Chapter Twelve

Amazing what a couple of good rounds of hot, sweaty sex could do for a girl. She’d slept soundly, which wasn’t surprising. She’d needed the rest. Asher had been beside her, his arms around her, as though even in sleep he didn’t want to release her.

Or maybe it was to keep her from getting her sword and decapitating him while he was vulnerable.

There’d been a bad moment or two during their lovemaking when he’d become transfixed on her neck, and she’d wondered if she was in for the fight of her life.

Instead, the most powerful vampire she’d ever met had tried to run away. In that second, her trust had solidified.

If he could fight bloodlust, was willing to battle it, then he had to have very strong feelings for her.

The vampire and the hunter—not exactly a storybook couple.

They’d risen just after sunset. After a not-so-quick shower, which included more hot and soapy sex, they’d eaten and were now settled in his office.

“Anything?” Asher was busy with the phones they’d taken from their attackers. He’d gotten past their passwords without a hitch.

“A lot of texts back and forth between a couple of them and plans to meet at a club here in Manhattan. Seems like it was a regular haunt for them.”

“But they met us in Brooklyn.”

He tossed the phone he was holding onto the desk and shrugged. “That’s where they were sent by whoever is behind this. This club may have nothing to do with what’s happening.”

“But it’s a starting point.” And about the only lead they had.

“We can ask around. See if anyone knew them, where they lived—because it’s not the address listed on their licenses—that kind of thing.” Asher’s eyes darkened. “It will serve notice that you belong to me. To move against you is to move against me.”

A shiver raced down her spine and goose bumps ran down her arms. The possessiveness in his tone should put her hackles up but didn’t. It was a rare and beautiful thing to have someone concerned about her safety.

And she wasn’t stupid. There was a contract out on her and likely to be more takers. Having him on her side gave her an edge, and she needed every advantage she could get in order to stay alive.

Asher was a very dangerous man. Handsome as hell, too, in his dark jeans and silk shirt. The shirt probably cost a small fortune and had definitely been tailored to fit his broad shoulders and lean body. Made her think about what was beneath the expensive fabric. Hard muscled abs. Hot skin.

She shook off the lust that seemed to always be bubbling just beneath the surface whenever he was near. “Anything from Maccus?”

“No. And he won’t contact us unless he has something solid. As far as he’s concerned, by coming here he’s fulfilled his social obligations for the next several centuries.”

“Seriously?”

Asher stood and came around to the corner of the desk where she was sitting. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen him more in the past year than I had in the previous century. It’s Morrigan’s influence.”

“That woman must have some real mojo.” It would be fascinating to talk with her.

“Never forget that Maccus will destroy anyone he perceives as a threat to her.” It was a pointed reminder, but not one she needed. Not after meeting the guy.

“Got it.” She linked her arms around his neck. “When do we hit the club?” Time to find out who was setting her up as bait, trying to use her to hurt Asher, and possibly Maccus and the Forgotten Brotherhood.

“Tonight. No point in waiting.”

Her life expectancy, even with Asher by her side, was extremely short. No matter how much she might wish differently, she was human. He’d been created by a goddess and would be alive long after she was dust.

Would he even remember her after a century or two?

Best to enjoy the here and now and not worry about tomorrow.

“What are you thinking?” He rubbed his index finger over the furrow of her brow. His breath feathered over her face. His olive-toned skin was smooth. No wrinkles. No blemishes. Just pure perfection. He didn’t even have a five o’clock shadow. Guess shaving was something he didn’t need to worry about, either.

She, on the other hand, already had some fine lines radiating out from the corners of her eyes. And even though she was an adult, she still got the occasional blemish. Her lips got dry and cracked in the summer heat and winter cold. Yeah, she was far from perfect.

No sense in dwelling on something she couldn’t change. “Just worried about what’s going to happen.”

Now he was the one frowning. “I can smell a lie. If you don’t wish to tell me, that’s fine. Just don’t lie.”

Shit, she hadn’t intended to drive a wedge between them. “You’re right. I evaded. Maybe that’s not fair, but nothing about this situation is. What good would it do to tell you I’m worried about dying? I’m also worried about living. What happens then?” Before he could utter a word, she held up her hand to stop him. “Not now. Please don’t say anything. We need to concentrate on whoever is behind those email messages.”

His lips firmed but he gave her a curt nod of agreement. “You’re absolutely right. Our best bet is to go to this club—the Dark Side.” He practically sneered the name. Not that she blamed him. For a club that likely catered to vampires, it wasn’t very original. At least it didn’t have the words blood or suck in the name.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and pick up some useful intel.” His words were clipped, his tone cool.

