Page 63 of Taste of Blood
“Well, would you look at that,” Zeke chuckles. “Gotcha, motherfuckers.”
One of the men punches a code into the keypad and pulls the side door open, pushing the sobbing women inside.
I look over at Zeke. “Looks like we got our proof.”
Eli’s voice comes over the comms. “They were vamps.”
“Good enough for me,” Zeke says, then calls out to Gio. “How do you want to handle this?”
“We still don’t know how many are inside,” Gio replies. He’s quiet for a minute, then continues. “Eli, Snipes, you two stay on the roof. The rest of you head back to the warehouse. If we’re going to take these fuckers, we need to be armed to the teeth.”
Finally, some action.
22: Asher
EVER SINCE I got home from the office, I’ve felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth until I’m ready to climb the walls.
I can’t stop thinking about what’s happening with Cord.
Is he all right? Did they act on the information Elaine provided? Was the intel accurate?
The not knowing is driving me crazy. I pick up my phone and start to text him a half dozen times and delete it. Whatever he’s doing, it requires his total concentration. I don’t want to be a distraction.
That doesn’t mean I want to sit on my hands and worry all night. I consider going by Lupercalia instead of ordering in, something to take my mind off the situation, but what if Cord shows up here needing help?
No, I can’t live my life that way. I’ll go to the den, feed, and maybe have a drink at the bar. It’ll do me good to be out among people. If Cord needs me, he has my number.
I hail a cab out front rather than bother Benjimen. While it’s true he lives in an apartment I provide in the building, I don’t want him to feel like he’s at my beck and call. I already keep him late enough at the office.
Lupercalia is busy for a Wednesday night, with a line of clients waiting to be served. I give Esmerelda my name and take a seat in one of the chaises to wait and people watch. I recognize many of the faces who come and go, some from business andsome from various charitable events I’ve attended over the years. One of them, Bethany Parker, or whatever last name she’s using these days, walks over to me and extends her hand.
“Asher, we haven’t seen you around much lately.”
I ignore the obvious prompt to kiss her hand and offer a terse smile. Bethany is a shark with an angel’s face. A ruthless gold digger who’s always working on her next score. She collects human husbands like some people change shoes, all of them rich with one foot in the grave. All of them so smitten with her attention that they’re willing to sign over their fortunes to her. If she aids in their demise, there’s never any evidence implicating her. It always looks like natural causes. And while the Guild frowns upon such behavior, there’s no actual rule against marrying humans. As they see it, humans die.
She once had her sights set on me after my business became successful, until she learned I don’t swing that way. Now she acts as though we share some sort of blood bond.
“Bethany. Whose life are you ruining tonight?”
She laughs, the sound as fake as her smile. “You’re always such a delight. As if you have any room to talk.”
“At least I’m upfront with my cannibalistic tendencies.”
She pretends to be shocked. “Is your excuse being male, or a businessman?”
“Now, now. If you want to bring gender into this, let’s talk about how you’ve slept your way to your fortune.”
Her eyes grow cold despite her plastic smile. “Charming, as always.”
Esmerelda calls my name, thankfully ending this exhausting exchange.
“Enjoy your evening, Bethany,” I murmur as I stand and brush past her.
“You looked like you could use rescuing,” Esmerelda whispers to me as she points me in the direction of my alcove.
“It was all in hand,” I assure her. “But thanks for the concern.”
She frowns. “I really don’t like that woman.”
