Authors: Marianne Morea
Tags: #werewolf, #werewolf and vampire, #werewolf family, #werewolf paranormal romance, #werewolf romance vampire romance paranormal romance thriller urban fantasy, #werewolf romance werewolves and shifters, #werewolf and vampire romance, #cursed by blood series, #urban fantasy suspense, #werewolf saga
“
Armpit?” Her eyebrow
stayed up, but this time for a different reason.
They were walking at a fast clip, and
had reached the end of the construction tunnel. Lily shoved her
hands back into her gloves, and rewound her scarf around her neck
as they stepped back into the wind. Jack spit on the street next to
the curb. “Sweet Cheeks, if you smelled what we smelled, you
wouldn’t be questioning Sean’s description. Armpit is certainly way
more polite a metaphor than I would have given.”
“
First cupcake, now sweet
cheeks? Well, aren’t you the colorful one this evening? Just a
couple of days ago you were all about the city and its diversions,
Jack. What’s the matter? Bored already?”
The wind kicked up refuse from the
street, and a plastic bag flew at them, billowing out and leaking
the dregs of something rank. “Yeah…well even pigs want a break from
their sty now and again,” Jack commented, sidestepping the
foul-smelling projectile.
“
Enough, you two. We’re
here.” Sean’s game face shut them both up, and they each glanced
across the street to the large, warehouse on the corner. The
building was old, its brick frontage as much a throwback to a
bygone era as the matching paving stones set into the street it
occupied. Tall, lead-paned windows had been cut into the structure,
lending to its turn-of-the-century appeal, as did the old
hand-truck ramp demarcated in red velvet rope, leading to the front
door. The establishment’s name blazed in ornate lettering on the
beveled glass doors.
“
The Red Veil?
This
is the home of the
vampire council? Sean, this place was just written up in New York
Magazine. The restaurant is booked solid for six months—and the
club—it’s strictly A-listers only,” Lily said, a little shocked.
“When you said we were heading to the old meatpacking district, I
expected the seedier side, not high-end, red-carpet.”
Sean cracked a smile.
“Nope. Like I said, vampires are narcissistic. Trendy and expensive
is right up their alley. And their lair is right behind
that
alley.”
Lily slipped her hand into Sean’s
pocket, her delicate fingers seemingly fragile beneath his own. Yet
the warmth and pressure of their fingers entwined calmed him, kept
his focus on the task at hand, as they stepped off the curb and
into the unavoidable.
Through the windows, it was obvious
New York’s latest ‘in’ place to see and be seen was packed for the
evening. The Red Veil would serve its patrons until the basement
nightclub by the same name opened its doors at eleven pm—two hours
from now. By New York standards, it was too early for clubbers to
start lining up, but already there was a queue down and around the
alley that led to the club’s main entrance.
Adrenaline coursed through Sean’s
body, despite his outward appearance of calm, the only hint to his
unease, the tight set of his jaw. The next few hours would
determine more than just the course of events for the here and now.
What transpired could lay a foundation of accord between vampires
and Weres everywhere.
Or not.
“
Ladies first,” Sean said,
pulling his hand from his pocket and steering Lily across the
street.
“
Where are they, exactly? I
mean the vampires— they know we’re coming, right?” she asked,
glancing crossways to the restaurant and then back at
Sean.
“
Oh, they know we’re
coming.”
Flanking Lily on her other side, Jack
gave his characteristic snort. “I bet they already know we’re here.
In fact, I bet they’re watching us from tiny peep holes in the
walls.”
“
Jack…”
The younger Were just shrugged, but
his face was wary, despite his humorous bravado. “Well, what do we
do now? Do we just walk into the restaurant and tell the maître d’
we have a reservation with the master? I don’t want to get this
wrong, Sean. You know how vampires are about protocol, and an
angry, insulted fanger is never a good thing.”
“
I’ve got it covered, Jack,
just relax,” Sean said, taking his cell phone from his inside
breast pocket. With one touch, the screen illuminated, and he
scrolled through the choices until he found what he searched for.
