hidden talents (16 page)

“These spell things have to be recharged?” she asked, thinking that might have caused the walls to feel more closed in.

He nodded. “That"s one of the reasons Blackwater sometimes turns them off.

He doesn"t want the batteries running out. What I"m wondering is why didn"t he burn you out like the others? What"s he saving you for?”

The question gave her a chill, which Adam soothed by chafing her arm. “I have no idea,” she said. “I don"t know of any way I"m different from the others.

Outside, lots of them were better with their gifts than me.”

“He"s worried about something. I could tell when he so graciously invited me to be a part of his team.”

“What favor did he want to ask me?”

“He didn"t give details. All I know is it has to do with some club he"s going to tonight. He wants us to come with him.”

“I guess we"re going then,” she said resignedly.

Adam kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you want me to finish you?” he asked, nodding toward the gaping zipper of her jeans.

She did, but the implication that she was the one who needed it frosted her.

“I"d like it if we both went,” he said softly.

His mind-reading would choose then to kick in.

“You kill me, babe,” she said wryly, and wrapped her hand firmly around him.

As cheap thrills went, the blazing heat of his cock definitely rated.

They were both businesslike about getting off, considering how little time they were likely to have. Adam"s hand worked faster than hers, but he was really ready to go. His body tensed and he blasted off maybe ten seconds before she did.

The little sounds he made as he shot his load drove her crazy: not quite grunts, not quite moans, but like going with her hand on him was extremely enjoyable. Those noises were the best soundtrack ever to come by.

She had the sinking feeling the memory of that soundtrack was going to keep many future climaxes company. Adam"s wolfy libido was the stuff fantasies were made of.

The club was in East Elfyunk, a mixed-income, mixed-race suburb outside the city core. They drove there in a massive tricked-out black Hummer.

Blackwater didn"t bother with an obfuscation spell, though he did bring along the spink demon and two more hunks of muscle for bodyguards. One of them was the beefy sorcerer, whom Adam learned was named Francis. He probably preferred Frank, but that would just make Blackwater enjoy calling him Francis more.

Given how he"d eyed Ari earlier, Adam didn"t feel too sorry for him.

He forgot him entirely when he saw the sign for the worn down two-story building that housed their destination. Adam had heard about this place. He had an immediate inkling why they"d come.

Evie"s was a supper and music club that had been popular since the 1930s.

Criminals liked it, but so did succeeding generations of Resurrection"s youth. For them, the air of danger added to its cachet. Though it was Tuesday, a slow night for many places, the graveled parking lot that surrounded the club was packed.

Their driver handed a bribe to the attendant and got them a reserved spot.

“Who"s Evie?” Ari asked as Adam helped her climb out. This was more than politeness. The dress Blackwater had sent to their room wasn"t designed for getting in and out of large vehicles. The slinky gray satin number was spared from baring the hooch in her coochie only by its final layer of fringe. Ari grimaced as the strappy heels he"d included wobbled on the gravel, but Adam had to admit she looked amazing.

This was a different sort of dress from Maria"s. In it, Ari was a woman and not a girl, one with the power to turn heads. Blackwater might not be personally interested in that, but his pride would enjoy being seen with a female other men would admire.

“Evie isn"t a who, my dear,” he said now. “Evie is a what.”

When the Eunuch stepped out of the Hummer, one of the goons brushed his spotless cream linen suit for him.

“Okay,” Ari said. “
What’s
Evie?”

“Evie is Mariska Andoor. She owns the club, and she"s an elf-vampire, hence E.V.”

“What does that even mean?” Ari asked. “She only drinks blood on St.

Patrick"s day?”

Blackwater laughed lightly. “Ah Ari, how I"ve missed your sense of humor.”

His tone gave Adam a turn, reminding him there"d been a time when the

Eunuch and Ari might have been if not friends at least friendly. He"d saved Ari and her companions from starving on the street. She must have felt grateful to him, until she figured out how dark his nature was.

Maybe Ari was remembering too. She frowned and smoothed her dress"s

fringe down her upper legs. “How do you make an elf-vampire? Do the vampires bite them?”

Blackwater enjoyed playing teacher, which she likely knew. “Elves can"t be turned, but they are one of only two races who can breed with vampires.

