Page 117 of Blood Stone
Chapter Twenty-Five
Garrett tapped the window behind the cab driver’s head. “Just pull in there,” he told him, fishing out a fifty dollar note and pushing it through the grill.
Winter yawned and stretched and reached for the door handle. As the only one who really needed human amounts of sleep, she suffered the most for the nocturnal habits of the rest of them.
“What was the room again?” she asked as Garrett stepped out and shut the door.
“The Eckhorn Suite.” He looked up at the hotel. It was a small, non-franchise, exclusive hotel that businessmen might use who knew L.A. well enough to know it was here and were willing to pay for the luxury. He suspected it got by on word of mouth alone. Reputation was everything in the business world. The doorman was already straightening up, paying attention. He wondered if he would be recognized and if that would be an issue tonight.
“I’m slipping into asshole businessman role, Winter,” he murmured.
“Aren’t you always there?” she asked as they walked under the portico into the well-lit area where the glass doors and gleaming brass planters framed the carpet.
His laugh caught even him by surprise.
Winter grinned.
The doorman nodded and opened the door for them. “Mr. Garrett,” he murmured as he opened the door. “A pleasure to have you visit us here tonight.”
Garrett nodded back. So, he’d been recognized. Ah, well.
“Next time I’ll see if I can arrange a more reasonable flight,” Winter told him. “This really is ridiculous. And the luggage, too!”
Garrett played along. “Let’s just get some shut eye and sort it out tomorrow. David should be here by now.”
That gave them the excuse to by-pass the check-in and go straight to the elevators.
He spotted the elevator bank and angled toward it. “You’re very good at extemporizing, for one so young,” he told her, as they waited for a car.
“Sebastian and I used to do it for a living.”
“Doing what?”
“We stole things.” She grinned at him.
“You were good at it, then?”
The elevator chimed and they stepped in. Garrett pressed the top floor button.
“We were never caught. I suppose that defines good. We quit when…well, that’s a long story for another night.”
The elevator rose smoothly and swiftly and deposited them at the top floor. It was silent and muffled there, but as they stepped out, one half of a double-doored suite entrance opened and Sebastian emerged. “I heard the elevator chime. I thought it would be you. We’re waiting.” He beckoned. “Winter, I’ve made coffee.”
“My hero,” she told him. Her pace quickened.
Garrett followed her into the suite.
“Watch your step,” Sebastian murmured as Garrett passed him. When Garrett looked at him, startled, Sebastian raised a brow just enough to add emphasis to his warning.
Garrett didn’t respond. But the warning had been sufficient to put him on alert. He quartered the room with his gaze. To the human eye, it looked like a peaceful, elegant late night after-dinner party. Winter was at the sideboard, pouring herself a coffee from a silver urn. There was a low lamp spreading yellow light across the board and over the group of chairs and a low pair of sofas with tapestried upholstery that made up the rest of the room’s furniture.
A woman sat on one of the sofas, leaning against the arm. She sharply reminded Garret of a 1940’s or ‘50s film star – all glowing beauty and classic style. She would have given Ingrid Bergman a run for her money, if she had been blonde. It was that sort of bone-deep grace that breathed out through the pores. But her pores didn’t work. The only people in the room who weren’t vampire, Garrett estimated, were Sebastian and Winter, judging by their heat signatures, and they weren’t precisely human, either.
From the body language of everyone else in the room and from the way they were focused, the woman was the power holder.
Garrett quickly tabled the rest. There was one other stranger. Tall, dark haired, with a chin-strap beard. He looked to the woman, then.
Nial sat on the chair directly opposite the woman. In defense, or was he opposing her?
