Page 31 of Love At the Gates of Hell (The Seven Sinners Trilogy #1)

nineteen

Cleo

Cleo was half asleep, sunlight leaking through the blackout curtains of Harker’s guest bedroom when her phone started to vibrate across the pillow.

She had been holed up in the apartment above Mathilde’s since she had been followed from her own place.

She appreciated Harker’s generosity and Luke’s overprotective streak and Gideon’s insistence that she “not be stupid” and try and go back home after the fight at the quarry, but she missed her bed.

She missed her linen sheets and her humidifier and her diffuser that let a steady stream of lavender soothe her to sleep.

She fumbled for her phone, her face half planted into the pillow as she cracked open one eye. Luke’s name flashed across the screen. She inched her body across the bed, her finger just tapping at the speaker phone before she curled up against the comforter.

“What?”

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” came Luke’s cheerful voice.

“Why are you awake?” Cleo asked, glancing at the clock.

Although Luke tended to live like a human, he wasn’t. And he frequently spent most of the night up and awake and doing whatever it was Luke did while the rest of them were sleeping. It was when the sun rose, when the morning came, that he disappeared to get some rest.

“Why aren’t you?”

“Harker and I smoked a joint before bed,” she told him, voice still scratchy from sleep.

“I didn’t realize that was an option,” Luke said thoughtfully. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

“You can’t get drunk but that hasn’t stopped you from drinking all my good tequila,” she countered.

“Touchè.”

She heard a faint curse in the background, no doubt from Gideon.

“Where are you?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hudson,” he said. “We got the call from Torretta late last night. They found the shithead who sold Benny out. They’ve got him holed up in some warehouse in the woods up here, so we’re gonna go see him for a little visit.”

“How’s Benny?”

Cleo felt a pang of solidarity with the witch.

“She’s hanging in there,” Luke said. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What do you need?”

“If we’re gonna do this thing at the gala, I think there’s a few things we’re gonna need,” he said. “I’m sending you a list. I think Huck should have everything.”

She felt the quick vibration against the mattress, and she could see the text message pop up on her notifications. She grabbed the phone as she rolled onto her back. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, until she reached the crossbow.

Well, there was a first time for everything.

“I can handle it,” she said with a yawn.

“Thanks,” he said but she could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Cleo?”

“Yes, Luke?”

“Be safe, okay?” he said. “Don’t let any of those pricks at the shop rile you up. And if anything feels weird, you know where to go, right?”

“I know,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

They hung up, and she pulled the comforter up over her face as she buried herself beneath the blankets for just a little while longer.

Nothing would be particularly hard to put together, but Cleo knew there was a certain level of negotiation she would have to entertain.

Which meant a shower and a blowout and enough lip gloss to distract from the fact that she was looking for rifles with scratched-out serial numbers.

But Cleo needed coffee before she embarked on any of those things.

The muted sounds of an old soul song led her to the little kitchen in the apartment where she found Harker drinking tea in a matching set of silk pajamas.

It was a modest space for the vampire, filled with thriving plants and incredible art and vintage furniture that probably wasn’t vintage when he first found it.

She had wondered countless times why he wasn’t holed up in some gorgeous row house or at the very least a three-bedroom, but he seemed content in the space.

He had told her once that after all the years he’d moved through the world as a vampire, he’d simply seen too much. Which was why he opened Mathilde’s.

A calm away from the demon hunting.

The catacombs of supernatural books he kept in the basement was a bit of a bonus.

“Good morning, love,” Harker greeted from the table.

“Good morning, Harker,” she replied brightly.

“Cleo, darling, this is Teddy,” he said with a wicked glint behind his eyes, gesturing to a lean and attractive brown man, wearing nothing more than a silk floral robe at the counter. “Teddy, this is Cleo. We met at the Ritz a few months ago.”

“Oh!” She smiled. “Good morning, Teddy!”

“Coffee?” he said, holding up the pot with a bright smile, his teeth very straight and very white.

He was cute as hell, with a little dimple in his left cheek and warm brown eyes.

Two tiny faint bite marks were just hidden by the neck of his robe.

So much for being vegetarian, Harker. “I just put on a pot.”

“Yes, please,” she said, another yawn passing through her lips as she sank into the seat across from Harker. “I’ve got a few errands to run for the boys today. Do you need anything?”

“For the gala?” he asked. “Take a peek in the basement before you go, love.”

“Oh my God,” Cleo said. “Thank you, yes, that’ll help. You know I hate Huck’s.”

