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The ever-so-talkative and welcoming Bobby escorted me to the Original Sin, a five-story casino and hotel owned by White. When Bobby gestured for me to follow him to the elevators, I ignored him and followed the scent of food and top-shelf booze instead. Ignoring the looks I got from the well-dressed patrons who were starting to fill the place for the early dinner rush—or, more likely just getting up after the previous night's debauchery—I found an empty booth in a corner where I could see the whole room. Sliding onto the red velvet seat, I took off my jacket and smiled up at a handsome waiter, ignoring Bobby's stewing behind him. The waiter was young, barely old enough to serve alcohol—but barely was still old enough, and I needed some liquid fortification. I waved away the menu he offered. "I'll take your best dark beer," I said, returning his smile. "The biggest steak you have, very rare...and two of your most expensive dessert."
He nodded and turned, nearly running into Bobby. "Oy," he hissed. "What the hell, Bobby."
I raised a brow at the fuming bodyguard as my lovely waiter left to put in my order. "Yeah, Bobby," I said pleasantly. "What's the matter? Someone piss in your Cheerios this morning?"
He crossed his arms and glared at me. "Mr. White asked me to bring you to his office."
I waved a hand. "And miss all this? No fucking way." And no way was I going to meet that poisonous asshole in his office—a place that was probably well-guarded and sound proofed, way up on the top floor of the building where no one would notice me being assassinated.
Bobby opened his mouth to say something, then clamped his mouth shut and turned on a dime. He almost made it to the lounge exit before White himself strolled in. I watched the man, trying to figure out what the hell he was. Nothing I'd ever encountered before, I decided. He was tall and broad, but polished, wearing one of those suits I knew must cost a couple thousand dollars. This time, he was dressed all in shades of gray. Fitting. He was dark and ash, all the way. Black hair, chiseled features, black eyes that sometimes glowed red around the edges.
Those chilly black eyes met mine from across the room as Bobby gestured and said something, probably complaining about my inability to follow directions. White smiled, and I thought it was probably meant to be charming but all I saw were teeth.
He waved Bobby off and made his way to my table. "Hello, Miss Lionheart," he said in a smooth, dangerous voice.
I grinned at him. "Hey there, Mr. I-fucking-know-you're-a-self-important-ass-so-stop-smiling-already. Thanks for dinner."
My waiter approached with my beer, giving me a smile as he set it down with a flourish. Then he turned to White, who slid into into the booth across from me. "Mr. White," he said with a big, happy smile. Gross. "I didn't know you'd be joining us tonight. Your usual?"
The smarmy, deceptive ass gave the kid a fond-looking smile. "Sure, Cameron. Thanks."
He turned those black eyes on me as the kid left. "How are you, Miss Lionheart? Business good?"
I took a drink of my beer, sighing at the wonderful quality of it. My clan made the best dark beers in the world. But I was never going back there again, so I'd have to settle for second best. "Oh, the usual," I said airily. "How about you? Snuff any competitors lately? End any rival mafia?"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "I am not a lowly thug."
I raised an eyebrow and started ticking off items on my fingers. "Owns most of the big-money businesses in town, check. Guy who owes him money took up kidnapping and selling humans into slavery, check. Accidentally on purpose kills that guy and takes the big fat briefcase full of cash, double check. Turns up involved in some sort of hinky animal killings in which he bosses the police around for some mysterious reason, check."
One corner of White's perfect mouth twitched. Whether in amusement, or because he was thinking about strangling me, I'm not sure.
We stared at each other.
"You forgot something," he said calmly. I arched a brow at him. "You forgot the part where my secretary purchased some of those slaves, apparently for me, since I have to resort to sex slaves rather than oh, I don't know, find my own dates. Because apparently, I'm not only lazy, but disgusting and ugly as well."
I almost choked on my beer, cleared my throat and set it down. "Right, that too."
He rolled his eyes.
I suppressed a smile. Good to know I could try the patience of a stone-faced crime lord. Even if that would probably get me a pretty new pair of concrete shoes.
"Is there a reason you wanted to invite me dinner?" I asked, chancing another drink of beer.
He tapped his fingers on the table. Nice, clean, blood-stain free fingers. Normally I would find the guy attractive. He had that sort of deadly alpha aura that my clan loved so much. But that magic on him...I shuddered. Nope. No, and no fucking way.
The food arrived and White thanked the waiter, then gave him one of those kind, caring employer smiles that I knew was bullshit. "Do me a favor please? Go find the two other new hires and bring them back here? Let your supervisor know I said you can have an extended break?" The guy nodded, sliding a curious glance my way before hurrying off.
I was halfway through my steak—nearly raw and dripping juices just the way I liked—when the waiter returned with two other guys in tow. They were both as good looking as he was, one pale and light-haired, one dark-skinned with dark hair.
