Page 93 of Princess Claimed

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

I do know. I also knew what he was asking back at the airport. I didn’t acknowledge it then, why the fuck would I now?

“I miss her too.” Bending one leg, Crusher rests the sole of his boot on the wall as he leans back against it. “Ana…” He shakes his head. “She’s affected me too. Because of her, I broke parts of our code, and I sat back and watched you three break even more parts.” Angst wafts off him. “But she makes me feel?—”

“Pull it together!” I say sharply. “You sound like a teenaged girl.”

Lifting his head, Crusher smirks. “What would you know about teenaged girls?”

“I’ve seen movies.” I chuckle deep in my chest. “Shit. Both of us are fucking mess.” I’m about to crack a joke about teenage girls and vampire movies, but realize he’s no longer focused on me.

Crusher pushes off the wall, his expression changing.

A female vampire is approaching. Tall and curvy, she’s dressed in a deep purple pant suit, with her long blonde hair tied in a ponytail near the top of her head, bouncing from side to side as she walks.

“Elsbeth,” Crusher says. “Thanks for meeting us.”

“There’s a bar down the street,” she says under her breath as she passes. “O’Malley’s. Meet me there.”

Crusher and I exchange a quizzical look, and then give her a head start before following.

“What the fuck?” I say once she’s well past us.

Crusher shrugs. “Security cameras?” He gestures toward the building.

No shit. But why the fuck didn’t she just text Crusher the bar’s location then?

We walk the three blocks to O’Malley’s, and my chest tightens as we walk in. Not only is this place packed with humans, many of the humans are fucking cops, some with racks of wooden stakes strapped to their backs. Off duty police can’t carry weapons designed to kill humans—certainly not while they’re drinking—but visible weapons meant to kill us? Very much not a problem.

I grab Crusher’s arm. “Is this an ambush?”

Crusher shakes his head, but also shrugs, as if he’s not sure. I scan the space, grateful that my excess height lets me tower above the crowd to get a bird’s eye view.

A few heads turn, but the ones lingering are mostly females showing sexual interest. A few of the cops eye us up too, but none grabs a stake. Crusher and I look threatening, vampire or not.

Crusher spots Elsbeth at a booth near the back, and we weave through the crowd, then slide into the tight space. Crusher sits beside her, where he can keep an eye on the patrons and front door, and I plant myself across from her. This way I can keep an eye on her, and also have a view to the hall leading to the toilets and presumably some kind of back door.

“Why not text Crusher this location?” I ask before fully sitting.

She lifts her phone. “Syndicate phone. It’s bad enough that I answered your first text.”

Crusher nods, clearly buying her explanation. Not sure I do.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Fear fills her expression, and dread tightens my belly.

“The body. It’s gone.”

“What body?” Crusher asks, but it’s fucking obvious. Every part of me joins my belly in a tight clench.

“Rasputin’s,” she whispers. “Or the demon’s. Whatever that thing was that you staked.” She glances at me. “It vanished.”

Crusher frowns. “Vanished? How?”

She shakes her head. “That dagger’s gone too.”

Crusher runs his hand through his hair in that way he does when he’s thinking. “You must have security cameras.”

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