Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood #8)(14)

from Trez and iAm was more important than knuckle busting whatever

slayer was hanging back in the shadows.

With vengeance flowing thick in his veins, John dematerialized into

thin air and took form again in the parking lot of Sal's restaurant. There were no cars around and the lights that usually shone up on the outside of the brick building were off.

The double doors under the porte cochere opened right away and

Qhuinn stuck his head out. "What the hell took you so long?"

Paranoia, John thought.

Double-checked my weapons, he signed as he walked over.

"You could have asked me to wait. Or done it here."

Yes, Mother.

The inside of the place was done in old-school Rat Pack with red

flocked wallpaper and plush carpeting as far as the eye could see. Everything from the club chairs to the linen-covered tables to the plates and silverware was a reproduction of what had been around in the sixties and the vibe was 46

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Dean Martin redux: smooth, rich, and Sands Casino classy.

Ol' Blue Eyes was even singing "Fly Me to the Moon . "

The overhead speakers would probably refuse anything else.

The three of them walked past the hostess stand and into the bar room, where the pungent aroma of cigars lingered in spite of New York's

antismoking laws. Blay went back behind the teak counter to fix himself a Coke, and John walked around, hands on hips, eyes on the marble floor, path delineated by the leather booths that were arranged around the space.

Qhuinn took a seat in one of them. "They told us to hang and make a drink. They're coming out in a sec--"

At that moment, from the staff-only room in back, a thump-thump and a groan cut into Sinatra's scooby-doo's. With a curse, John followed

Qhuinn's lead and parked it across from the guy. If the Shadows were

working some POS out, they were likely to be longer than a second.

As Qhuinn stretched his legs under the black table and cracked his

back, he was still glowing, his cheeks flushed from exertion, his lips swollen from kissing. For a moment, John was tempted to ask why the guy insisted on f*cking people in front of Blay, but he canned the Q as he stared at the red tear that was tatted on the guy's cheek.

How else was the bastard going to get laid? He was literally joined at the hip with John and all they did was go out and fight . . . with Blay a member of their team.

Blay came over with his Coke, sat next to John, and stayed quiet.

Awkward much, John thought as none of them said a thing.

Ten minutes later, the door marked STAFF ONLY swung wide and

Trez came in from the back. "Sorry about the wait." He grabbed a hand towel from behind the bar and wiped the blood from his knuckles. "iAm's just dumping some trash in the alley. He'll be right in."

John signed, Do we know anything?

After Qhuinn translated, Trez's brows dropped and the Shadow's eyes

grew calculating. "About what."

"Xhex," Qhuinn said.

Trez made elaborate work out of refolding the now red-stained towel.

"Last thing I knew, Rehv was living at the compound with you."

"He is."

The Shadow planted his palms on the teak and leaned in, his shoulder

muscles bunching up thick. "So why do you have to ask me about her search and rescue."

You know her very well, John signed.

After the translation, Trez's dark eyes flashed bright green. "I do. She 47

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is a sister, though not of mine blood."

So what's the problem? John signed.

As Qhuinn hesitated, like he wanted to be sure John really needed to

say that to a Shadow, John motioned for the guy to get talking.

Qhuinn shook his head a little. "He said he understands that. He just wants to make sure all avenues are covered."

"Word up, I don't think that's what he signed." Trez's smile was cold.

"And here's my problem. You coming here and being all what's-up suggests you and your king don't trust Rehv to tell you where it's at--or you don't think he's busting his balls to find her. And you know . . . that shit don't fly with me."

iAm came in through the staff door and just nodded as he stepped up

to his brother--which was about as much welcome as you ever got from him.

He didn't spare words. Or punches, going by how much blood had stained his gray T-shirt. And the guy didn't ask for a recap of the convo thus far. He seemed to be fully up to speed, which meant either he'd seen something on a security camera in the back, or he was accurately reading the tension in his brother's powerful body.

We didn't come here to fight or offend, John signed. We just want to find her.

There was a pause after Qhuinn did his bit. And then Trez asked the

sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. "Your king know you're here?"

When John shook his head, Trez narrowed his eyes even further. "And what precisely do you expect to get from us?"

Anything you know or believe to be true about where Xhex is. And any information on the drug trade here in Caldwell. He waited for Qhuinn to catch up, then continued. Assuming Rehv is right and Lash was the one knocking off those dealers in town, then it's damn obvious that he and the Lessening Society will fill the void they created. Another pause for Qhuinn.