Chapter Two – Angela
Chapter Two
Angela
As soon as Jack left, Mark made to follow—and Paco tried to stop him.
“Do you work for him or for me?” Mark bellowed.
Paco’s expression went steely, but then he glanced at me before answering. “For you,” he answered, while subtly making it clear he was on my side.
Why was that? He and Jack had history—and I suspected that he knew about Jack being a vampire, maybe even about Rabbit and me. Safe behind Mark’s broad shoulders I nodded quickly, trying to tell him that I, too, was in on Jack’s secret.
“Good,” Mark said. I could feel him folding his temper up, to tuck it back inside. “You two will stay here—I’ll round up some of the other men to drive.”
“No,” I protested. “I have to come with you.”
“Why? That doesn’t make any sense, Angie—you should stay here with Rabbit.”
“I….” I stalled, trying to come up with a reason he’d believe.
“I need to know what I’m getting into. I can’t just drag Rabbit into dealing with criminals.
” The truth was, I couldn’t send Mark into a vampire pit, alone.
Jack was a good man, but he wouldn’t watch out for Mark like I would.
I turned to Paco. “If you stay here, will Rabbit be safe?” I trusted him to tell me the truth.
“I’ll guard him with my life,” Paco said solemnly and I believed him.
“See? Please.” I walked forward and interlaced my fingers with Mark’s. “Whatever decisions we make—I want to make them together.”
At that, Mark relented. “All right. Go get in the car.”
“I’ll send men down to drive and guard you.” Paco reached for his earpiece.
“Thanks,” Mark said curtly, and we were both walking for the front door.
One of Paco’s men held the door of a black sedan open for me and I slid into the back while Mark walked around to the far side. Both of the other men—a guard and a driver—sat up front, one of them always looking at the road, the other looking around, swiveling his head or scanning the mirrors.
If the Pack attacked, some of these men might die—for me. It was an uncomfortable feeling, no matter how well they were being paid. It didn’t seem to bother Mark though, in the least.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” he murmured. His hand found mine and covered it entirely.
“It’s been a long few days.”
“The end’s in sight.”
You can’t know that, I wanted to say, but the words died on my tongue. He lived in a world where if you paid enough money, you could guarantee your safety, eventually, it was just a matter of time. Whereas the world I lived in—I looked out the window. The moon was almost full.
“I meant what I said earlier, Mark.”
“Which part?”
All of it—even the ‘Rabbit and I are werewolves’ part. But I couldn’t say that—or anything about vampires—in front of the other men. “I love you,” I said, after too long a pause.
“I love you, too,” he said, and reached over to pull me toward him, as far as the seatbelts would allow. I unclicked mine—dying in a car crash seemed the least of my current concerns—and snuggled up against him.
The driver pulled us into Vermillion’s lot, parking near Jack’s car. I could feel Mark weighing whether or not he needed the men to come inside with us, deciding against it.
“Stay here—but if anything happens—or if people rush out—”
“We’ll come in.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to bring at least one of them?” I asked, once both car doors were closed.
“This is a business arrangement, between two business people. I’ve played poker with the man prior—I don’t have any reason to believe that he’ll screw me. He just never struck me as someone involved in an underworld organization before.”
I crossed around to reach his side, and we were finally alone. “There’s something I have to tell you,” I said, pulling him to a stop right outside Vermillion’s doors. “And it might change your mind about all this, Mark.” Or make you question my sanity.
“Yeah?”
“The people that work here—the ones that Jack knows….” I left my mouth open, trying to say the words ‘are vampires’ with all my might. But nothing came out. What had happened? Jack had told me not to tell, and somehow I couldn’t anymore?
“What?” Mark gently prompted.
I closed my mouth. Oh no, oh no, oh no. “I just think we should just assume the absolute worst about people, from here on out.”
He gave me a half-smile. “I’m a lawyer. I always do,” he said, and held his arm out for me to take.
We walked into the club side-by-side. The interior was trying to be classy but not quite succeeding—after having been in Mark’s house and in the Fleur, I knew what class truly was.
