Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(29)



I stumbled backward, almost tripping over the edge of the sofa. “Stop trying to rattle me. I know what you’re trying to do. You want me to fail.”

“Is that so? My job is to make sure that you don’t blow our cover tonight. You might think that’s a swank little dress, but on the night we met, you smelled like the cheap soap they use in public toilets. So I hope this time around, you take a little more care with your appearance. Viktor didn’t flesh out the details, but let me clarify a few things. If you’re painted into a corner and start chatting about our group, you’ll put us all in danger. Maybe you don’t give a shite, but I do. No matter what happens—if they strap you to a train track or dangle you off an airplane wheel—don’t mention names, locations, what we do, or how we like our eggs cooked. You need to develop total fecking amnesia.”

“Don’t let this body fool you, Vamp. I’ve also got brains.”

Christian wasn’t just trying to rattle me; he wanted to sabotage me. I could see in his eyes that he didn’t trust me, and that made him a threat.

Even though Vampires didn’t give off energy like other Breeds, I could have sworn that I felt a magnetic buzz that tingled across my skin. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I didn’t bother to slow down my heart, which was thumping a fraction harder than it had been just a moment before.

But he said nothing, and I left it at nothing.





Chapter 9





That night, I armed myself with a push dagger strapped to my inner thigh. It was small enough that my black dress could conceal it, but there wasn’t room for any other weapons. While daggers were convenient, my fangs and ability to pull energy were the tools I relied on most.

I knocked back the tequila, practically rinsing my mouth out with it. The scented oils from my bath earlier made my legs look spectacular, and I crossed them as I scanned the room.

Christian nodded toward the main entrance. “Now that’s a door of a woman.”

I furrowed my brow at the odd expression and glanced at a woman who could have been a linebacker. “Are you ever nice to people of the female persuasion?”

“Of course I am.” He leaned toward me and pointed. “I was nice to that one, that one, and the bonnie one in the white dress was especially nice to me.”

I blinked in surprise and he laughed, shaking his head and facing forward again.

A waitress appeared and placed a basket of food in front of Christian. “Are you the footlong?”

He slowly turned, undressing her with his eyes. “Ten, actually. But I’ve heard it feels like twelve.”

“And hot dog number three,” she said, setting a basket in front of me and strutting off.

Christian nearly spit out his drink as he looked over at my meal. “Have you got worms? A parasite maybe? I don’t see where you put it all.”

I took a bite, careful not to smudge my lipstick. “I work better when I’m fed.”

“I thought you were too good for bar hot dogs.”

I licked my finger. “If I didn’t have on lipstick, I would have ordered the Angus burger with extra cheese.”

“You could just order the whole heifer.”

We’d arrived early so as not to raise suspicion. It gave me time to hang out, have a few drinks, and mingle, which made me less anxious. Viktor wasn’t sure if Darius’s men would show up, but an hour earlier, Christian’s eyes had slanted toward three men entering the bar. He gave me a subtle nod, and I spent my time assessing the group. I wanted the weak link in the chain, so I first had to figure out who that was and then how to lure him away from his group.

These guys had their sunglasses on, making it impossible for Christian to get close enough. Even if he could, a Vampire didn’t have the ability to charm three people at once since they had to look them directly in the eye. Viktor warned us that outside the bar, they were always on alert, ready to stake or stab anything within a ten-foot radius.

This was the first time I’d sat down with Christian, so we pretended to be strangers who happened to be eating beside each other.

I’d watched him seducing beautiful women for an hour, and they were quite smitten with him. At one point, he’d backed a brunette up against a wall and placed his hand on her hip while whispering in her ear. He looked at her so differently than the way he looked at me, which was usually with cold indifference.

So much for having a guard.

Through process of elimination, I narrowed down the leader to the jerk who kept snapping his fingers at the waitress and pointing at their empty glasses. Out of the other two guys, the little one was my initial target, but he was so shy he’d look away when a woman walked past. Getting him alone would be as easy as bathing a cat.

That left contestant number three, who was tall, dark, and not so handsome. He had a face only a mother could love… after six shots of whiskey. Two missing teeth, a crooked nose, and sweaty.

Oh, how I loathed the sweaty guys. Not the ones with that fine sheen of what I liked to call “man mist” but the ones with fat drops of sweat rolling down their temples, even in a blizzard.

He was attentive with the waitress and admired the women who sauntered past their table. None had given him the green light, so he remained seated. It appeared this guy was searching for an opportunity but didn’t want to take a chance with rejection.

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