Page 83 of Blood in the Water

Despite it being packed, the crowd was split into invisible groups. Along the sides of the club, the different allegiances of people clumped together: Italians, Russians, Greeks, and maybe even some members of a cartel in the back corner. Most of the men carried concealed weapons hidden beneath their suit jackets. Some even openly did drugs on the glass tables. But on the dance floor, everyone mingled in a mesh of bodies swaying to the music.

I circled, trying to find the man I saw earlier. A pressure alighted the back of my neck, lifting the little hairs there. I glanced over my shoulder multiple times, but it was so packed, and everyone was moving around that I couldn’t find the cause.

Maybe I was just being paranoid.

After another lap around the club, I finally found my mark.

The Italian soldier leaned over the bar, ordering another round of drinks for him and his friends. Once I heard his voice shouting over the music, it clicked how I recognized him. I had been right; he was one of the guards at the gatehouse.

Lucky for me, he took off his suit jacket and laid it over the chair behind him.

I plucked the tracker from where I stashed it in my bra and clicked the little button on the back to activate it.

Then I snuck through the crowd, dodging the undulating dance floor, barely escaping the grabby hands of more than a few men, and narrowly avoiding a crash with one of the bottle service girls.

But finally, as casually as possible, I slowly walked past the soldier’s chair and slipped the tracker into the front pocket.

Mission complete.

The soldier chose that exact moment to pull back from the bar, glass in hand. His eyes landed on me, standing right behind his chair.

I froze. My heart shot through the beautiful chandelier hanging from the roof. There was no way he didn’t know who I was, right?

I waited for the recognition, for him to notice my hair, face, or anything that would give me away as the daughter of the head of his Family, his Don, his boss. But he was far too faded to lookatme. Instead, he looked through me.

“Hey baby,” he slurred.

I didn’t wait for whatever sleazy pickup line would come out of his mouth. My mission was done; the tracker was planted, so it was time for me to go back upstairs. I stepped back into the dance floor crowd, letting the mess of bodies act as the perfect cover to disappear without a trace.

Those little hairs on the back of my neck stood up again.

When I glanced over my shoulder this time, a body moved in behind me on the dance floor. I turned to find an absolutelygorgeousspecimen of a man.

Dark hair, dark eyes, and an immaculate dark suit. He was about the same size as Cas, and his body took up enough space that the people around him leaned away from him like he was cutting a line through the crowd. After growing up around men like Max and Cas, I could easily recognize the muscles hidden underneath his suit and the gun within his jacket.

An angel of the night come to life, he was both deadly and graceful. The amused curiosity on his face had me swallowing.

It was the look of a predator, knowing it would play with its prey.

He slipped closer, sucking up all the air in my now-invaded personal space. I peeked the head of a green Asian dragon tattoo weaving around the right side of his neck, only to dip beneath his shirt.

Not an angel of the night. A dragon. A predator. It fit him.

His lips dipped toward my ear. “Everything alright?”

One of his hands reached around to rest on the small of my back while he pulled me taut against him. The DJ blasted another song with an intoxicating beat that almost had me moving against my will.

I was positive he could feel every beat of my heart, either through his palm on my back or my chest plastered against his.

“Oh, hi there,” I said as he led us further into the dancing throng of people. A predator, indeed. I was a fly trapped in a spider’s web, but for some strange reason, I had no desire to break free. “Yes, of course, why do you ask?”

“You just look a little lost.” He leaned forward to speak in my ear so I could hear him over the sound of the music. His voice was deep and melodic, vibrating through my chest.

A waitress pushed past us, carrying a tray of shots. He plucked two off the top, handing one to me.

“I’m fine, but thanks for asking,” I said as I tried to pull away. My job here was done; the tracker was in the Italian’s jacket. It was time to get back upstairs before Ciel realized I was missing.

But the dragon held me tight against him.