Unbound (14 page)

“I am.” Sadie kept her voice calm and crossed her legs while leaning one elbow casually on the bar. “What's your point?”

“We were hoping you could talk to the czars.” Darius leaned closer and covered her hands with his in a suggestive gesture. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as they drifted down, lingering on her breasts. “I, better than anyone, know how persuasive you can be when you want something. Perhaps you can explain to the czars how distasteful this latest development is to the vampires who live here. The city is crowded enough with humans, and the last complication our community needs is an influx of these werewolves. We thought she would take the complaint better if it came from you.”

“I see.” Sadie kept her eyes locked on Darius while removing her hand from beneath his. Irritation flickered up her back. She wasn't thrilled about Killian's plans either, but the last thing she wanted to do was go whining to Olivia. The woman had plenty of other fish to fry. “I am Olivia's friend, which is exactly why I will not go speak to her about this. Aside from the fact that it would be an abuse of our relationship, I'm not going to be a mouthpiece for the restless vampires of Manhattan. If you have a problem, then I suggest you and the rest of the whiners go to the Presidium's offices and file a formal grievance.”

However, even as the words escaped her lips, she knew what she was saying was a lie. She would be speaking to Olivia—but not for Darius's sake. Sadie would be giving Olivia a heads-up about the rumblings as a courtesy to her maker. If any trouble broke out with the wolves, then Darius and his crew would probably be involved.

“That is disappointing.” Darius's jaw set and the muscle flickered beneath his fair skin, belying his annoyance with her refusal. “Perhaps I misjudged our relationship.”

“We don't have a relationship,” Sadie said flatly. “We fucked twice back in the sixties, and to be really honest, I chalk it up to the fact that I'd fed on two hippies who'd smoked everything but the sofa. Two rolls in the hay do not make a relationship. It was fun but still, it was just sex, Darius.”

“But it was good sex,” he said with a widening grin.

“Most sex is,” Sadie said through a curt laugh. The wounded expression on his face instantly made her feel guilty. “Sorry…I think I'm just cranky. It's been a long night.”

“You always have been direct,” Darius said, rising to his feet. “It is one of your finest qualities.” His eyes flicked down to her cleavage again as he tugged the cuffs of his shirt from beneath his jacket sleeves. “So there's no way I can convince you to speak with Olivia?”

“Sorry.” Sadie hopped off the stool and started toward the door of the club to let him out. “If you and your friends have a problem, then make an appointment with Suzie and speak with Olivia and Doug yourselves. I'm not a politician, Darius. I just want to run the club with as little drama as possible. Okay?”

“I suppose,” he said with a sigh. Darius stopped by the door and moved closer to Sadie, intentionally invading her space as his eyes flickered over her in clear invitation. “Perhaps you and I should take another tumble. It seems I didn't leave you with a very good impression, and I just don't think my ego can take that.”

“Good night, Darius.”

Sadie pushed the door open and waited for Darius to leave, but he didn't. Instead, he drifted closer and ran one finger down the length of her arm, which did not have the desired effect. It was meant to turn her on, but all it did was make her want to roll her eyes. She was about to tell him to piss off when a familiar intriguing scent filled her head and sent a pang of desire through her body. Her gut clenched with a sudden and ferocious need as a deep, seductive voice sliced through the night.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Sadie let out a yelp of surprise that was rivaled only by the curse that Darius uttered when Killian Bane appeared on the sidewalk outside the club. The stretch limo he always rode in was idling at the curb behind him, and Ivan, the fiercer of his two pack members, stood a few feet away looking less than amused.

“Like I said,” Darius said without taking his fierce stare off Killian. “It's already a crowded city.” He stepped back and flicked his gaze to Sadie before making a wide path around Killian. “And think about what I offered, Sadie. The door is always open.”

“Right.” Sadie ran a hand over her hair in a pathetic attempt to get herself under control, or at least look like she was. That expression “Fake it 'til you make it” flew through her head. Her belly swirled with need and her legs felt unsteady. Sadie gripped the handle of the door tighter and leaned against the large wooden surface, praying she wouldn't fall on her ass.

