles of Hell ahead of us and claimed a table in a private area of the main room. The vibe was different with rap and sexy dance songs playing. Women were misbehaving on the dance floor with their high heels, skintight dresses, and enough sexuality to set the club on fire. In the Breed world, people had no real concept of time. Many were wealthy and didn’t have jobs, and Vampires never slept.
I carefully studied every face I passed. Chitahs, Vampires, men with hair down to their waist, others with shaved heads. But none had the signature blond hair of my friend Chaos. Christian nodded for me to look in all the rooms, so I weaved through the crowd, staring at one unfamiliar face after another. One man tried to put his arm around me, and when I shoved him away, a Chitah took that as his cue to jump in and instigate a fight.
That was in the wrath room.
Men were less aggressive in the lust room, but one of them actually looked back and forth at my mismatched eyes and flinched before turning away.
Idiot.
“Well?” Claude asked, stretching his right arm across the empty space beside him in the booth.
I looked across the table at Christian, who mirrored Claude’s body language down to the amount of space he left for me to sit. “I didn’t see him.”
“Have a seat,” Christian offered, patting the back of the booth.
“I prefer to stand.”
Claude gestured to the open space next to him. “Come and sit, female. We might be waiting a long time.”
I put my hand
s in my coat pockets. “I know a bet when I see one, so if that’s what’s happening here, I want whatever you two wagered.”
When Christian rested his elbows on the table with a look of annoyance, I sat next to Claude.
“So what did I win?”
Claude locked his hands behind his neck, showing off his muscles. “The next beer is on us.”
“I’ll take a rain check. We need to stay sober until we hear from Viktor. Any news?”
Claude checked his phone messages. “Nothing yet.”
I looked at the long bar to my right, colored lights matching the theme splashed against the bottles and glasses along the back wall. Hooper was polishing a glass and talking to a man who wore a tribal tattoo on his right arm. When the man got up to leave, one of the waitresses winked at him as she briskly walked behind the bar to mix a drink. She swirled the glass in her hand, a red glow appearing from her fingertips and lighting up the glass.
“Why don’t they just spike the bottles of alcohol instead of each individual order?” I asked.
Christian followed the direction of my gaze. “Just imagine a row of bottles spiked by Sensors. You don’t think that would be tempting to thieves? One can only guess how much they’d go for on the black market. A bottle of wrath could make an otherwise sane man do terrible things. Imagine what it might do to a man who’s already insane. Imagine serving them to members of the higher authority at a banquet.”
“Okay, I see your point.” My gaze traveled across the room. “I see something interesting.”
“A plate of onion rings?”
I kicked him under the table. “No. But remember that woman our Mage was talking to before he ran off? Well, there she is.”
Claude craned his neck. “Are you sure it’s the same woman?”
“Pretty sure, unless blond hair with black bangs is the latest trend in your salon this season.”
“You slay me.”
When I rose from my seat, Christian snatched my arm. “You’re certain it’s her?”
I nodded.
He regarded Claude for a moment and discreetly pointed at his own eyes. Claude gave a curt nod and stood up, ambling over to the bar and turning to face the crowd.
Christian quickened his pace when the woman steered toward the dance floor. I fell back a few steps and let him take the reins.
“I’ve had enough of this nonsense,” he said to her, irritation in his voice.
The woman looked warily at him, as did I. That was certainly a way to get a woman’s attention, but not the route I would have chosen.
“I was sitting across the way and noticed you standing alone.” He looked at her with smoldering eyes and turned on the charm, his voice sticky-sweet. “I’ve not seen eyes that lovely in a hundred years.”
I snickered. “Do you say that affirmation to yourself in the mirror every morning?”
Christian heard me but was putting on a performance. He seemed quite adept at playing a role to get what he wanted in almost any given situation. He’d left his jacket in the car, and he had on one of those threadbare T-shirts with a wide V-neck that showed off his chest. He placed his hand on a pillar and leaned against it, forcing her to take notice of him.
“I’m not interested in a drink,” she said.
“A lovely lass such as yourself deserves more than a drink. What you need is a luxury car. That’s how I treat a lady.” As he spoke, it dawned on me that his eyes never looked away. He was drawing her under his spell but making the conversation appear innocuous to the crowd around us should anyone be listening. “Would you like to know what the inside of a Porsche feels like?”
She nodded, and that’s when I closed in on them.
Christian petted her cheek and slowly pulled her into his arms. “I’ll keep you warm. How do you feel?”
“I’m hungry,” she said.
As they moved toward the door, she remained under his influence. He looked away briefly to signal me to open the door for them, and once outside, he instructed her to follow him. Only then did he look away.
“We need to make this quick,” he said to me.
