before taking a seat behind a Louis XVI desk. Leaning back in his chair, he appeared not to have a care in the world. But beneath that calm facade was a shrewd calculation. He all but ignored Azriel as his eagle gaze had settled on something of interest.
Namely, me.
“No wonder you didn’t want her frisked.” He reached in a deep drawer and produced a bottle of Canadian whiskey and three glasses.
“Her?” Azriel repeated, his tone caustic.
I stepped further into the shadows, somehow hoping that they’d protect me. I had no idea what Lorik made of the situation, or if he suspected us of something. No one would believe that I was simply Azriel’s apprentice. Or that he’d insisted on dressing me as a man for my own protection. When you kept the company of criminals, everything you did was suspect. As far as being in danger, we had nothing to worry about. Neither Lorik nor his father could do any real harm to us. But I was sure Azriel didn’t want anything to get in the way of his blossoming business relationship with the Armenian.
“She’s a looker.” Lorik raised his glass to me in a silent toast. “I’d keep her nice and covered up too, especially in the company of bastards like us.” Lorik filled a glass for Azriel and pushed it toward him. He took the offering with a scowl and drained the glass in one swallow before handing it back for a refill. “Ah, don’t feel bad my friend. To a less discerning eye, the illusion is acceptable.”
“Let’s get down to business,” Azriel said, without responding to anything Lorik had just said. “It’s late, and I’m tired.”
“My father will want proof.” Lorik’s tone had changed. No longer booming with amusement, but dark and serious. “Not that you’re untrustworthy, of course.”
“Of course.” Azriel’s tone dripped with sarcasm. From his pocket, he produced the ring he’d taken off of Joe’s finger. He tossed it to Lorik, who caught it in a quick, fluid motion. He turned the ring over in his hand as he inspected it and then pulled a handkerchief out of his coat to wipe Joe’s still-fresh blood from his palm.
“A little messy, no?”
Azriel shrugged in response. “Dead is dead. What do you or your father care how the job gets done?”
Lorik laughed, once again lighthearted. He reached into another drawer and produced a thick envelope which he tossed to Azriel in much the same fashion he’d delivered the ring. “I have a feeling you’re going to be worth your exorbitant price,” he said. “My father will be pleased.”
Azriel tucked the envelope inside his jacket and drained his glass, placing it back on the desk. “I’m more than worth it. Give Vasili my regards.” He moved toward the door, pausing only long enough for me to step out in front of him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your companion before you run off?” Lorik asked as if disappointed.
Azriel turned to face him, and I paused just outside the door. “Not tonight, Lorik.”
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Azriel.” Lorik’s voice seemed to follow us out of the room and into the hallway. “And please, bring her with you the next time you come around!”
No one but I could hear Azriel’s murmured response, “Don’t count on it.”
I pretended not to hear, but as we walked out the door, Azriel gave me a sidelong gaze. “This was a bad idea, Darian. Too risky. We can’t afford to invite scrutiny of any kind. I won’t take you out with me again.”
Chapter 9
For the next two nights, I felt a restlessness I’d never experienced before. My skin seemed stretched tight, the rooms of our apartment closed in on me, too small. And the air weighed down, almost too heavy to breathe.
I couldn’t get the image of Joe’s girlfriend out of my mind––the fear in her eyes as I whispered in her ear, the nervous trepidation as she’d done what I’d told her to do. And though I knew I’d done my part, I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of her. Would she find a new sugar-daddy? A man more dangerous than Joe? And would she be spared again if caught by her lover’s enemies?
Azriel lay next me, his arm draped across my stomach. I listened to the sound of his breathing, the even rise and fall of his chest. In fifteen years, I’d never told him how I felt about him. And in turn, he’d never professed his affections for me. I didn’t know what love was. My parents had never spared much time for me, and seemed happy to see me married off and out of their home. And Henry . . . he hadn’t shown me an ounce of kindness, let alone love. I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to love, but I thought I loved Azriel. He had to love me, as well. He showed me kindness and passion. He protected me and saved my life. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.
Had Joe’s mistress felt protected?
I left my corporeal form, and Azriel stirred for a moment before settling back into sleep. The gray hour of dawn couldn’t be too far away, so rather than take the chance of being caught without the shroud of shadow to protect me; I dressed in the suit and tucked my hair up into the fedora. I cast one last look at Azriel and brushed my fingers through the silky-soft strands of his hair. He couldn’t protect me forever. I was going to have to learn how to take care of myself.
I wandered invisible, unsure of where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do. It’s not like I was looking for trouble, but for some reason, I almost hoped that trouble would come looking for me.
With nowhere else to go, I found myself standing in front of the building Joe Connolly had used to meet with his mistress. I stared up at the fourth story window, thinking of the emptiness in the man’s eyes when he died. I’d always known that Azriel was dangerous. Deadly. God help any fool who dared to cross him. He’d called Joe’s girlfriend a liability. And though I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, I’d realized since our meeting with Lorik that I was a liability, as well. I didn’t want to be his weakness, the one thing an enemy could use as leverage. I may have been immortal, but neither Azriel nor I were completely safe from harm.
The sound of a scuffle floated to my ears on the morning breeze, and I turned my attention to the source. I narrowed my eyes, concentrated my preternatural senses and zeroed in on the ruckus that came not from around the block, but further away––closer to the waterfront.
It wouldn’t be long before the sun crested the eastern horizon. The gray hour was upon me, and I used the last minutes of darkness to speed through the city streets past Pike Place Market into the warehouse district. I knew the area all too well. I’d learned some very valuable lessons on this pier fifteen years ago: that I was stronger than I could have ever imagined, and that mercy was a weakness I couldn’t afford.
A woman’s enraged shriek brought me out of my reverie, and I followed the sound from Belltown all the way to Colman Dock. Four men, dressed in ragged sweaters and caps pulled low over their heads, struggled with a slight but furious girl who kicked and scratched at them as they tried to shove her into the baggage room.
Something inside me snapped. It had been almost two decades since I’d been a victim in any form, but I knew the fear this woman felt. I entered the fray, even though mere minutes would see me trapped in my corporeal form. I was substantially stronger than a human man. I could have broken one’s neck, long ago. I didn’t need any other proof than that memory to solidify the belief that I could—and would—end a life before the sun rose if need be.
“Ah! God damn it, she bit me!” One of the men shouted, and a loud crack resounded in the vast covered dock as he rounded on the girl and slapped her.
A snarl tore from my throat as I grabbed the bastard by the shoulder and threw him a good ten feet away. Wood splintered as he crashed into a crate, and his grunt of pain gave me a perverse sense of satisfaction. I kicked at attacker number two, glad I’d worn the pants Azriel bought me tonight. The range of motion was wonderful. I would be hard pressed to go out in a dress ever again. I’d managed to stop two out of the four men, and rather than continue on my violent rampage, I centered my attention on the girl who slapped and kicked and tried her hardest to escape the iron grip of the men who still had a hold of her.
I wrenched her free with no effort whatsoever and sent her stumbling toward the dock exit. “Run!” I shouted. “Get out of here!”
She didn’t need to be told twice. As quick as a rabbit she scuttled out of sight, her shoes echoing into silence as she fled. I didn’t have time to congratulate myself on a job well done, however, because I’d failed to consider my next move, once I’d managed to rescue the girl. My strength was indeed impressive, but I hadn’t managed to