Vampires can"t breed amongst themselves, of course, not being alive anymore.”

“Who"s the other race?” Ari asked, clearly curious in spite of her dislike.

“Faeries,” he said. “But there aren"t many who"d stoop to it. Reproducing with anyone but themselves - and never mind the undead - generally isn"t their style.”

Blackwater said this differently than Adam would have. He could tell the Eunuch approved of their elitism.

The conversation had taken their little group around the side of the brick-clad building to the faded red awning that sheltered the front walk. A blue elf, one of the more solidly built subspecies, was vetting the night"s customers. He looked dubiously at the Eunuch, whom he obviously recognized.

“Just visiting,” Blackwater said, his palms exposed and his mouth gleeful.

“You know how I admire Mariska"s talent.”

That the blue-skinned man wanted to turn him away was clear. That he didn"t dare to, equally so. “Lord Grygir is here tonight,” he said stiffly. “We don"t want trouble.”

Blackwater"s teeth seemed to sparkle, he"d bared them so broadly. “When have I ever caused trouble? I assure you, I"m delighted Lord Grygir is in attendance.”

Adam wasn"t sure
he
was. Lord Grygir, a pureblood fae, ran most of the strip clubs in Resurrection, a business Blackwater had been trying without success to encroach on. His own disinterest in sex aside, he"d have been happy to cut a slice of that lucrative pie. Adam didn"t believe for a moment Blackwater hadn"t known the fae would be here.

“Fine,” the blue elf surrendered. “Just remember, we will call the cops if you give us cause.”

He waved the rest of Blackwater"s group through without comment. As they passed inside, Ari took Adam"s hand and held on. She might not know the players, but she"d be no stranger to her old boss"s mood. Adam suspected she knew more was on tonight"s agenda than a pleasant evening of listening to music.

∞

Evie"s was exactly the sort of club she and Max and Sarah would save their nickels to go to. Music was their shared passion, part of what had drawn them together. The performer wasn"t on stage yet, but the recording coming through the speakers inspired a smile: Jamaican reggae with a head-bobbing beat. This wasn"t big-label music; this was home grown imported stuff.

The main room was a sea of, well, not exactly humanity but certainly people.

Drawn together by their air of anticipation, they sat at round white-clothed tables, vampires next to elves next to who knew what. Candles flickered in glass votives, wisps of smoke rising to a stamped tin ceiling. Underneath the fresh table cloths and the flowers, the atmosphere was a little divey, though not so divey it would stick to your feet. Ari imagined the decor hadn"t changed much since the place had been built. Its very datedness made it cool. Lots of good music had soaked into these age-browned walls.

Seats were found for Henry Blackwater"s party at a small corner table near the front. To Ari"s dismay, her chair was squished close enough to Blackwater"s for their sides to bump. Blackwater didn"t seem to mind or even notice. His trouser leg brushed her calf as he tapped his foot to the beat. Then again, he might have been messing with her on purpose, because he knew she"d dislike him touching her.

At least Adam was on her other side.

The chairs" backs were turned toward the table so they could see the stage.

Ari tried to distract herself from Blackwater by checking out the groups next to them. Surprisingly, no one was checking out Blackwater. He was sufficiently distinctive to draw eyes, but tonight everyone"s attention seemed directed toward a table front and center before the stage.

Ari craned forward to see who sat at it.

There was just one man. He was tall and lean and dressed very much like Adam in a casual business shirt and jeans. A carafe of orange juice - chilled to judge by its condensing sides - sat behind his elbow with an empty wine glass.

Maybe fruit juice was his species" version of alcohol. If it was, he wasn"t imbibing. Positioned to face the stage, he leaned forward over his knees with his gaze on the floor. His hands were clasped together as if he were praying. He seemed too deep in thought to be aware of the eyes on him.

Ari understood why they couldn"t look away. He was the most beautiful

being she"d ever seen.

Adam was a handsome man. So was Blackwater, in his skin crawly way. This male threw off beauty like pollen. He was angel-gorgeous. Polished and buffed, his masculine splendor was touched with the perfect dollop of sweetness. Just staring at him gave her a little high.

