Page 128 of Taste of Blood
I feign innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You growled at him. Are you jealous?”
“Hardly,” I snort.
“You called me your lover.”
I look at him. “Well, was I lying?”
He stares at me, open-mouthed, until I lean over and tip my fingers under his chin. “Focus, Ash. Remember, we’ve got a job to do.”
He recovers himself and huffs out a breath. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
“I hope not,” I murmur as I resume walking toward the tables.
There’s a noise from the front of the room as a middle aged gentleman holds up a glass and taps a knife against it.
“If I could have your attention, please,” he says.
The room grows quiet as the assembled guests turn in his direction.
“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Pierre Dupont, president of the Arts Council. I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight and for your generosity toward this wonderful benefit. It’s a cause near and dear to my heart, as I’m sure it is yours as well.
“To that end, I’d like to extend a special welcome to our patron tonight, the man who organized this event and contributed a healthy donation to our coffers. I hope this is the beginning of a long and profitable relationship between us. With that said, allow me to introduce Howard Thalium.”
I freeze, breathless, as the man we’ve been scouring the city for steps forward and smiles at the crowd. Beside me I can feel Asher’s tension, mirroring my own.
“What the hell is this?” I say through gritted teeth.
“I don’t know,” Asher mutters.
My blood is pounding so loudly in my ears I don’t hear what he’s saying. It takes all my rapidly fraying control not to pull out my knife and toss it at his neck. I stare at him, certain that he can feel my eyes upon him. Look at me, you fucking piece of shit, I want to shout.
“So that’s the snake who’s fucking up my city,” a dark voice says behind me.
I turn to find Dante standing there with a blonde human woman on his arm. He nods to me and leans closer. “Have you had a chance to talk to him yet?”
I glance at Asher, who shrugs. “No. This is the first I’ve seen of him.”
“If I get him alone I’m going to slit his throat–after I force him to tell me what the hell he thinks he’s doing here.”
The eyes of the woman next to him widen at his statement, but she remains mute. I look around; I don’t see his bodyguards but I’m sure they’re here somewhere. The last person I expected to run into tonight is Dante, especially with everything he’s got going on right now. Did he know Thalium was going to be here?
Speaking of the weasel, he’s stopped talking and is moving into the crowd. Dante is laser-focused on him, so I lean over and whisper in Asher’s ear. “Did you know Dante was going to be here?” He meets my eyes and nods. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have come if I did?”
I hesitate, unsure how I want to answer that. Would I? It’s not like I’m avoiding him; I’ve just never been in a social setting with him before. He doesn’t seem particularly surprised to see me, which makes me wonder if he knew I was going to be here. I slant a look at Asher, but his expression is neutral.
I’m still mulling that over when a figure moves into my peripheral vision. I look up to find Thalium standing in front of me, though he’s focused on my boss.
“Dante Fantini?” he says, extending his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Dante stares at the offered hand for a moment before grasping it, his face composed, though I can see the fires of rage burning in his eyes. This should be interesting.
“And you are Howard Thalium,” Dante says. “Patron of the arts.”
Thalium gives an elegant shrug. “It’s one of many hobbies.”