His phone beeped once, and immediately instructions were issued via
the speaker in a foreign language.”
“
What the hell kind of
dialect was that?” Jack barked, clearly unnerved.
Sean held a finger to his lips, then
punched a four digit code into his phone and hit send. The screen
went dark, and he stuffed the cell back in his pocket.
“Done.”
Agitated, Jack scuffed his heel
against the curb. “Guess I was absent the day they taught
Transylvanian secret code, huh?” Jack remarked, but before Sean
could reply, an older gentleman stepped through the main doors of
the eatery, and beckoned them forward.
Lily squeezed Sean’s hand. It was show
time.
Chapter
Fourteen
***
Sean entered the building first,
pausing for a fraction of a second before motioning for the others
to follow. The three of them stood in a v-formation just inside the
door, with Sean at the head. His eyes quickly scanned the lobby and
the wide arc of the dining room, noting the emergency exits, before
his gaze shifted to the mahogany reservation desk at the center of
the reception area. It was manned by two pretty hostesses, and
flanked on either side by low curved couches where patrons waited
for their tables to be readied. Drinks in hand, people also queued
along the wide, red carpeted stairs that he assumed led down to the
club. It was game on, and one look from Sean reminded both Lily and
Jack each to keep their thoughts and their comments to
themselves.
The gentlemen nodded for them to wait
between the reservation desk and the coat check off to its left,
while he had his ear pressed to the receiver of one of the house
phones. It wasn’t hard to guess the subject of his one-sided
conversation.
Jack gestured toward the chic,
open-view kitchen centered at the back of the dining room. Tables
hummed with conversation while patrons were treated to a full on
view of white uniformed chefs working at a frenetic pace. The
dining room was as sumptuous as the scent of the food they served,
with its gorgeous trey ceiling and trompe l’oeil murals. It was
Victoriana at its best, and the whole scene was a surreal
counterpoint to the reality of whom and what controlled the
place.
The man hung up the phone, firing off
a string of orders to one of the women standing behind the
reservation desk. The language he spoke sounded too similar to that
of the instructions left on Sean’s phone for it to be coincidence,
and both Lily and Jack exchanged glances. The woman’s eyes darted
toward Sean before a guttural reprimand from the maître d’ made her
jump. She bobbed her head, and scooted behind him through a
concealed door in the wall.
With a clap of his hands, his demeanor
softened, and he turned his attention to Sean. “Welcome to The Red
Veil,” he drawled, addressing Sean directly while his eyes swept
the alpha’s big frame as if accessing his worth. The man inclined
his head in an almost courtly manner, picking up a stack of
reservation cards, and tapping them lightly on the desk. “May we
take your coats?”
His facial pallor and the map of
chalky blue veins ribboning his hands, wrists and throat made it
clear he was a vampire. He held out a stark white hand, patiently
waiting while Sean gathered everyone’s jackets. “I’m afraid you’re
quite early. We weren’t expecting you until midnight.”
Sean ignored Lily’s
mental
‘I told you so’,
instead pasting a polite smile on his lips. “I’m
aware of that… please convey my apologies. As we are unfamiliar
with the ebb and flow of the city’s traffic, we didn’t want to risk
being late.”
The man didn’t comment, but his smug
expression spoke volumes, despite his outward courtesy. He made no
pretext that Sean’s excuse was a complete fabrication. The alpha
had given the devil his due, as was expected, so it was all
good.
The gentleman took the jackets from
Sean, and handed them off to the remaining hostess. “Natasha will
have your coats ready for you here at the end of your visit. In the
meantime, I have been instructed to give you the choice of either
waiting at the bar…” he gestured to a sumptuous lounge visible
through a set of double doors to the right, “…or you are invited to
partake of the V.I.P. activities downstairs. Like Disney, The Red
Veil offers our own version of extra magic hours for special
guests.” The man’s tone made it clear ‘special’ was a relative
term.
