Page 6

CHAPTER SIX

The noise and heat of the bar washed pleasantly over Vlad as he lounged in a red leather armchair.

Though it was a welcome respite from the chaos of the past couple of days, the whiskey in his glass did nothing to ease the hollowness inside him. He took a brooding sip of his drink and watched the patrons milling about.

The Velvet Room was a high-end bar a few blocks from his Chelsea penthouse. The place had a retro vibe, all dark wood and leather, and an impressive collection of rare spirits displayed behind a copper-topped bar.

It was one of his regular haunts for those nights when he didn’t want to be alone in his apartment.

Tarang paced restlessly beside his chair. Though invisible to the crowd in the bar, his familiar’s anxiety was all too apparent to Vlad, his emotion bleeding through their dull bond.

Forty-eight hours after the incident at the Oro Divino , they still couldn’t access their powers.

“You’re going to wear a hole in that rug,” Cortes told the tiger.

Tarang made an annoyed sound.

The Colombian was nursing his own drink opposite Vlad, his relaxed pose that of a man without a care in the world. Only someone who knew him well would notice the slight tension in his shoulders.

“How’d the meeting with Giovanni and Wei Chen go?”

Vlad grimaced. “About as well as you’d expect.”

The crime lords had been surprisingly amenable to his explanations concerning what had gone down that night. Giovanni had even waved away his son’s injuries as an unfortunate consequence of being in their line of business. As for Wei Chen, the Triad leader had been unusually calm as she’d listened to the carefully edited story he’d given them about the powers he, Cortes, and their familiars had demonstrated.

Whether their demeanor was down to his ability to lie through his bare teeth or their own self-preservation instincts in the face of what they’d witnessed remained to be seen.

That might change the moment they find out I’ve lost my powers.

Cortes’s grunt brought him back to the present. “Meaning?”

“Meaning they’ve agreed to keep quiet about what they saw.” Vlad paused. “For now.”

Cortes’s expression grew shrewd. “And the price for their silence?”

Vlad sighed. “They want a bigger cut of the dock revenues.”

Cortes snorted. “Of course they do.”

“Yuliy will deal with it.” Vlad’s grip tightened on his glass. “It’s better than the alternative.”

Cortes narrowed his eyes. “The alternative being the crime families spreading word that the Black Devils ’ heir is now expendable?”

“Bingo. Though after that video leaked, the damage is already done.”

Tarang made a worried sound and bumped his leg.

Vlad instinctively tried to comfort him with a subtle wave of demonic magic. His gut clenched when his attempt returned nothing, his power as inaccessible as it had remained for the past two days.

Popo stirred on Cortes’s shoulder.

“You two are looking mighty gloomy tonight,” the familiar said merrily, his bright gaze swinging from Vlad to Tarang. “Cheer up, buttercups.”

“Not now, Bird Brain,” Cortes warned.

The parrot subsided with a put-upon sigh. “I’m only trying to lighten the atmosphere, my Enrique.”

“Has Mrs. Son-Ha gotten back to you?” Vlad asked Cortes.

“Not yet. I’ve had a couple of men camped outside her place for the last couple of days. There’s been no sign of her.” The Colombian grimaced. “You know how she is. She’ll call when she’s good and ready.”

Vlad wrinkled his brow and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

They’d decided the South Korean Shaman was their best chance at figuring out what kind of magic had been used on him. But getting hold of the old woman was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

There’s always Bryony Cross. But I’m loath to ask her.

Though she was a good friend of his, the High Priestess of the New York coven was bound to tell Mae what had happened.

Movement at the bar a few feet away caught Vlad’s eye.

He looked up and froze, his breath catching.

The woman was six feet tall, with an athletic build that suggested serious hours spent training. Her eyes were a deep sapphire blue and her blonde hair was pulled back in a French braid that emphasized her striking cheekbones and full lips. But it was the way she held herself that drew his attention. Like a predator at rest.

She wore fitted black pants and a cream sweater that did nothing to hide her curves. A leather jacket was draped over the barstool beside her.

Cortes followed his gaze. “That’s the most interest you’ve shown in anything for four whole months.” The Colombian’s voice held a hint of amusement.

Vlad barely heard him. He was too busy watching the woman deal with the drunk who’d decided to try his luck.

“Come on, gorgeous.” The guy who’d approached the blonde was doing his best to crowd her space, his friends loitering a short distance away. “Let me buy you a drink.”

She didn’t even look at him. “No, thank you.”

The drunk frowned slightly at her flat tone.

“Don’t be like that. I’m a nice guy,” he hiccuped.

“Nice guys generally take no for an answer the first time.”

Her voice was low and smooth, touched with an accent Vlad couldn’t quite place.

French, maybe?

The drunk’s face hardened. He grabbed her arm. “Listen here, you stuck-up bi?—”

What happened next was too fast for the human eye to follow.

One moment the guy was reaching for her, the next he was face down on the bar with his arm twisted behind his back. His friends gasped.

“Here’s the thing about being nice,” the blonde said, maintaining her deadpan tone and expression. “It’s a choice. Just like being a moron with a death wish is also a choice.” She applied slightly more pressure. The drunk whimpered. “Which choice are you going to make?”

“The nice one!” the drunk squeaked. “Definitely the nice one!”

