Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
WHEN THE CRUST CRUMBLES
I’m drumming my fingers on the table in front of me, my face the epitome of boredom, while Angelo is droning on and on about how his lackey hadn’t known about our arrangement and why he broke the cardinal rule of killing across territory lines.
I may appear bored, but in reality I’m studying every inch of his two pathetic bodyguards for weaknesses, tempted to simply kill and dispose of them, merely to prove a point.
Fucking fang political bullshit. It’s always the same.
Who has the bigger limp dick?
Who has more power to gain?
Who has lived longer? Or un-lived in our kind’s case.
Who has something the other wants?
It’s always about feeling bigger and badder than everyone else.
In the end, I always show my fangs are sharper.
And Angelo?
He’s the slimiest of them all.
Always doing fishy deals under the table and using vague details to rope in unsuspecting victims.
Always killing first and doing damage control later. Always using others to carry out the shady bullshit he wants so he is above reproach.
And apparently business is booming, because Angelo and his men are showing signs of over-consumption—the balding hair, the red eyes, the sickly pale skin.
Fucking power hungry worm. He’s the reason our kind has a bad reputation.
“So, you see, we needed to go after him. He broke the rules of his contract and my sources discovered he was hiding out on your territory. You know how it is when you’re locked on prey in the middle of a hunt. Nothing else matters.”
His beady red eyes never quite reach mine. Good. I’d take that as a sign of a challenge.
“Jorge didn’t even notice he had crossed boundaries before he caught up to him.”
I stop drumming my fingers and straighten in my chair. Enough of this shit. Angelo needs to go back to his dark gloomy hole so I can resume business as usual without his slimy eyes trying to spy on my every move.
He may be good at politics, but he makes a shit spy. I know the only reason he decided to come here in person was the hope of catching a glimpse at my operations. See if he can find a weakness or a way to one-up me.
Not a chance.
I’m secretive for a reason.
“What are you offering as payment?” I growl at him, done with hearing him prattle on.
“I—what?” He splutters, losing his composure.
“For breaking our agreement and killing on my land. What are you offering for your transgression?” I speak slowly and clearly, not hiding the fact that I find him below me and rather stupid.
“I was coming here to offer my sincere apologies. I didn’t—”
I growl again, cutting him off. That’s it, I’m out of patience. Enough politics for today.
“Send me ten of your blood-bounds and we’ll call it even.” My tone brokers no room for compromise. I’m done negotiating. You have to be hard and direct with this prick. He likes to wriggle his way in if he thinks there’s room. No fucking way that’s happening.
“Ten! That worm was barely worth two!” Angelo’s outraged cry makes my eye twitch.
My fists clench with the need to slam into his face and break his jaw, but I refrain. Barely.
“Ten,” I repeat, voice cool and collected. “I want them here by Friday. And I’ll even let your two side muscles walk out of here unscathed. That’s a generous offer, Angelo. I urge you to take it.”
Angelo opens his mouth to no doubt object, again, when the bell above the front door rings, signaling the arrival of new comers. Except no one ever uses the front door. No one except a certain pretty flower who has now shown up twice soaked to the bone.
All heads snap up as the fresh scent of humans fills the small space, overtaking the smell of pizza and cleaning supplies that usually permeates the air.
An unfamiliar male scent tangles with the deliciously irresistible fragrance I already know too well—flowers drenched in syrupy, decadent blood.
The realization hits like a punch to the throat.
Someone has been touching my flower.
Fuck.
Daisy.
What the fuck is she doing here again?
And a third night in a row?
Does she not have any self-preservation at all?
Angelo inhales deeply, his two lackeys following suit, and a low possessive growl rumbles out of my throat before I can stop it. Shit.
Shit.
Here she is, this time not wet at all, with some human pretty boy with his arm around her shoulders. She’s laughing at him in a familiar way, looking quite cozy, as if she lets him touch her like this often.
What.
The.
Fangy Fuck.
Fury like I’ve never felt before whips through me in a tsunami wave and I’m out of my chair and in front of the human before he even knows what hit him.
“Whoa, sorry man, didn’t see you there-–” My hand shoots out to grab his throat before he can utter another sound. The dark predator part of me enjoys the way he gurgles and his eyes widen in fear.
I lift him, making sure he can’t touch the ground, and watch with sick satisfaction as his face turns a deep shade of purple. A smirk spreads across my lips at the lovely aroma of fear.
This little shit will not be touching what’s mine again.
A small gasp sounds from my right and a wave of fresh flowers promising decadent blood hits me square in the face, making my eyes close and my nostrils flare. A pang of hunger starts low in my stomach but quickly morphs into something else, something more, as it travels lower.
A small hand grips my forearm where I have the puny purplish human by the throat and I open my eyes only to be ensnared by a brown gaze with purple flecks that has haunted my every moment in the last two days.
“Why did you come back again, Daisy Love?” I ask, my voice coming out in a low rumble, and the words distorted a bit with my fangs lengthening.
“Please let go of him.” Her voice is soft, like she’s afraid raising it may make me angry.
Oh, how little does she know.
I wonder for a second what this human is worth to her and what she’d be willing to bargain to have me let him live, but that’s not how I do business. That’s more of a dickface Angelo move.
Shit. Angelo. The slimeball is still here. And now he’s seen and scented my little daisy.
The human falls from my grasp as soon as I loosen my fingers and I turn back to where I left the asshat vampire and his lackeys.
All three are now standing, their fangs in full display, nostrils flaring.
Their sickly glowing red eyes are locked on Daisy.
I shift my position, baring my fangs, making sure she’s behind me.
Fuck.
She smells too good.
She’ll be instant prey.
I hear the human boy coughing and wheezing beside her.
“Go. Now,” I hiss at Daisy, my fangs making it hard to enunciate.
Angelo hisses at the other two and I don’t have time to see if she listens before the two lackeys lunge at me in a blur of movement and all hell breaks loose.