The maître d’ stood waiting for an
answer, and though he stood quietly, his nostrils flared and his
tongue darted from his mouth to lick his lips. Sean felt Lily’s
body stiffen in a wave of answering hostility through their shared
mind path. He gave her a swift mental knuckle rap, warning her to
relax. With a polite smile, he inclined his head toward the man
mimicking his courtly style. “I think it’s best if we wait in the
bar until summoned.”
The corner of the man’s lips twitched
in truculent approval, giving them a swift hint of fang in the
process. Now it was Sean’s turn to stiffen. Respect was a two way
street. He was the Alpha of the Brethren, the Were equivalent of
the vampire’s master, and he refused to be intimidated. It was way
too early to play this game, and he certainly wasn’t playing it
with a vamp lackey.
“
Please tell
your
masters, that while
I understand having to wait, due to our early arrival, as Alpha of
the Brethren, I do not expect to be kept waiting past our agreed
upon time.” Sean made sure his underlying censure was heard and
understood, before turning on his heel and walking across the shiny
marble floor toward the bar.
***
“
Don’t just stand there
like an idiot, Jack, follow him.”
Lily’s
voice was insistent as it floated across the common Were thread.
For some reason, the younger wolf was bolted to the floor, and it
took everything she had not to whack him upside the head.
“Sean’s halfway to the bar, what’s the matter
with you? Show of solidarity and governance, remember?”
With a quiet exhale, she brushed past
Jack giving him a subtle elbow, finally waking him up.
“
What the hell was that?
Did the maître d’ glamor you or something?” she murmured under her
breath, when they were far enough away from prying ears. Not that
the vamp couldn’t hear them from the other side of the street, let
alone the other side of the room.
The corners of Jack’s mouth pulled
down, and he glanced back over his shoulder as they walked toward
the bar. “No. Forget it.”
“
Jack, we just got here. If
you’re going to freeze up, maybe you’d better take off now before
things get, well, however they may get.”
He grabbed her arm pulling her to a
standstill, the differences in their height and body size making
the move nothing short of intimidating. “Don’t forget whose bitch
you are. You might be able to pull that crap with Sean, but not
with me.” His tone was clipped and ugly, but now was neither the
time nor the place to make a big deal out of it, and Lily just shot
him a warning look.
With a quiet sigh, he glanced up at
the ceiling, and when his eyes met hers again, they were softer.
“Look, joking around is one thing, but you forget I’m a full Were,
and I’m a hunter. If I pause because I sense something, don’t
interrupt me, and never assume I hesitate out of fear.”
A wash of guilt sent heat flooding
into her cheeks. He was right. She shouldn’t have assumed. Lily put
her hands on her hips, careful to keep her voice low. “Did you
sense something?”
“
Perhaps.”
She exhaled, her eyes taking in his
face and eyes. He was being evasive again, but she wasn’t going to
push the issue. “Something disturbed you back there, and it wasn’t
just my mouth. I can feel it. If you don’t want to tell me, fine,
but I think you’d better tell Sean.”
His mouth puckered. “I plan to, when I
have more to tell him. In the meantime, remember what I said.” Jack
pushed past her, and walked into the bar.
She trailed in after, skimming the
room for Sean. The place was photo-shoot worthy, with its intimate
booths and polished pub tables. Club chairs were situated in groups
of two beneath the tall windows, the paned glass draped in
translucent veils of varying shades of crimson. Flocking damask in
the same cerise hues covered the chairs, their patterns harkening
back more than a century, like the heavy dark woods and rich
accents throughout the place.
Lily slid into the booth at the
farthest back corner beside Sean, while Jack chose to belly up to
the bar.
“
Everything okay?” Sean
asked, cocking his head suspiciously.
She nodded her answer, not trusting
herself to open her mouth. Jack said he would tell Sean when he had
more to say, and she’d take him at his word.
“
You sure?”
She nodded again, drawing in a quick
breath through her nose. “Yeah, I’m good. You know how I get when I
have to wait.” She flashed him a quick smile, hoping it would be
enough for him not to press the issue.