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“You know, this means you have to tell me every gory detail about how Zand proposed to you.”

“It was literally when I was executing Marisol.”

“Child, it sounds so twisted when you say it like that.”

Morgan was right, of course. There was no going back to normal, no pretending that our lives hadn’t veered into territory that defied comprehension. All we could do was move forward together, one human and one vampire. This was our new reality show, and we probably couldn’t sell it to Bravo, but I bet the Zeus network would sign us up right away. Our friendship was the only thing we had left from our old world. And somehow,that made even the darkest parts of this new life seem survivable.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ZAND

Ileaned back in my leather chair, watching the security monitors that lined one section of a wall in my office. Normally, the monitors were hidden from view. Tonight, I wanted to see everything happening downstairs at the club. Each screen offered a different view. There was the dance floor packed with gyrating bodies, the lower-level VIP sections with their velvet ropes and bottle service, and the front and side entrances where my people stood guard. There were video cameras in the upstairs VIP room also, but I wanted to give Chanel and Morgan their privacy. I was the king of this small empire, and tonight, in due time, I would plot the expansion of my reign.

Harlen slouched in the chair across from my desk. He had one leg draped over the armrest in a posture that was more human than vampire. The events with Morgan changed him. Losing the human version of her, turning her, and helping her navigate her new existence had altered him. My brother had always been chaos personified. Now there was purpose in his actions and movements.

“What’s up with you?” I felt the need to check in, to see where his head was.

“I should’ve killed Teresa when I was back in L.A.” He grumbled. “Before she became a problem.”

“Hindsight.” I replied. Tracing the rim of my untouched whiskey glass filled with AB negative blood. I was working on my second glass of the crimson liquid. “She wasn’t always what she is now. I thought she would’ve been done with her antics after killing the pilates instructor.”

Harlen snorted. “She was always a snake. You just didn’t see it.”

He was right, but I didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, I turned my attention back to the monitors.

“When Teresa finds out about Marisol, she will be more careful. More desperate.”

“Good.” Harlen spewed. “Desperate people make mistakes.”

The heavy door opened, and Natasha entered. I’d called her down from the security room a few minutes before. She was my number one soldier reporting for duty.

“Any updates?” I asked as she approached my desk.

Natasha reached into the pocket of her tight black leather jacket and produced a black smartphone, Marisol’s. “I’ve bypassed her security pin.” She offered information. “But the contents are unusual.”

She placed the phone on my desk, and I resisted the urge to pick it up immediately. “Define unusual.”

“No names in the contacts.” Natasha explained, tapping the screen to wake it. The display illuminated with a cold blue light. “Just single-digit numbers instead of names as the contacts.”

“Odd.”

“The number One is attached to a number with a Chicago area code and it’s the same for contact, Two, Three and Four.”

Harlen leaned forward, abandoning his nonchalance. “Four contacts? That’s it?”

“It appeared to be a burner phone. There’s nothing personal on it. No pictures. No music. No social media apps or games.” Natasha said. “This phone is for a specific purpose only.”

I picked up the cellular device, scrolling through the sparse contact list. “A burner phone with no information,” I mused. “One of the numbers is for Teresa, obviously. But who are the other three contacts?”

“Allies.” Harlen suggested. “Other vampires she’s brought in. Remember the guy and girl I saw her with at Club Bailar Caliente? That could be two of the numbers.”

“Or humans working for her.” I countered. “She’s not above using humans. She was one not too long ago.”

The tall windows in front of my desk rattled as the bass reverberated through the glass from the club below. The sound was faint and distant. It was irrelevant to the war council taking place in my office. My fingers scrolled through the phone’s message history. There were a few cryptic texts that didn’t give anything away. Nothing revealing names, locations or specific plans.

“What about her call history?” I asked, handing the cell phone back to Natasha.

“It’s been cleared regularly. But I recovered fragments from the cache.” She scrolled to a series of timestamps. “Most calls were to contact One. Shorter calls to Two and Three. No communication with Four since last week.”