Gone was the playful lover. In his place was the enigmatic man she’d only caught glimpses of. He’d been different with her from the very beginning.

Well, she’d gotten what she’d wanted. Total professionalism. Why did that make her sad?

She reached out and touched his arm, only to have him pull away. Unsure what to say or do, she let her hand drop back down by her side.

“I’ll gear up.” Needing time alone to compose herself, she left him in his office and went to where her coat was stored.

Focus on the hunt, on finding out who’s behind all this.

The sooner they were done, the sooner they could both put all of this behind them.

A sense of loneliness swamped her. She ignored it as she picked up her sword and studied the blade for sharpness.

…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Asher wanted to kick the desk but refrained. It was a favorite piece, and given his current mood, he could easily destroy it. Plus, the ruckus would bring Jo back to investigate, and he needed some space.

She’d lied to him.

Okay, maybe not lied, but she’d sidestepped the truth until he’d confronted her. “She’s entitled to her own thoughts,” he muttered. But he didn’t like it. He’d also handled it badly.

Hurt by her actions, he’d pulled back.

And what had that accomplished?

Nothing, other than shoving her even further away. He wanted back the intimacy and ease from the day they’d spent together. They were facing the unknown and needed to work as a unit rather than two separate entities. Not easy for either of them as they were both used to functioning solo.

I’m worried about dying. I’m also worried about living. What happens then?

Her words pummeled him. Of course, she was worried about dying. Any normal person would be. But worried about living?

He let his head fall forward and rubbed the back of his neck.

I’m an idiot.

She was concerned about what came after. He was immortal, and she wasn’t.

He would have to watch her age and die.

The unfairness hit him with the force of a sword to the gut. Anguish swamped him. He dropped to his knees, hands fisted on his thighs and teeth clenched to keep from roaring. He’d been so preoccupied with the present, he hadn’t thought about what came after.

If she stayed with him, he’d only have her in his life for a very short time.

Acceptance washed over him, a cooling balm.

So be it.

He was tired of living, of spending most of his time alone, isolated from others. He’d been an outsider in his own family, then an outsider when he’d been blessed—or cursed depending on the day—by a goddess. Century upon century had passed. Duty and service his only solace. For ten thousand years, the world had changed but he had remained the same.

Until Jo.

Weariness descended on him. Some would say it was too soon to care so much about her. But he wasn’t human. He’d seen civilizations rise and fall. Through all those years, only one woman had ever touched his soul.

Someone else would have to police the monsters that roamed the world. He was done. If he couldn’t have her in this lifetime, he’d chase her into the afterlife.

The rightness of his decision settled into him. He manifested a nail and dragged it across his palm. Blood beaded, and he licked it to seal the vow.

He pushed upright and went to find his woman. He had to figure out how to repair the tear in the fabric of their relationship. But that would have to wait. They had a club to visit.

…

“You ready?” It was the first words he’d spoken since they’d left his home. The walk through the city streets had been done in silence. Neither of them was sulking or angry. It was more that they were trapped in their own thoughts.

A couple of times on the way here, the back of her neck had prickled, and an uncomfortable sensation had washed over her, leaving her slightly sick to her stomach and itching to palm her Glock. It wasn’t just nerves because of where they were headed. Someone had been watching them.

Time to focus.

Asher seemed more himself again. She guessed he was allowed to have moods. Whatever happened between them in the future had to take a backseat to the problems facing them now.

“I’m ready.” The weight of the sword sheath on her back, the gun in the shoulder holster, and the crossbow beneath her coat gave her comfort. They were familiar and had saved her life too many times to count. She could do this.

Not like I have a choice.

That was the story of her life.

Asher placed his hand against the small of her back. Even through the layers of leather and fabric, she swore she could feel the heat from his skin. Or maybe it was the simple comfort of knowing he had her back that was making her warm.

“Don’t worry.” His deep velvet voice was a whisper in her ear, his hot breath fanning over it. The sensual caress had her blood heating. “You’ve got this.”

She nodded toward the main entrance. “Let’s do this.” The long line of hopefuls waiting to get into the club snaked down the side and around the corner of the building.

“Now I remember why I avoid New York hotspots. No place is worth waiting.” While the night wasn’t frigid, it wasn’t exactly warm. It was still only spring, and the temperature dropped at night.

