Page 6

Liam grabbed the man by the throat, trapping his final word in his windpipe. Gods, how he hated the vampire aristocrats. All of them thinking the purity of their blood and the money in their accounts made them better than everyone else.

Nose to nose, Liam snarled, “Listen here, you little pissant, and listen good. I don’t give a damn what gold-plated vagina you sprang from. Nobody comes into my bar, on my turf, and insults me. Ordinarily, I’d just break your legs and toss you into the dumpster with the other rats. But seeing as how I have a prior engagement and don’t have time to wash the bloodstains from my shirt, I’ll give you one chance to get out of my sight. Now, when I let go of your throat, you’re gonna walk out that door. If I hear another word come out of your mouth, I’ll carve your fucking tongue from your worthless skull and hammer it to my wall.”

The male stared back, eyes bulging out of his head, face purple.

Through gritted teeth, Liam commanded, “Blink if you understand.”

When Pompous agreed, Liam released his neck. The male fell, sucking air, then scuttled toward the door on his hands and knees like a cockroach.

Applause and cheering sounded behind him. Liam spun, shooting the crowd a pointed, one-eyeball glare. Silence descended. Howlers’ patrons ducked their heads, turning their attention back to their drinks.

Liam nodded, blew an appeased huff through his nostrils, then stomped a path to the bar.

“That was disappointing,” Gavin, his bar manager, said, meeting him across the scarred bar front.

For Liam as well. The way he was feeling, he could use a punching bag. “Stop your belly-aching and pour me a drink.”

The fire demon grinned. Unfazed by Liam’s tone, he chose a bottle of Liam’s private stock from under the bar.

While Gavin filled his glass, Liam caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored wall. He smoothed his tatted hand over the Viking mohawk he’d secured with a rubber band at the back of his head. Since he kept his muddy-blond mop shaved on the sides, the gray at his temples was hardly noticeable.

“Look at you preening,” Gavin dared to taunt him, taking his life in his hands. “Don’t tell me you let that guy go because you didn’t want to dirty your shirt before your big date?”

Liam stabbed his index finger into the counter. “You going to serve me that whiskey or gab like an old woman?” Shame of it was, the bastard wasn’t wrong. Gavin shoved the drink into Liam’s hand and he took a sip, grumbling into the glass, “It’s not a date.”

“Is that why you’re wearing your lucky shirt?”

“It was the only thing I had clean.” He’d gotten more tail than he could count in his favorite black thermal. Something about the way it drew tight over his wide shoulders drove the ladies wild.

“Well, if it’s not a date, then what is it?” The fire demon scratched his skull, itching the place where he’d sheared off his horns. It was a sacrifice many of his kind made in order to walk among the humans undetected. Sadly, his wasn’t the only species in the underworld to sacrifice their heritage to satisfy the Council.

Liam firmed his jaw. “None of your business. That’s what.”

Gavin rested his flannel-covered forearm on the bar and glanced over his shoulder like he was conspiring to commit a crime. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the tart who called looking for you the other day, would it? The one with the sultry pay-by-the-minute voice?”

“Yeah, don’t let that voice fool you. Female’s fangs are sharper than a cobra’s, and she’s not afraid to use them.”

Smoke rolled from Gavin’s broad nostrils as he leaned back, demonic eyes flickering with interest. “You don’t say. Any chance she looks as hot as she sounds?”

Better.

Vivian Laurent was the most beautiful woman Liam had ever laid eyes on. Pin-up bodies like hers used to be painted on the side of old warplanes. He hitched a shoulder. “Eh, she’s all right.”

He slid his phone from his pocket and checked the time. On his lock screen was a picture Alexandra had sent him. In the photo, both his former Chosen and his best friend stood in front of a snow-covered mountain range. Jericho glared at the camera, looking surly while Alex beamed up at her mate, a lovesick grin on her face. More than once, his former Chosen had sent Liam a picture of her winter wonderland, begging him to visit.

Jericho had ferreted her away to some remote part of Montana, setting her up in a place far from prying eyes and folks with bad intentions. After everything Sunshine had gone through, she deserved some peace and quiet.

From what Jericho said, she was making steady progress, getting a handle on her new abilities. Good thing too. As a faerie-turned-vampire, Alex’s empathic ability was a thousand times stronger now. That power was manifesting in some impressive yet terrifying ways.

Gavin eyed his phone. “Alex send you another picture?”

“Yep.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Fine, I guess.” Better than she’d done when she was still his Chosen. For years, Liam had watched over the girl and done a piss-poor job of it too. Thank the gods that part of his life was over, and she was Jericho’s responsibility now. His Sunshine was a grown-ass woman mated to a male who was more than capable of taking care of her. Liam couldn’t ask for more for everyone involved.

Gavin faked a shiver. “Never get me to stay in a place like that. Believe me, fire demons and snow do not mix. You plan to pay them a visit?”