“How much pain can you stand?”
He lifted his arms and used his hands against her shoulders to push her away. She eased the knife back into her pants before anyone around them could see. Not that the other patrons of the club had stopped their dancing, drinking or lurking long enough to witness her interaction with the dark-eyed creep.
“Crazy bitch!” he sneered at her before walking away.
Ravyn smiled.
She’d been called worse.
The music was still going and she recalled why she’d been on the dance floor in the first place. Picking up with the rhythm, she danced around in a circle until she was facing the wall where her admirer had stood, only to find that space empty. He was gone. Good. She walked off the dance floor and returned to the bar where she’d been standing, watching and listening. But her mark was gone, as well.
Vertis Pinkney was a rookie thief, extortionist and small-time drug dealer. He’d popped up in Burgess about a year ago, running his mouth about all the product he could score and dealers he knew from farther up north, but had never come through with anything on his own. What he was good at—and the only reason she ever allowed herself to be within earshot of him—was getting information. Three months ago, he’d mentioned an expensive collection of artifacts from Egypt being shipped to Burgess for an archaeological conference. That’s when she’d begun to plan.
“You want another drink, pretty lady?”
It would have been great if he’d called her by her name, or simply not acted familiar with her at all. But in the end, it didn’t matter. The bartender was an okay-looking guy and if she was in the market for one, she might have been interested. But she wasn’t and so his thick beard, bald head and smoldering gray eyes did nothing for her permanently-on-vacation libido.
“Nah, I’m good,” she responded with the same amount of nonchalance she gave everyone in this place.
She didn’t do the club scene often and Twilight had just reopened a few weeks ago, but this was where Vertis hung out.
“You need somethin’ else tonight?”
His hands were flat on the bar top as he leaned in to look pointedly at her. She held his gaze. “No.”
He shrugged as if she hadn’t just turned him down. “The back room’s open.”
“I’m aware.” She wasn’t here to buy drugs, get high or get laid.
“Or I could get you something personally and meet you with it later.”
She tilted her head, surveying him once more. His beard was a sandy brown color, thick and worn longer than she thought was necessary. His bare arms were roped with veins and muscles that seemed to strain against his skin. The sleeveless white T-shirt he wore was molded to his wide and also muscled chest. He was tall and she figured on another day, perhaps five or six years ago, she might’ve been willing to ride him toward a glorious orgasm.
“There’s nothing in that room or with you that I need.”
For an instant she thought he was gonna go all wounded-pride-need-to-lash-out on her, but eventually he smirked, pushed away from the bar and eased on down to the next customer—another woman who smiled the moment his attention was aimed at her. The guy’s flirting was pathetic.
Ravyn was glad to take her gaze elsewhere, looking around the room to see if she saw him. Vertis, not the enforcer. That guy had apparently left and that was just fine with her. She didn’t know why he was always hanging around her, anyway. Seeing him everywhere she went for the past few weeks was starting to make her a little edgy, something she couldn’t afford. Not when she was so close.
It appeared Vertis was gone too and all she could do was sigh. That meant her work was done for tonight. She turned away from the bar, pushing through the crowd of people until she was at the door. When a hand moved over the bare skin of her midriff, she stopped. Her body tensed as she prepared to fight.
“Next time, leave your weapons at home. We’ve got rules here.” The woman speaking to her was a couple inches shorter, with close-cut blonde hair and gold eyes that had to be contacts.
Her hand was flat against Ravyn’s knife.
“Then maybe you should provide a safer environment for your patrons,” Ravyn replied, then pushed through the door, leaving the woman to stare after her.
The evening air was warm against her face when she stepped outside, as summer inched its way toward fall. Her steel-toed boots made a muted sound as she crossed the sidewalk, heading down Luker Street toward the alley.
Cars whizzed by with almost the same frequency as if it were two o’clock in the afternoon, instead of two in the morning. The glow of white streetlights lining the curb cast eerie shadows on the ground and she pushed her hands into the front pockets of her black jeans. She was tired after taking inventory of supplies at Safeside and getting the Hudson boys settled in their new space. But she’d had to come out tonight. Confirmation was needed and had been partially obtained.
With a hum of satisfaction, she turned the corner into the alley. The bright lights from the clubs and buildings not far away didn’t reach into this area and nobody thought it made sense to add any. Easing her right hand out of her pocket, she pulled out and clicked on the penlight, which doubled as a slim tube of mace. The gadget had been made especially for her by someone she’d helped at Safeside and was easier to conceal than the knife at her waistband. Her steps were assured, but she did pick up her pace because there was no use in tempting the elements around her. She only
