Page 31 of Property of Fire

“And?”

“I guess, I figured if you got a man, he’d be fuckin’ you so you wouldn’t be workin’ all the damn time.” He shrugs. “But yeah, we can get down to it.”

“Let’s sit down,” Brimstone orders.

All of us move to the table. Rather than letting me sit in a chair, Fire pulls me onto his lap, his mouth coming to my ear and murmurs for only me to hear. “Your little he-man remark bought you a spanking.”

Well, I guess he didn’t ignore it.

“What had you callin’ this meeting with us about the bar?” Brimstone asks.

“We’ve been having issues at one of our distilleries,” Scotch announces, raising a hand to stop anyone from speaking up. “It’s not y’all’s problem. Irish is there now looking into it, but we have another issue that is y’all’s problem.”

“And that is?” Brimstone grunts.

“There’s a rumor someone else is moving in with product that deals in certain specialties for different races, if you know what I mean. The rumor is that they’re starting in this area because the leader of the group has claimed a woman that fits Evelin’s description,” Scotch explains, leveling a look directed at me. “You know a Holstein Cisneros?

Oh no. No. No. No.

Shooting off Fire’s lap, I wrap my arms around myself and start pacing.

“What the fuck do you know about this bastard?” Fire demands, but his voice sounds far away to me.

All I can see in my mind is Holstein’s evil smirk on his face when he found me. It mixes with what I saw him doing that made me leave school.

“Not much other than the fact I know he’s a vamp hybrid who has grown his crew. And that he claims to typically get what he wants.”

I find myself drawn back into Fire’s arms. I hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t see him get up from his seat.

“What’s this have to do with you, though? Why bring it to us?” Flame demands.

“Because we’re allies. We look out for each other, and if you want in on a little secret, we agreed to the alliance and to distribute our shit to you all because of her.”

“You wanna explain that?” Brimstone demands tersely.

“How about you ask her mother?” Scotch suggests calmly. Far too calmly.

I jerk slightly and look at Scotch. “What does this have to do with my mom?”

Scotch lifts a hand, one finger pointed upward, pulls out his cell phone, and makes a call. He’s quick and brief. A moment later, he pulls the phone away from his ear. Then another minute passes, and my mother’s there.

“Mom,” I call her name, not in greeting but in frustration.

“Eve, my sweet girl,” Mom says, giving me a look that I don’t quite understand before she looks to Scotch. “You know better than to bring this up. Especially when I hadn’t even told my son.”

“They both deserve to know,” Scotch remarks.

“How about someone tell me something.” I’m sick of secrets. It seems I’m surrounded by them.

My mom straightens and turns to face me fully. “You know you were adopted, Evelin. I’ve told you this. What you don’t know is about your birth parents.”

“What about them?” I’d never thought about them. Not really.

“Your mother was?—”

“She was a bitch on steroids that ended up becoming a junkie in the end,” Scotch finishes for her.

“How do you know that?” I twist to look at him.

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