"Hello boys," White said kindly. He picked up his plate and came around the booth to shove me over, sitting beside me like we were old friends, then gestured to the empty side of the booth. "Have a seat."
I stopped eating—which was hard, because the food was top-notch, and I wasn't planning on paying for it. "Uh, hi?"
Cameron smiled at me and offered his hand. "I'm Cameron. These idiots are Nick and Reese." I shook his hand, confused, but he barreled on. "I think you sort of...saved us?"
I glanced at White, who was eating a salad, of all things. Weirdo. "Explain."
White gave me a smug smile. "I believe these are the tortured souls my secretary bought for me to abuse."
Cameron snorted. The other two shared a shocked glance.
"Please," White said magnanimously, "tell Miss Lionheart how I keep you trapped here and use you for illicit sex."
The waiter seemed to be the most talkative of the bunch. He laughed out loud, then cleared his throat. "We were kidnapped off the streets," he said, looking at his hands for a moment. "All of us were...well, I was a junkie and they were just having really shitty luck. We were all homeless." He glanced back up at me. "But you know that, right? I heard about it. We were snatched by some guy who looked like a hunchback but was really a freaky turtle dude and sold to this smarmy guy that worked for Mr. White. Some crazy, not-human chick hunted down the turtle guy and killed him." He smiled at me. "You told Mr. White his secretary bought us. When Mr. White found out, he...well he found us and took care of us."
The blond guy looked at me like he was in awe. "Oh my God, that was you? Thank you! That guy, he...well, if you hadn't tipped off Mr. White, I don't know if I'd still be alive. So, thank you!"
The other guy nodded. "And none of us would have what we have now."
I glanced between them. "Which is what? This asshole isn't keeping you here against your will, is he?"
Cameron laughed. "Mr. White? Are you insane? We were all homeless. He got us cleaned up and gave us jobs—good paying jobs—and a place to live. I probably would have died out there on the streets, either gotten my ass shot or overdosed or something. Now I have my own apartment and I'm saving for college.
"Which," White said, shooting him a glare, "he only has to do because he is so stubborn. And there is no sex involved, illicit or otherwise."
Cameron rolled his eyes and shook his head at his employer. "I'm not letting you pay my way through college. I have to do something on my own."
I shook my head. "Twilight zone," I muttered, starting back in on my food before it got cold.
White waved the guys away. "Go on, get back to work." They all waved at me as they left.
"You secretly make them run drugs, don't you?" I asked between bites.
White rolled his eyes and finished his bite of salad. "Cameron is a waiter, as you can see. Nick is a valet. And Reese works in room service. No one pays as well as I do. And before you can say anything, no those are not code words for drug running or prostitution, or whatever perverse thing is in that irritating blond head of yours."
I shrugged. "So, you cleaned up your secretary's mess. Big deal. Want a medal?"
He moved back to the other side of the table to sit and sip at his wine. His eyes were a bit red around the irises again, and I swear I saw something there—pain? Probably just rage. "I trusted my secretary. He betrayed that trust. He is no longer with us."
I cocked my head. "Got the concrete shoes, huh?"
That didn't even earn a lip twitch. "No. That would have been too easy a solution for a traitor."
My blood froze to ice in my veins. I swallowed my last bite of food and chugged the rest of my beer. "Whelp," I said hastily, not wanting to know more. "Glad to see the boys are okay. I guess I'll see you around."
He grabbed my wrist to keep me from standing. "That is not why I asked you here—"
"You mean that's not why you had your bodyguard kidnap me off the street." At his glare, I waved him on. "Oh, keep going."
He sighed. "I see you are out poking around in things again, Miss Lionheart. I wanted to offer you a job." He smiled. "Things would be so much easier for you with my resources."
I stared at him in surprise. "You want me to work for you? Doing what, chasing down people who owe you money? No thanks."
He let go of my wrist and sat back to sip his wine, a dark red that reminded me of blood. "I want you to keep doing what you currently do, actually. I just want to work together."
I shook my head. "No thanks." No fucking way.
He glared at me, magic moving in him in a restless fashion that made me nervous. "You may wish to think about this a bit, Miss Lionheart."
I stood. "What, you think I'm afraid of you?"
He smiled. "No. Which is why I want you to work for me."
I stepped back. "Never going to happen, buddy. I like my freedom. You just want to own your own gryphon."
He shrugged. "Fine. Have it your way. But stay out of the animal killings, for your own good."
I crossed my arms and glared at him. "You do not get to tell me what to do."
Those red eyes flared at me briefly. "For now. Just consider it friendly advice. I've got it handled. If you keep nosing around in it, I will take that to mean you have agreed to work for me."
"Oh, fuck that," I said as I spun away. "Good luck with that God complex you've got going on there, buddy."
He only laughed, the dark sound sending chills down my spine as I walked away.