Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(55)

“Maybe. Clients come and go.” Claude put on his stylish leather jacket and stood up. “I’ll wait outside so I can warm up the car.”

When I got up to leave, Christian remained seated. I tapped my black fingernail on the table. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Give me a minute.”

As I slowly headed to the back door, I glimpsed Christian placing more hundreds on the table than I could count. Curious, I walked at a snail’s pace to the van, my eyes fixed on the window as Betty came into view and sat down in front of him. He leaned in a little and did all the talking.

“What’s that about?” Claude said from his rolled-down window.

“I don’t know.” I leaned against his red Porsche and hugged my body from the cold. “I wish I’d taken something from the Mage’s apartment for you to sniff. Can you really make a positive ID from a pillow or a sock?”

Claude’s lower canines grew in length and made him look like a tiger. His voice lowered an octave, rumbling in the back of his throat. “I own his scent. Do you know what that means to a Chitah? It’s burned in my memory forever. We imprint the ones we love and our enemies. That means we never forget.”

“But he’s not really your enemy.”

“Any male who slays a female is my enemy.”

We watched Christian emerge from the diner, his breath clouding the frosty air. Claude revved the engine of his red sports car and sped off.

“Change your mind on that pie?” I asked.

Christian approached the van and opened the door on the passenger side. Once I climbed in, I blocked the door to keep him from shutting it. “I changed my mind.”

He tilted his head to the side. “About?”

“Seeing my father. After witnessing Shepherd’s meltdown, I don’t want that to be me someday because I reopened a door to my past. It might make things worse, and I’m not sure if I could live with that.”

“Does it feel like the right thing to do?”

I swung my gaze back to the diner. I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I’d been so convinced that seeing my father would help me move on, but after watching one of the toughest guys in the house threaten to defy Viktor and lose everything he’d worked hard for, I began to wonder. What if seeing my father devastated me in ways I’d never recover from?

“I’m not sure what the right thing even means, Christian.”

“Then hold that favor in your pocket. Just don’t use it to make me take over your cooking rotation. I’m not a chef.”

I laughed. “I thought cooking potatoes was in the How to Be an Irishman manual.”

He stared vacantly at the diner and chewed on his bottom lip. “Betty won’t be giving me the evil eye anymore.”

My smile withered. “What do you mean?”

“I did what I should have done a long time ago. I scrubbed her past memories of me as best I could—of every time I could remember that we’d talked. Of every Irishman she’d ever spoken to so that my accent won’t trigger something in her mind.”

“Even today?”

“Only our private conversation we had just now, but not the dinner. That would be confusing if you mentioned me around her.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“That’s funny to you?”

Christian gripped the doorframe. “She thinks we’re an item.”

I blinked in surprise. “What did she say?”

“That she liked your Asian friend better. I still left her the thousand-dollar tip.”

He shut the door and slowly strolled around the van.

“You’re not such a bad guy after all. For a Vampire,” I said quietly.

Christian flicked a glance at me, but I didn’t look away. I’d meant for him to hear the compliment.

And he deserved to hear it.



Claude arrived at Nine Circles of Hell ahead of us and claimed a table in a private area of the main room. The vibe was different with rap and sexy dance songs playing. Women were misbehaving on the dance floor with their high heels, skintight dresses, and enough sexuality to set the club on fire. In the Breed world, people had no real concept of time. Many were wealthy and didn’t have jobs, and Vampires never slept.

I carefully studied every face I passed. Chitahs, Vampires, men with hair down to their waist, others with shaved heads. But none had the signature blond hair of my friend Chaos. Christian nodded for me to look in all the rooms, so I weaved through the crowd, staring at one unfamiliar face after another. One man tried to put his arm around me, and when I shoved him away, a Chitah took that as his cue to jump in and instigate a fight.

That was in the wrath room.

Men were less aggressive in the lust room, but one of them actually looked back and forth at my mismatched eyes and flinched before turning away.

Idiot.

“Well?” Claude asked, stretching his right arm across the empty space beside him in the booth.

I looked across the table at Christian, who mirrored Claude’s body language down to the amount of space he left for me to sit. “I didn’t see him.”

“Have a seat,” Christian offered, patting the back of the booth.

“I prefer to stand.”

Claude gestured to the open space next to him. “Come and sit, female. We might be waiting a long time.”