She could feel Killian's eyes on her as Darius disappeared around the corner. Steeling her courage, she turned to face the inescapable presence that was Killian Bane. “What are you doing here?”

“Did I interrupt something?” Killian asked quietly. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks and glanced over his shoulder at Ivan, who nodded and got back in the car. “You two looked like you were in a deep conversation.”

“Conversations with Darius are never deep.” Sadie forced a smile and tried not to notice the way her body was reacting to Killian on a primal, carnal level. That scent of his was going to drive her wild. The cozy, comforting aroma of wood burning on a cold winter night oozed off him like fucking pheromones or something. Sadie cleared her throat and met his stare as he moved closer. “It's late. What can I do for you, Mr. Bane? Did you leave your phone here or something?”

“No.” An amused expression covered his face and he shook his head slowly, stopping about a foot away. Heat fired off his tall, broad-shouldered body in seductive flickering waves. “Actually, I—”

“Or did you come to try and steal my DJ again?” She tilted her chin in defiance and glared up at him triumphantly.

“Justine told you already?” Killian rose to his full height, his mouth set in a grim line. “Shit.”

“You arrogant son of a bitch.” Irritation crawled up Sadie's back, swiftly cooling her attraction to him. Standing in the open doorway of the club, it took every ounce of restraint she had not to haul off and deck him. “What? Do you think werewolves are the only ones who show loyalty to the people they care about?” A homeless man was picking bottles out of a garbage can down the street and Sadie lowered her voice. He probably wouldn't hear her, but that didn't mean she should be careless. “Well, I have news for you. Justine may not be in my coven but she's loyal to me. She told me all about your conversation.”

“Right,” Killian said with a surprisingly apologetic look. “Listen, maybe I overstepped my bounds. I didn't plan on asking Justine to DJ at our opening night. It was a spontaneous decision. David and I were talking about how good Justine is at what she does and how big the crowds have been at The Coven and, well, I guess I let my passion take over.” He shrugged, a cocky grin playing at his lips. “Sorry. My father would tell you that I don't always think before I act. Sometimes my enthusiasm gets me in trouble.” He extended his hand in a peace offering. “Can we call a truce?”

Sadie gaped at him in pure shock. The big, bad wolf was apologizing to her? At least it sounded like an apology. Part of her wanted to tell him to stick it in his hat, but that wouldn't help her or vampire-wolf relations.

Time to suck it up. Shit, she hated politics.

Flicking her gaze to his hand, she reached out slowly and placed her palm in his. The instant the searing heat of his flesh settled against hers, white-hot streaks of pleasure zipped up her arm and went right to her core. A slow smile cracked his face as he curled his strong fingers around hers and moved closer. His massive frame loomed large in front of her, blocking out the streetlamps and pretty much everything else. His warm brown eyes drifted over her face as he gently shook her hand, running his thumb over the curve of her wrist and sending tiny electric shocks beneath her skin.

She was in big, fat trouble.

“A-apology accepted,” Sadie said, quickly taking her hand from his. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away. A yellow cab zipped by, hit a puddle, and splashed the poor homeless guy. “I told Justine that she's welcome to work at your club—that night or any other night. She can split her time between both if she wants. But first she has to find me a part-timer to fill in when she's not here.” Sadie tried to act nonchalant about the whole encounter, not wanting him to know how much he unnerved her. “It's a big city and there's plenty of business for all of us.”

“I'm glad you feel that way. Thanks.” Killian turned to leave but stopped and gave her a curious look. “I've got one more favor to ask you.”

“Could I stop you?” Sadie asked all too sweetly.

“No,” he said flatly.

“Right.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “Okay, tough guy. What is it?”

“Come by my club and give me your honest opinion about it.” Killian's grin widened when Sadie couldn't hide her shocked expression. “From what I gather, your honesty is one of your best attributes.”

“Yeah.” Sadie sighed. “I've been hearing that a lot lately.”

