Page 56 of Don't Bait Me (Nora Jacobs 3)

Of course the assassin wants to go to Skinny’s. It’s the dive to beat all dives. The food is great, and it sounds wonderful, but I’ve got a more pressing matter than my hunger. “I need to go home. I’m sure my clan is worried sick. Terrance is probably tearing apart the city looking for me.”

Illren pulls a phone from his pocket, punches in the code, and hands it to me. “I’m sure none of your men are home right now, so there’s no point in going there. Call Terrance and let him know you’re safe. He’s in my contacts.”

I quickly dial Terrance’s number. “Terrance!”

“Nora! Where are you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, T-man. I’m not hurt. Illren Kovros found me, and I’m safe.”

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

I have to pull the phone away from my ear because he’s shouting so loud. “We’re on our way to Skinny’s. I need to get something in my stomach.”

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Yes. I’m okay. I promise.”

Terrance lets out a loud breath. “Okay, good.” His voice turns hard again, and he says, “What happened? Who took you?”

He’s definitely pissed, and a pissed off troll is not a good thing. “If I tell you, are you going to start killing people?”

Terrance’s response is immediate and certain. “Yes.”

Like with Illren before, I’m tempted to just tell Terrance who took me and let the chips fall, but I don’t need Henry’s death on my hands. I’m not so vindictive that I really wish people dead. I only fantasize about it sometimes.

I have to calm him down before he goes into a rage and starts killing everyone in his path. I let out a long sigh and softly say, “Terrance, please calm down. I know you’re upset, but I don’t want you to get in trouble for killing anyone. I’m fine, completely safe. Oliver was in more danger than me.”

“Yes, and whoever left him to freeze to death will pay. No one attacks my clan and gets away with it.”

Illren holds out a hand to me, silently asking for the phone. I hand it over, and in his calm, deadly voice he tells Terrance, “The men who attacked Nora and Oliver are dead. They were hired mercenaries, and they only lived long enough to tell me who hired them.” He pauses. I can’t hear what Terrance is saying to him, but I can imagine when Illren nods and says, “They suffered. If you’d like to see for yourself what is left, I can give you the address. Trust me, any other mercenaries from here to Chicago will think twice before coming anywhere near Nora or her clan.”

I shudder. I don’t want to know what Illren did to the men who kidnapped me. Honestly, I’m a little surprised Henry is still breathing. I wasn’t sure Illren had that kind of restraint.

“Henry Stadther,” Illren says. “He wanted information from Nora.”

I don’t need vampire hearing to know the growling through the phone is a string of profanities that would make a soldier blush.

Illren continues, further driving the nail in Henry’s coffin. “Yes, he still lives. I can’t say the same for all of his security, but Nora insisted I spare his life. We will have to let the authorities deal with him, unfortunately.” Illren looks at me and asks, “This is true, yes?”

I have no doubt that if I don’t specifically forbid them, Illren and Terrance will go kill Henry, so I nod and give him a firm, “Yes. Let Director West deal with him. I think enough people have died today.”

I ask for the phone back, and Illren hands it over without question. “Hey, T-man, I know you want blood, but we don’t need Henry’s entire clan gunning for us. That won’t help anything. Let the FUA have him.”

Terrance grunts. “At least the bastards who tranqed you and Oliver are dead.”

I’m glad that’s enough to mollify my vengeful troll. I think the mercenaries’ deaths are the only reason he’s not already on his way to the casino to rip Henry apart limb from limb. “Yes, they are.” I want to distract him from killing people, so I ask, “How’s Oliver?”

“He’s worried about you. Director West gave him the whole night off to get some rest.”

“Good. I’ll call him next.”

“No need. He’s with me. I’ll call Parker and Rook, and we’ll all meet you at Skinny’s.”

“Sounds good.”

. . . . .

Skinny’s looks the same as the last time I came—like a rundown biker bar where you’re likely to be served grease with a side of tetanus. It’s strictly an underworlder joint. Skinny, the gargoyle who runs it, had a weak glamour placed on it so that any underworlder can see right through it, but humans can’t find it. To them, it looks like a vacant, old strip mall.

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