She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. Not only was she trying to stave off the headache she felt creeping up, she was checking her temperature. Trolls weren’t the most diligent species when it came to oral hygiene. It would be just her luck to survive the attack only to succumb to some stupid infection because the thing didn’t floss.
The air stirred beside Juliana. She looked up to meet Tony’s dark eyes. They were a startling contrast to his platinum blond hair, but both suited him. He managed the Den and seemed to think that looking after her was part of the job. “You okay, Jules?”
She leaned back in her chair and searing pain flared through her shoulder. She hissed in a breath and froze, not daring to move until the sensation eased a little. It was her own cursed fault for not taking any of the pain meds the medic offered, but she didn’t like what drugs did to her head. Never had. When she could talk again, she answered through clenched teeth. “Troll bite. You know how they are.”
He blinked a couple of times. “Um...no. Actually I don’t. Not all of us run about playing with the animals.”
She didn’t respond to his comment. Most of the people Tony called friend were more uncivilized than the troll ever thought about being. She should know, she’d grown up amongst many of them. Seen them at their absolute worst.
“Did you see the doctor?” he asked, concern threading his voice.
“Medic. She did what she could, but it’s deep and burns worse than pixie venom. It’ll be all right in a couple of days.” She swirled the amber liquid in her glass, not meeting his eyes. “This is good, but I could use something with a bit more
Needing it so much made the request feel like begging. She hated it and didn’t want to have to ask again. But she would. She’d ask him a hundred times if she had to. And if he still said no, there were other sources. Other places she could go. Gods, she felt like an addict and maybe in a way she was. Addicted to the quick fix. To not feeling the pain. She shoved the thought away.
He glanced around, though Juliana had no idea who exactly he thought might be watching. He snatched the glass from her and hurried through a door behind the bar. A few minutes later, he returned her drink.
She sipped her scotch, closing her eyes to savor the coppery-sweet tang of vampire blood mixed with it. An acquired taste, she’d grown to like it over the years. Crave it, even. She gave Tony a nod of thanks and he went back to his work.
The buying and selling of vampire blood was illegal, but no laws limited its consumption. The vampire Council however kept a tight rein on distribution. Juliana didn’t think they’d get irate over the little amounts Tony gave a Walker here and there, but it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious. All the major groups of Altered had similar systems of oversight. It was the only way so many powerful control-freaks could co-exist without killing each other. Their leaders made sure they stayed in line, and took care of it when they didn’t. The things that slipped by their notice were the jobs that were picked up by the Agency.
As the governing body over the vampires, it was well known the power had long ago gone to Council’s heads. They could be irrational and petty at times. Growing up in a coven gave Juliana more insight into them than any outsider should possess.
It’s why the presence of outsiders was usually forbidden in the covens. They had a strict vampires-only policy, but her would-be savior had been powerful enough, and old enough, to do as he pleased. The Council, of course, being what they were, acted as if it were a fine idea to have a half-dark fae, half-mage in the middle of one of the most powerful covens in the country. When they couldn’t get their way, they acted as if it was what they wanted all along.
Halfway through her drink, liquid warmth flowed into her shoulder to replace the pain. A trembling sigh of relief escaped her. She had no idea how old Tony was, but his blood was sweet, potent. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head over the back of her seat. Tension flowed from her, untying the knots of stress that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her shoulders.
Then, the phone rang. Every head in the bar turned toward the sound. Juliana always assumed the Den had a phone, but she’d never heard it before. Even Tony hesitated a moment before answering. His eyes shot up to meet Juliana’s before he looked quickly away. She glanced to her phone on the table. It was charged with full service bars. As if it would be anything but—it was charmed. Not a call for her then, but about her. Either someone was asking questions or Tony was up to something he didn’t want a Walker to know about.
Her jaw clenched. She didn’t like either option. Apparently, no one else in the bar did either. They stood, almost in unison, threw some money down and hustled up the short flight of stairs to the door. Juliana didn’t want to bust Tony, and she wanted him selling her out even less.
Tony put down the phone and spoke in a low tone to the bartender before hustling through the door behind him. She stretched the muscles in her neck, marveling at how quickly the knots had reformed. The bartender Miguel had grown up in the coven with her. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Tony was gone. Turning back, he met her eyes and jerked his head toward the exit. She didn’t hesitate. Tony had crossed her one way or another.
Juliana’s chest ached and she ignored the sharp pain that tried to remind her she’d just been betrayed by one of her closest friends. One of the few people she trusted. She should have known better. She’d mourn the loss later. Right now she had to worry about saving her own skin. She fired up her gift causing her eyes to glow much brighter than their normal emerald. Many beings could cloak their presence from the casual observer, but she’d yet to meet one that could hide from her. Miguel smiled as she pulled a pair of dark glasses from her pocket and slid them on. They hid her eyes from view but were charmed not to interfere with her vision. Despite the near impenetrable darkness of the lenses, to her it was like looking through glass.
She didn’t intend to hang around and wait for whoever called to show up. If she could get out of the Den before they got there, she could conceal herself in the night, memorize their signature and hunt them down when she was more prepared. Tony came out of the back room just as she passed the bar. Seeing her, he shot a narrow-eyed look at Miguel.
Her former friend rounded the bar in a flash and snared her arm in his cool grip. Tony’s palm was damp as he started to steer her back to her table. “You can’t leave yet, Jules. You haven’t finished your drink.”
She planted her feet, resisting when he tugged. “I’m not thirsty. Besides, I think it’s about time for me to head home.”
He released her and stood with his arms at his sides, palms out in a pleading gesture. “I really think you should stay.” Sweat beaded his forehead, the skin around his eyes stretched tight with worry. Either he feared her, or whoever was about to walk through the door scared the crap out of him. Maybe there was more to this than she’d thought. A thread of worry for her friend snaked its way through her.
“What is this, Tony?” She crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to believe he’d been manipulated or coerced, but she wasn’t ready to trust him just yet. “If you’re in some kind of trouble, I can help. Whatever they’ve got on you can’t top me. You know I’ll kick your ass if you cross me.”
Hurt flashed through his eyes. “I’d never harm you, Jules. You’re family. You know that.”
“Then what in the name of all the dark gods is going on?” She maintained her stance, waiting for him to answer.
He opened his mouth and froze, eyes locked on a point over her shoulder. His already pale skin blanched to a new shade of white. She reached for her gun. At the same time, a warm breeze caressed her neck like a lover’s tease. Her breath caught. Her pulse raced. She stayed her hand though part of her still ached to palm the weapon. She shut down her gift but left the glasses on. She knew this enemy.
“Juliana.” The word, a whisper, floated down the stairs and wrapped around her, willed her to turn. She swallowed a sob of despair and answered its call. She turned slowly, hoping she was wrong, but knowing who she’d find behind her. Only one man had ever affected her this way.
Thomas Kendrick stood at the top of the stairs, looking as gorgeous as she remembered. His dark hair fell in soft waves to his shoulders. His brilliant topaz eyes looked her over from head to toe and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. She forced her feet to stay flat on the floor, fought her desire to go to him, cursing the part of her that wanted him even as she hated him. The gods knew she’d tried to stop loving him. She’d even thought
