Page 48 of Grim’s Delight (The New Protectorate Syndicate #1)
TWENTY-SIX
It was instinct to fall back on her cool customer service expression as the man neared their table. She tried not to tense. I belong here, she reminded herself. I get to sit at this table. I’m not prey anymore.
The man was slightly shorter than Felix but built a lot sturdier.
His shoulders were broad and his chest deep.
The man was pale, with auburn curls shaved close on the sides and left a little long on top.
A red beard had begun to grow in thickly on his cheeks and even though the light was too dim to be sure, she thought his eyes were a soft, warm brown.
Dressed in dark pants, a white t-shirt, flannel, and shit-kicker boots, he looked far more out of place than she did.
In fact, he looked like he’d just gotten back from a hike.
Flashing a blinding smile full of fang, the man rumbled, “Well, I didn’t want to believe the rumors, but congrats must be in order.”
“Byrn,” Felix greeted. His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but it wasn’t exactly warm, either.
“Amauri. You gonna introduce me to your new bride?”
Looking like he’d rather pull his own fangs out, Felix said, “Dahlia, meet Robert Byrn, head of the Byrn family. Byrn, meet my bride, Dahlia Bowan.”
Smile widening into something that might’ve devastated her before she met Felix, Robert winked and said, “Call me Robbie. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dahlia. Damn shame we didn’t get a chance to be properly introduced before you took a shine to Felix here.”
It took everything in her not to blush when he gave her throat a significant look. Wearing bites proudly — and owning exactly how one got them — was normal in the vampire world. She’d known that for years. But it was a whole new ball game when strangers started ogling them.
“The pleasure’s mine,” she replied, lifting her chin. “Sorry you didn’t get a chance, but my husband doesn’t play fair. Can’t say I mind.”
Robert arched a heavy ginger brow. Sliding an inquiring look toward Felix, he parroted, “Husband?”
Felix shrugged. “Anchor. Mate. Husband. All the same shit. As long as it means forever, I don’t care what word she uses.”
A flurry of butterflies exploded in her stomach. Dahlia had to quickly suck her lips between her teeth to stop herself from breaking out into a big, soppy grin. Felix wasn’t even trying to be sweet. He just meant it, plain and simple.
Robert crossed his burly arms over his chest. “Can’t fault that. You’re a lucky bastard, Amauri. Though I can’t say you won the lottery on in-laws. I heard Alastair torched one of your clubs recently.”
“And I sank his yacht, Atlas,” Felix replied mildly. “It’s a game we play, him and I.”
“Can’t say I expected Alastair to be a gracious father-in-law. Or for you to be an easy son-in-law, for that matter.” Robert gave Dahlia an impressed look. “You must have the patience of a saint.”
She snorted. “I really don’t. That’s why we’re here.”
Nodding, he took a look around the bar. Following his gaze, she noticed several other people watching them, apparently waiting for their chance to approach the table. “Well, if you came to get the rumor mill going, then you’ll accomplish that.”
“We don’t want there to be any doubts,” Felix replied, his smile all sharp teeth and menace.
Robert tipped his head. “There won’t be any of those after tonight. You both look like pin cushions.”
It was impossible to maintain her aloof veneer. Dahlia felt herself go a little pink, and knew for fact that she had when a deep laugh rumbled out of Robert’s chest. “That’s cute as fuck. You got a sister or something, Dahlia? I’d love to find a girl who blushes like that.”
“No sisters, I’m afraid,” she muttered, trying to regain her composure. The closest she had was Cecilia, and while Robert was certainly her type — minus the criminal affiliations — Dahlia had no intention of introducing the two. Her friend was busy, after all.
Robert let out a dramatic sigh and took a step away from the table. “Damn. Well, I’ve got business to handle, so I’ll leave you to your rumor mill. Dahlia, let me know if any long lost cousins appear, all right?”
Felix tapped his claws on the cloth table top. “Stop trying to charm my bride.”
“Can’t help it. The charm comes natural to all Byrns,” Robert shot back, his grin wide and lethal. If she hadn’t spied the gun strapped to his side, she would’ve said he had the boy next door charm down to a deadly science.
Spinning on the heel of his boot, he gave them a casual wave over his shoulder before he made his way out of the bar.
They didn’t have to wait long before they were approached again.
For the entire half hour they sat at the table, they entertained a steady trickle of United Washington’s most dangerous vampires.