“Glad we had this chat.” She released him. “Now, please leave.”

The drunk scuttled away, his friends quickly following.

“Damn,” Cortes muttered. “She’s good.”

Vlad had to agree. The blonde’s movements had been fluid and precise.

Almost too precise for a civilian.

Tarang’s attention was riveted by the woman. Vlad caught an echo of his familiar’s curiosity.

She returned to her drink as if nothing had happened. The bartender approached cautiously.

“Everything okay, miss?”

“Peachy.” She paused. “Though you might want to check your door policy. That guy’s cologne alone should be grounds for refusal.”

The bartender smiled. “Can I get you another drink? On the house.”

She arched a delicate eyebrow. “I never say no to free whiskey.”

Vlad couldn’t drag his eyes away. Something about her drew him like a moth to a flame. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this much genuine interest in someone.

Not since Mae ? —

He shut that thought down hard.

“Go talk to her,” Cortes said.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly myself right now,” Vlad muttered.

It wasn’t just his missing powers. His confidence had taken a serious hit following the incident at the Oro Divino .

Cortes rolled his eyes. “Your charm isn’t all demon magic. Some of it is actually you.”

“My Enrique speaks the truth,” Popo chimed in. “Besides, your pheromone levels indicate you’re in optimal condition for mat— mmph !”

Cortes had muzzled the parrot.

Vlad grimaced. “Your familiar needs therapy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Cortes frowned at the bird before jerking his head toward the bar. “Seriously though, go. The worst she can do is say no.”

Or snap my arm like a twig . But Vlad was already rising to his feet.

Tarang moved to follow. Vlad hesitated.

His familiar usually made himself scarce during his hookups. But something in Tarang’s steadfast gaze told him the tiger wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

He crossed the floor to the bar, aware of Cortes and Popo watching with poorly concealed interest. Though the woman didn’t look up as he approached, the way she fractionally adjusted her posture suggested she knew exactly where he was.

“That was impressive.” Vlad settled onto the stool beside her.

Tarang plopped down on his haunches and stared unblinkingly at the blonde.

She glanced at Vlad. “The part where I said no or the part where I had to demonstrate why no means no?”

“The part where you did it without spilling your drink.”

That earned him a faintly interested look. “A woman has her priorities.”

The bartender appeared with her whiskey. Vlad ordered the same.

The man dipped his head cautiously at him before vanishing.

Most people who worked around here had an inkling who he was.

Though the blonde clocked the exchange, she didn’t comment on it.

“Good choice.” She studied the amber liquid in her glass. “Though I prefer the twenty-one-year-old myself.”

“So do I.” He held out his hand. “Vlad.”

She eyed it for a moment before taking it. Her grip was firm, her palm callused in places that confirmed his suspicions about her.

“Delphine.”

Looks like I was right about that accent.

They sipped their drinks for a quiet moment.

“What brings you to New York?” Vlad said lightly, watching her reflection in the mirror opposite the bar over the rim of his glass.

She raised an eyebrow. “Who says I’m visiting?”

He smiled at the repartee. “I don’t live far from this place. I would have noticed you a long time ago if you were a regular.”

Delphine observed him with a quiet intensity that would have made any other man fidget.

“Work,” she said finally. “Though tonight I’m just killing time until I get my assignment.”

Vlad glanced at her glass. “Must be an important assignment if you’re drinking the good stuff.”

“More like one I could have done without.” Her gaze remained steady, like she was gauging him against some kind of mental checklist. “What about you? You don’t strike me as someone who needs to drink alone.”

“Who says I’m drinking alone?”

Her gaze moved briefly to where Cortes sat. “Your friend’s been checking his phone for the past five minutes. I’m guessing he’s about to make his excuses and leave.”

On cue, Cortes appeared at Vlad’s shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt.” The Colombian didn’t even try to hide his amusement as he dipped his head courteously at Delphine. “I’m heading out. Anya called.”

Vlad strongly suspected that was a lie.

Popo bobbed on Cortes’s shoulder. “Remember what I said about optimal mating conditions— ow !”

The parrot rubbed his beak where Cortes had flicked it.

Delphine’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly. Though it was clear she couldn’t see or hear the bird, her instincts obviously told her something was amiss.

Cortes leaned in to whisper in Vlad’s ear. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s a very short list,” he grunted.

Cortes chuckled and clapped his back before heading for the exit. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” He waved over his shoulder.

Delphine’s gaze returned to Vlad. “Now you really are drinking alone.”

“Not anymore,” Vlad drawled. He raised his glass.

The blonde smiled faintly and clinked hers against his. “Smooth.”

Vlad shrugged. “I try.”

He couldn’t help stare as she took another sip of her drink. The way she moved was riveting, every gesture deliberate and on point. Like she was constantly aware of her body and the space around her.

Even the way she swallowed fascinated him.

Tarang prowled closer, his curiosity a faint, warm pulse through their bond. To Vlad’s surprise, the tiger settled near Delphine’s feet, head cocked as he studied her.

“Military?” Vlad hazarded.

Delphine crunched on an ice cube. “What makes you say that?”

“The way you handled that drunk. That wasn’t some self-defense class move.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I just work out a lot.” Her stare turned piercing. “What about you? You move like someone who knows how to handle himself.”