Page 18 of Claimed
“Are we back to species titles, now?” I ask. “I can hardly go around at a dark market auction referencing you as ‘angel’, now can I?”
“Fine,” he swallows like it hurts, “Caine.”
My shocked gasp is downright Oscar worthy. “You do know my name.”
He scowls.
“Would you prefer codenames?” I ask, letting him hear how exciting that concept would be. “You could be Feathers and I’ll go by Hellraiser.”
“Isn’t that a human movie?”
My eyes widen before I can stop them. “You know it?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m fallen, Caine. Not blind.” He turns his head to gaze out the window. “And if you call me Feathers, I’ll run you through with my sword.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” I muse. “I have not seen your overly manly weapon since we arrived. What ever did you do with it?”
“It’s at the hotel.” His tone says he won’t discuss the topic further.
“Youarearmed, correct?”
He looks at me and opens his suit jacket. I catch sight of a shoulder harness and a matte .40 under his arm.
“Are you expecting to need something that powerful?”
“Are you willing to risk me leaving it in the car?”
My head cants. “Good point.”
The car slows as we round a narrow curve with a moonlit waterway on one side and overgrown brush on the other.
Amber streetlights illuminate a long warehouse nestled in the shadows of the deserted inlet. Numerous cars already wait before two open bay doors. Distant humanoid shapes move inside under bright lights, and I eye the line to get inside.
“We may be fashionably late,” I mutter and peer at Horan.
His amber eyes are fierce as he takes in the crowd of people. “So it would seem.”
I motion the driver to pull closer to the door for us to get out.
Horan walks around to my side of the car and opens my door as we planned. I slip from the dim interior and the driver moves off to wait in the event we need him.
Several heads turn our way as we near.
I catch sight of a few rough looking vamps, a group of shifters in suits as expensive as mine, and too many humans to count. The press of their separate scents is tangible, as are their desires.
Horan walks one step behind me, his presence familiar.
I know what an imposing pair we make. He screams avenging angel and I just look like I could make you scream. My lips curve and the motion garners a few more glances our way.
A male at the door closest steps in our path. Clad in all black, he is just missing a large sign over his head saying ‘security’. “Invite?” he asks.
Horan produces the card from his inside pocket, being sure to flash the gun on his person. It’s a silent threat. A warning. He passes the invite over and the man motions us past.
Inside the warehouse, the steady whir of large fans drowns out much of the noise. The drone of conversation. We make our way to a less packed corner of the room. I am careful not to lean against the wall. But I keep my bored facade in place as Horan excels greatly at looking menacing.
The room fills even more as we wait, and soon my boredom is no longer fake.
My lips part to nettle the angel merely for something to do when a slight commotion at the doors draws my attention.