A broad-shouldered bouncer-type met us after we walked in the door, a little shorter than Mark but he made up for it in width.
Was he a vampire, too? I begged my wolf to come out of her silver-induced haze to help protect me.
“Welcome to Vermillion—what kind of entertainment were you looking for this evening?”
“I’m here to meet Patrick Bjornson.”
The bouncer’s eyebrows subtly rose. “Let me see if I can find him for you,” and he stepped away, putting a hand to his ear. When he returned, he was all smiles. “Of course—you’re expected. He’s had a slight delay in leaving his house—can I take you to a meeting room?”
“Please,” Mark answered for the both of us and as the bouncer turned we followed him in.
The music was loud and pulsing, and there was no way to not see the gorgeous women lounging and strolling on the floor level, or strutting on the stage as we passed it.
A woman came up to us and offered us drinks, ‘On the house!,’ and we both took one to be polite, as we passed through an archway, to a quieter area of the club and at last to a doorway, where he gestured us inside.
“We don’t have traditional meeting rooms, unfortunately—but there’s tables and chairs here,” the bouncer explained.
“And a stage, and a pole,” Mark said, commenting on the rest of the decor.
The bouncer smiled. “Indeed. I’ll be back as soon as Mr. Bjornson arrives.”
“Thanks,” Mark said, tilting his glass at the man before sitting down at a seat where he had a clear view of the door. I sat beside him, putting my untouched glass down. This was as good a place as any to try to begin to explain.
“So about earlier—when I was being awful,” I began.
“When you were stressed and sad,” Mark said, reaching over to squeeze my knee.
“I said some crazy things.”
“Like we all have, in similar situations.”
“Not too many people shout out that they’re werewolves, Mark.”
He snorted. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“No you hadn’t—you don’t forget anything. You were just willing to write it off was all.”
“Like I said, you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
“But what if it was true?” I searched inside myself for the place my wolf usually roamed.
She was there, just—quiet. Sluggish. Like the silver I’d so rashly drank had turned into shackles, weighing her down.
If I couldn’t warn him about vampires, I had to warn him about me.
“Mark,” I said and inhaled, ready to press my case, then the door opened again.
I went quiet and Mark stiffened, in anticipation of Mr. Bjornson’s arrival—but instead the person who walked through was an astoundingly beautiful woman, wearing a short coat tied around her waist and particularly high heels. She flashed both of us a nervous smile.
“Mr. Bjornson said that I should entertain you until he gets here.”
“How kind of him,” Mark said, graciously.
She did a combination of a shrug and a curtsey, and then walked over to the stage, hopping onto it ass first, before swinging her legs up onto it so that she could stand.
She towered over us from her much higher vantage point, red hair cascading over both of her shoulders, and gave both of us a long look before reaching behind her to find the pole.
Mark and I instantly looked at one another and had a conversation with our glances.
It was odd, sure, but nothing about the night had been normal so far—and for all we knew, this strange woman was Mr. Bjornson’s personal secretary…
or daughter. I shrugged, and Mark gave me a lopsided grin.
There were more worrisome things in both our lives than an attractive woman dancing for us.
Except for the other things I knew. “Mark,” I murmured, trying to find words I was allowed to speak.
He took my struggle for nervousness, and tossed an arm around me as music came on with a mesmerizing beat.
The woman grinned at us, wriggled down the pole, spreading her knees, though the shade from her coat hid what lay inside, and then worked her way back up slowly, the pole at her back.
Then she started to circle it lazily, like she was greeting a friend, before grabbing hold of it with both hands to spin around it once, almost half-heartedly, coming down to touch the ground again quickly.
She seemed so awkward I almost felt safe—and then she started singing along with lyrics that matched the beat, I could see her lips moving.
“All eyes on me, me, me, me, me, don’t you want to see, see, see, see, see,” she sang.
After that the pole went from being her stiff dance partner to her friend, as she swung herself up high, tossing her legs around almost the top of it to drop her body down.
Her hands found the ties of her coat as she spun, and within seconds it was released, revealing skin as white as my own, hidden only by the tiniest of deep purple panties and bikini top.