“From your friend?” Killian asked, referring to Darius. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and a dark cloud flickered across his face. “Or is he more than a friend?”

“You ask a lot of questions, Mr. Bane.”

“And you aren't answering them, Ms. Pemberton.” Killian took two steps closer and lowered his voice further still. “Are you
involved
with that vampire? He seems too old for you, but I get the feeling you two have…tangled.”

Sadie held his stare and fought the rising surge of lust that swamped her, right along with his enticing scent. His physical attributes weren't all that turned her on. Oh, no. His forthright tone and alpha-male confidence had her fangs begging to be freed. Killian possessed a powerful, commanding presence. It flipped every switch inside Sadie and made her want to throw him against the wall and see what he was hiding underneath all those clothes. He definitely wore too many.

Damn it all to hell.

“That's none of your business,” she said hastily. Too hastily. Shit. She'd tipped her hand.

“Maybe not.” He smirked. “But I'm asking anyway.”

“Fine. No,” she said quickly. Holding her ground, Sadie gripped the door handle so tightly she was afraid it might snap off. “I mean, yes, but it's ancient history.”

“Yeah, he seems ancient.” Killian smirked. “Like I said, way too old for you.”

“Is that so?” Sadie said through a laugh. In spite of the fact that he should be her natural enemy, she found herself charmed by his flirting. “Exactly how old do you think I am?”

“Twenty-five.” Killian narrowed his eyes and quickly said, “No. I take that back. Younger than that. Twenty-two, maybe, but you're definitely in your twenties.”

“Really?” She arched one dark brow and her grin widened. She was thoroughly amused by this conversation. “And how long do you think I've been in my twenties?”

“Longer than most.” Killian glanced over his shoulder at the idling limo and lowered his voice. “Tell me.”

“A couple hundred years.” She shrugged. “Give or take. Honestly, after fifty, who's counting? I mean, I don't age. So it doesn't really matter, does it? I stopped aging as soon as I was turned. At least my body did.”

“How did it happen?” Genuine curiosity laced his voice, and his brow furrowed as he folded his arms over his chest. “Your turn? I know that Olivia is your maker but what exactly happened? I'd really like to know.”

“You don't know much about vampires, do you, Mr. Bane?” Sadie swallowed the lump in her throat and the sudden tightening in her gut. What was it about this guy that made her body go haywire? Lots of people had asked about her turn story over the years without ever making her feel this uneasy. “Or vampire etiquette.”

“I know some. Why?”

“Asking a vampire to tell you the story of when they were turned is really personal.” Sadie bit back a moan as his scent grew stronger with each passing second and the tension in her belly loosened. Tension was replaced with simmering desire. “It's not something you tell just anyone.”

“Okay,” he said abruptly. He wagged a finger at her and winked. “You don't have to tell me now, but you'll tell me eventually.”

“Oh really?” Sadie cleared her throat. “That's a hell of an assumption,
Your
Highness
.”

“Yup.” Killian nodded and silence hung between them as a sidelong grin cracked that handsome face. “Now, back to that favor. Will you come to my club and give your honest opinion? How about tomorrow?”

Sadie held his challenging stare as she weighed her options. Saying no would only make her look like a jerk, and it certainly wouldn't do anything to help race relations. Saying yes would give her a chance to check out the competition and it would be politically correct. It was a win-win.

“I can't tomorrow. I have plans.” That wasn't really true. She didn't have anything going on outside of the usual business of the club, but he didn't need to know that. He opened his mouth, probably to ask her what her plans were, but she held up one hand. “Before you ask me what my plans are, I'll just tell you they're none of your concern. The day after tomorrow should work.” She nodded toward the club. “Pick me up here at sundown. I can give you an hour, but then I have to be back here to get my place ready for the night.”

“Great.” Killian tilted his head and smiled before turning around and heading for the limo. Anticipating his arrival, Ivan got out and opened the back door for the prince. Killian lingered in the open door for a moment before he winked and said, “It's a date.”