“That’s not a problem for us.” Asher strolled straight to the head of the line, acting as though he had every right to be there. She trailed alongside, curious what he’d say or do to gain entry.

There was some grumbling among the masses waiting, but none of them actually said anything directly to him. Which proved they were smarter than they looked.

Asher didn’t even stop. Just kept on walking. The bouncer at the door glanced their way, appearing bored. He looked away, but then his head snapped back, and his eyes widened.

He either recognized Asher or at least knew what he was.

He scrambled to open the door, even inclined his head as Asher passed.

“Useful,” she yelled over the rising noise.

“I do try.” Keeping one hand on her back, he guided her toward the top of the staircase. The landing was rather wide with the stairs flowing off on either side. The scene below was mesmerizing.

Music pumped out of the speakers, making the floor vibrate. Lights flashed on the gyrating bodies on the dance floor at the far end. This had originally been a warehouse that had been converted a few years back into a dance club. The decor was a study in red and black and likely served drinks with cute names like vampire’s kiss and blood martini.

To each their own. She’d seen too much, done too much, to find the humor and fun in such things.

What wall space existed displayed huge pictures of classic vampires from movies and literature, each spotlighted for maximum effect.

Jo studied the people as best as she could. It wasn’t easy as there were a lot of dark areas and the lighting was dim, except for those that flashed over the dancers. No way to tell who was normal and who was paranormal.

The bulk of them had to be human, though. She wondered how many of them had any idea of the creatures that shared the space with them. To most of the undead, they were nothing more than meals waiting to be consumed.

“Left.” Asher eased her toward the stairs on that side. Since his senses were more finely tuned, she bowed to his judgment. Plus, she had no way of knowing who he might recognize.

He was one of them, yet not. That had to get lonely.

When they hit the bottom rung, a large black male almost seven feet tall materialized from the shadows and blocked their way. He wore black pants and a deep red vest, exposing his massive biceps. His shaved head shone in the flashing lights. “Gregori wishes to speak with you.” His deep voice rose easily over the music. “Come with me.”

Jo wasn’t even aware she’d pulled a dagger, but there was one in her hand, her fingers gripping the handle tight. This guy was huge. The blade wouldn’t slow him down at all unless she was able to slash his jugular. And she wasn’t even sure it would penetrate his thick neck.

“Tell him to come to my table.” Asher’s tone was calm and almost pleasant.

He had balls of steel and a tactical mind. This Gregori was obviously a major player around here. The kind who’d have information on everyone who came inside the door.

“Gregori wishes to see you,” the big man repeated.

Asher stared at the giant, who stumbled back as though he’d been shoved. “And I said he could join me at my table. Tell him Asher requires his presence.”

Wow, she hadn’t thought it was possible for a man with such dark skin to appear pale, but the bouncer or whatever he was suddenly looked ill.

The big guy held up his hand and snapped his fingers. A waitress scurried over to them. “VIP section,” he ordered.

“Thank you.” There was a chilly politeness to his tone that coated the air around them in an icy frost. Her skin prickled beneath her leather coat. Was her breath frosty? It should be, considering her core temperature had dipped several degrees.

The giant gave a small shudder before he nodded and was swallowed up by the shadows.

“Shall we?” He took her hand in his and motioned to the waitress to go ahead of them. The young woman was scantily clad, as were all the servers, in fishnet stockings, high heels, a skirt that was barely legal, and a top that just managed to contain her bountiful breasts. The shoes and top were red. The stockings and skirt black. The effect was striking.

Jo didn’t have to worry about losing him in the crowd. People quickly moved out of their way as they followed the server to one of the areas mostly shrouded in darkness. They passed a brawny bouncer and went up a short flight of stairs. When she narrowed her eyes, she could make out a series of booths along the wall.

Some of them held people—impossible to tell what kind. Many were in various stages of undress and engaged in activities she was glad she couldn’t fully see.

Asher waited until she’d scooted inside before joining her on the plush bench seat. Only once she was seated did she slip her knife into her pocket.

“What can I get you?” the waitress asked.

He held up a fifty he must have retrieved from his pocket at some point and handed it to the woman. “Nothing for now. We’re waiting on someone.”

She nodded and licked her lush red lips. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, exposing her long neck. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, just let me know. My name is Marla.”

He stretched out his arm and rested it along the back of the booth, brushing Jo’s shoulders. “I have everything I need.”

The waitress nodded and disappeared, leaving them alone.

“Quite the place.”

She barely had the words out when a male voice replied. “I’m glad you approve.”