“All this time, and you haven’t found a better connection?”

“It wouldn’t matter. Everything worth anything is owned by Markos,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s like he purposefully picks the perviest guys to run his businesses.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Harker asked.

Cleo shook her head.

“No, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said, waving her hand.

Harker looked at her over his nose.

“I’ve got Missy running the shop,” he said. “I’ll come with. Even if I just stay in the car. I’d prefer to at least be close by in case any of those little worms gives you a hard time.”

“If anyone gives me a hard time, I’m going to take care of it myself,” she told him pointedly. “Between you and Luke, I swear.”

But by the time Cleo pulled into the back alley beside Schmidt’s Shooters Supply, she was actually grateful Harker had bullied his way into her car.

She hated the way she had to navigate the world sometimes, knowing what it meant to be a woman in this business.

Knowing that she also had to account for some nutcase trying to become a demon who had little cronies at his beck and call to follow her around if they wanted to wasn’t all that fun, either.

She raked her hand through her hair, fluffing out the barrel curls she’d pinned earlier and spared a glance at Harker.

“I’ll be right behind you, love,” he said. “Absolutely gorgeous work on all this, by the way.”

The perks of being a pageant queen.

She smiled before she made her way toward the back entrance, the heels of her knee high boots clicking on the sidewalk.

A bell chimed as she pulled open the door, and she was relieved to find the place mostly empty.

No half-drunk survivalists trying to mansplain their way around an automatic rifle or men with patchy beards and polo shirts hovering near the Glocks breathing all over the cases.

But as she made her way further inside, the door behind the counter swung open, and she was surprised to see Frank Markos in the flesh walking from the backroom.

He seemed surprised to see her too, but a smile worked its way across his face.

“Cleo St. James,” he greeted, voice gruff and scratchy. “Long time no see, kid.”

Frank Markos was tall, thin—weedy may be a better word to describe him.

His skin was weathered from a little too much sun, and his hair was cropped short into a neat buzzcut.

Underneath his tweed blazer was a simple white dress shirt, and although she wasn’t certain, she had a feeling he was wearing loafers.

It was like a funny trick he played. To look so friendly and so unassuming.

Handsome, even, in a way. But Cleo knew what he was capable of.

Knew the power he had in this city. Knew that there wasn’t really a secret he couldn’t overturn if he was curious enough to know.

And she hated how much Luke and Gideon owed to him.

“Mr. Markos,” she greeted, putting on that bright and sunshiny smile, letting that Appalachian accent just drip with honey. “How are you?”

“Oh, managing just fine,” he replied.

“Where’s Huck?” she asked, tilting her head in that dumb little way of hers. “He’s usually my go-to guy here.”

The bell on the back door rang again, and Cleo hardly needed to look to know that Harker had slinked inside, his body covered by a basic black trench coat, no doubt an umbrella hovering by the door to keep him safe from the sun.

Lucky for them the weather was shit enough for the umbrella to make sense, the sky overcast and cloudy.

“Oh, Huck’s running an errand,” Frank replied, his eyes also tracking where Harker entered. “You know we all wear quite a few hats in this operation.”

She laughed, hoping it reached her eyes.

“After this, I’m dropping off dry cleaning,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I feel like their mother sometimes.”

“Mother?” Frank repeated, amused. “Neither one of those boys looks at you like you’re their mother, Red. In fact, I’m often wondering which one of them it is you’re attached to. Dragging a woman around in this line of work… what’s the fun of it if you’re not, you know…”

He smirked, his eyes raising as he considered her, and she hated the way that up and down look made her feel. But she powered through it. Bright eyes, big smile.

“I can assure you, it’s more like I’m the annoying kid sister.”

A long silence lingered between them.

“If that’s what you’re calling it these days.”

She let out a forced laugh before digging in her pocket for the shortened list of items she needed to acquire that she couldn’t pull from Harker’s weapons closet.

She was lucky the more unsavory things had come from Harker.

She wasn’t sure how she’d be able to explain the crossbow. It wasn’t exactly bank-robbing typical.

“You think you could help me with some of this?” she asked, sliding the list toward him.

Her handwriting was soft and rounded, little hearts dotted over each letter I.

It was exactly the vibe she knew worked with men like this.

Sweet. Feminine. “We’re doing a little audit on our inventory, and there’s just a few things we’re missing. ”

He plucked a pair of glasses from his suit jacket and glanced down at the list as he perched the half-moon frames on his nose.

“We should have what you need,” he said, before he gestured for her to follow him toward the back room.