This had to be the fae Lord Grygir. When Adam slid his hand to lightly rub the back of her neck, the reminder that any other man existed came as a shock.

She snuck a glance at Blackwater, whose gaze was also locked on the fae.

His expression was ... illuminating. If she hadn"t believed him to be incapable of attraction, she"d have said he was staring at the object of a crush - one he fiercely resented experiencing.

She wrenched her attention away before Blackwater could see she"d noticed.

Her hand was on Adam"s kneecap, clutching it like she needed a lifeline to steady her. A lifeline wasn"t all she needed. The flowery scent that lent Resurrection its trademark aroma wafted strongly from Lord Grygir. It smelled so good she wanted to hang her tongue out and pant.

Adam nuzzled her ear, teeth closing over her lobe in a gentle nip. “Faerie dust,” he whispered. “It"s a mild aphrodisiac.”

If this was mild, she"d hate to see intense. She was perspiring from arousal, and they"d barely been here five minutes. Adam released her ear and patted the hand she"d clamped on his knee. For a second, she wanted him so badly she couldn"t think.

It was a relief when the faerie lifted his head, his focus drawn to the room"s wide door. Then she saw the arrogance Adam had mentioned the fae having, but maybe
pride
was a better word. Lord Grygir"s spine was as erect as a general"s, his shoulders born in review posture. No woman with a shred of sense would fall for a man like that. He"d grind her into powder under one autocratic heel.

And then Mariska Andoor entered the room.

Ari didn"t know how to describe Grygir"s reaction except to say that joy washed through him. His eyes lit up and his proud mouth went soft. His beauty simply hurt then, the cool superiority gone from it. He was a young man in love, maybe for the first time. Her knowledge that his people probably disapproved only made him more romantic. His love was forbidden, but he loved anyway.

Ari gave the elf-vampire a heap of credit for not leaping into his arms.

Instead, she nodded at him warily, circling him a bit further off than necessary to reach the small raised platform at the front of the room. Ari was amazed to find a quartet of musicians sitting there with their instruments. She"d bet she wasn"t the only one who hadn"t seen them come in.

Mariska pulled the microphone from its stand. “Good evening, everyone,”

she said.

For the first time, Ari really looked at her. She wasn"t breathtaking like Lord Grygir, but she was really cute. Slender and vampire pale, she lacked elf ears but did have elfin eyes. They were green and slanted and fringed thickly with dark lashes. Her brunette hair was cropped very short, her nose was a button, and her little bowed mouth was as red as a kewpie doll"s. Her tatas were small but knockouts, a pair of peaches nestled in the low cut bodice of her blue velvet dress.

Ari could see why the stuck up faerie would go for her. She looked like someone who"d be a hundred times more fun than him.

Mariska turned slightly, signaling to her band. They struck up an old jazzy tune. The elf-vampire swayed, drew a breast-lifting breath, and then she began to sing.

Every hair on Ari"s arms stood up. Maybe the faerie liked the club owner for more than her cuteness. Mariska"s voice was amazing, like Lena Horne crossed with Rihanna. She knew how to use her pipes, for real, her delivery not just deft but emotional. Ari didn"t recognize the song, something about dark alleys and the ill-fated women who wandered into them. Possibly the composer was from

Resurrection. She found herself wishing Max and Sarah could be there to share her pleasure.

When Adam"s fingers rubbed hers, it was almost a good enough substitute.

Blackwater let her enjoy two songs before pressing a piece of paper that had been folded into an origami pocket into her hands. Ari squeezed it open, dread gripping her. Two locks of hair lay inside, one of them Maxwell"s russet brown, the other Sarah"s honey gold. Tears she couldn"t control swarmed into her eyes.

Blackwater leaned closer to her ear. “I just want you to know,” he murmured,

“that even though you and I are here, it"s always possible for me to reach out and touch your friends.”

She"d known that. She just hadn"t thought he would. Always before when

he"d disappeared from Manhattan, no one would hear from him. Ari swallowed the lump in her throat.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

“I want you to sever her vocal chords.”

He didn"t look at Mariska, but Ari knew which her he meant. She understood immediately that the singer wasn"t who Blackwater was striking at, he was striking at Lord Grygir. That was the Eunuch"s MO, to hurt his opponents through the people they cared about.