They couldn’t seem to help themselves. Everyone wanted to see if the rumors were true — not just about Felix snagging a blood bride, but about her.
They seemed far more interested in her side of the story than she could’ve anticipated.
Dahlia was used to being seen and not heard. Head down, tray up. That was the motto. Not being noticed was a survival strategy. But that wasn’t how it worked in the syndicate. To be someone, to have power in her own right, she had to be seen and heard by everyone in the room.
Nothing about it felt natural, but it began to come easier to her as person after person drifted their way. It still felt strange to say, “Yes, I’m Alastair’s daughter,” but seeing how seriously they took it, she stopped feeling outright silly every time the words left her mouth.
And when Felix tightened his arm around her shoulder and introduced her as his bride? That felt right.
Her half hour of allotted time flew by. Before she knew it, Felix was standing up and ushering her out of her seat, hardly sparing a glance for the young brother and sister — the Enamorado siblings — she’d been talking to.
Offering them a hasty goodbye, she let him guide her out of Old Blood with a mix of relief and disappointment.
It was heady being taken seriously by so many powerful people, but it was exhausting, too.
It felt a bit like she’d crammed an entire eight hour shift into her half hour of socializing.
It was invigorating, but she also couldn’t wait to get home.
Watching the valet drive her car up to the curb, she asked in a low voice, “Do you think Mr. Bowan will get the message?”
“He’d have to be completely delusional not to,” Felix answered. Opening the passenger door, he nudged her in.
Dahlia frowned. “It’s my car. I want to drive.”
“And I want to live to eat out my bride, which means I’m not letting you drive again tonight. You’re worse than Luis.”
“Don’t be rude. I’m nothing like that speed demon. He told me the other day that he’s broken every traffic law in the UTA.” Despite her huffing, she did slide into the passenger’s seat. Her brain felt too full to drive, anyway.
Felix closed her door with a snap, and after a quick adjustment of the driver’s seat to accommodate his long legs, they peeled away from the curb to head back to the Amauri mansion.
Laying his hand on her thigh, he confirmed, “That’s actually true. You wouldn’t believe how many traffic violations Milo has had to bribe Luis out of.”
“Why doesn’t Luis do it himself?”
“Because he doesn’t care. He thinks it’d be fun to go to jail for a little while.
Pretty sure he believes he could break out.
” Felix slowed to a stop at a red light.
The streets near their exclusive neighborhood were understandably less busy than those closer to downtown.
There was hardly anyone else on the road — just them and the black car driven by their security.
Dahlia began to tick off points on her fingers.
“So Luis thinks it’d be fun to break out of jail.
Marietta collects swords. Alvin has some weird blood fetish.
And I’m pretty sure Nash has a secret shrine to Genevieve somewhere in the house.
We need to get the Amauris some better hobbies, Felix. Seriously.”
Felix made an indignant sound. “You forgot Milo.”
“I thought Milo was normal.” As normal as a man as intimidating as him could be, at any rate.
They didn’t speak much, but that didn’t seem to be unusual.
Milo was the strong and silent type. When he spoke, it was only because he actually had something to say.
Otherwise he was content to stand off to the side, his gaze ever-watchful and his scarred face impassive.
He couldn’t have been more different from his brother or cousin Marietta, who both had personalities bigger and gaudier than the Amauri mansion.
Almost afraid to ask but way too curious not to, she said, “Tell me he doesn’t collect, like, severed heads or something.”
“Who do you think we are?” Felix gave her an offended look as he took a turn. “We don’t keep heads. We dispose of all body parts properly like the professionals we are.”
“Very reassuring.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Dahlia waited for a beat. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she exclaimed, “Are you gonna tell me or not?”
Lips twitching, Felix answered, “Milo likes to?—”
The hit came out of nowhere.
One moment they were taking the last turn on the narrow private road before entering their gated neighborhood, the next a large black SUV side-swiped them, sending the car careening into the guardrail that protected the park.
Felix hissed a curse and attempted to maintain control of the wheel, but there was nowhere to go. The back end of their car bounced off the railing, sending their front skidding back toward the road. Dahlia yelped as she was yanked hard against the seatbelt.
Felix attempted to reverse, but the SUV had been joined by another that swept in behind them. Within seconds, the vehicles had blocked any escape routes and the line of sight of their security.
“Felix,” Dahlia rasped, watching with wide eyes as he unsnapped the buckle of his seatbelt and reached for his gun.