I peered over my shoulder at the woman following. Her puffy beige coat was unzipped, snowflakes sticking to her blouse. She looked like a pale-faced zombie with all that dark mascara and eyeliner.
When we reached the van, he opened up the back. “It’s warmer in here. Would you like to get warm?”
She took his hand and climbed into the back.
Once inside, Christian shut the back door and made her sit down on one of the benches along the side. He squatted in front of her to maintain eye contact, and I sat across from them.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Amber Warren.”
“Were you here a couple of nights ago?”
“The night of the sixteenth,” I added.
She nodded, her face expressionless.
“Do you remember talking to a Mage?” Christian asked. “Dark hair, a tattoo on the back of his neck, green eyes…”
She nodded adamantly. “Cristo.”
I jerked my neck back. “Crisco?”
Christian peered over at me. “Cristo. We’re not looking for cooking oil, unless you plan on baking brownies.”
“What kind of name is that?”
“Do I look like a fecking census taker?”
“He didn’t have an accent, and his name sounds foreign. That’s the only point I was making.”
“His Creator could have been Spanish. Now will you shut your gob and let me carry on?”
I gave him an impish grin. “Dazzle me.”
Christian faced Amber, his feathers ruffled. “Does Cristo have a last name?”
She shrugged.
“How do you know him?”
“He pays me to watch them,” she said in a monotone voice.
“Watch who?”
“The children.”
I jumped out of my seat and sat beside her. “Where’s the baby?”
She continued gazing into Christian’s obsidian eyes.
He narrowed them. “Has Cristo asked you to watch any babies in the past week?”
She nodded.
“Can you show me?”
Amber shook her head. “I don’t have him anymore. Cristo took him away this morning.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. The baby cried a lot. I’ve never taken care of a baby that little before. He always brings me kids.”
“Why would he trust her?” I asked Christian.
“It’s easier that way. Men like him prey on weak women. They distance themselves from the merchandise, and that baby would be a lottery ticket in the Bricks. And like I said before, it also keeps his hands clean if something goes wrong.”
I nudged the woman. “Where did he take the baby?”
Christian clucked his tongue. “It doesn’t usually work like that. Most of the time, they only listen to the one who’s charming them.” He patted Amber’s hand. “Can you tell me where they went or his phone number? Anything?”
She robotically shook her head. “He calls me. He goes to the club; that’s where we met. I left the baby alone the other night to find him and tell him I didn’t want to do this job. He got mad. Told me I needed to go back home and stay there until he called.”
Christian tugged on his earlobe, his gaze drifting off. “At least we have his name. Uncommon names make them easier to track.”
“Assuming it’s his real name.” I stood up and sat on the opposite bench.
“Did he pick up the baby in a car?” Christian asked. “Can you describe it?”
“White,” she quickly said. “I almost didn’t open the door when I saw it through the curtains. I don’t know anyone with a white car.”
“Was he alone?”
She shrugged.
“That’s good, Amber. I enjoyed our friendly conversation. Taking care of those children must have been frightening. Men like Cristo are dangerous, and they’ll creep into your house i
n the middle of the night and slit your throat.”
I kicked him in the ass. “Why are you scaring her?”
“You want to turn over a new leaf,” he continued, ignoring me. “What are you good at?”
“Sex.”
I belted out a laugh. “You two have fun. I’m just going to wait outside.”
“Stay right where you are. I want you to see this.”
“Why?”
He shifted around to look at me, the intensity in his gaze making the hairs on my neck stand on end. “Because you need to see with your own eyes what it’s like when I scrub memories.”
I swallowed hard. The idea that a Vampire could tiptoe around in someone’s head and erase things was disconcerting. I couldn’t imagine walking around with a piece of myself missing. But I knew why he wanted me to watch. This was what I was asking him to do to my father.
Christian locked eyes with Amber. “Remember when I first approached you in the bar? Do you recall the moment I spoke and when you looked up and saw my face?”
She nodded.
“That never happened,” he said, his voice smooth and suggestive. “We never spoke, and you’ve never seen the woman sitting behind me. You never walked outside in the snow to a black van and got inside. You never revealed any information about the baby or Cristo. When you walked away from the bar earlier, you sat down and watched people dancing. I’m going to take you to that table where you’ve been sitting for the past fifteen minutes. You’ll be warm, a little thirsty, and thinking about changing your life and getting a job. You’ve never seen my face before, and if you see it again, you won’t even notice me.”
I watched Christian get out of the van and lead her toward the front of the building. Then he stopped and whispered something in her ear, and she headed around the corner alone.
I shuddered.
A flurry of laughter erupted when four people abruptly rounded the corner and walked toward the parking lot. Christian casually propped his back against the wall, his head down. I rocked on my heels and pretended to look around as if waiting for someone. When the small group flashed toward two cars several rows down, I collected my thoughts about what we’d just discovered.