Shadow's Claim (Immortals After Dark #13)(120)

“And speaking of on the house,” Sabine said, raising her glass, “all my jewels are going to be free until my sister is free.”

“Do you want our fledgling enterprise to go tits-up?” Salem sputtered. “It’s called cost, sorceress. . . .” He trailed off. “Oi! I see my contact. I’ll just go have a quick chin-wag, then.”

Before Bettina could ask more, he’d ghosted away.

“I do like your phantom’s greedy bent,” Sabine said without a thread of sarcasm. “Such a pleasantly mercenary fellow.” She scanned the room once again, meeting eyes with that older wolf at the bar.

The Lykae cast his boisterous companions a warning look, then started wending through the crowd toward her.

Not surprising. Sabine was magnetic.

But a couple of those younger Lykae even raised their glasses to Bettina. She waved and smiled, musing, Why couldn’t I have fallen for a hot young Scot?

An uncomplicated pup who liked to fetch rugby balls?

When the Lykae reached their table and sank his towering frame into a chair beside Sabine, the sorceress barely quirked an eyebrow. “Munro MacRieve, as I live and breathe.”

She knew this gorgeous wolf? He was darkly attractive, with overtly masculine features and molten amber eyes. But his expression was severe. He looked as troubled as Cas had the day he’d left Rune.

Munro inclined his head to Sabine. “Sorceress.” Then he indicated Bettina with a sexy lift of his chin. “And you are?”

“Queen Bettina of the Deathly Ones.” That would never get old.

Munro gave her a nod, then turned to Sabine. “You’ve still no’ found your sister?” he asked with a marked Scottish accent.

Yes, Bettina needed a hot young Scot with a brogue. And soon. The unfortunate part about discovering sex?

Craving it constantly, even when there was no chance of having any.

She decided that if she ever got over Daciano, she was going to put some feelers out.

Sabine gave a curt shake of her head. “My sister’s still missing,” she said with a pointed glare at Bettina. “We’re hoping for an assist from N?x.”

“All the best with that. I’ve been hunting her up and down this realm. Heard there’s a bluidy mile-long sign-up sheet for her. No, really, it’s supposed to be over five thousand feet long.”

“You seek help with your twin?” Sabine asked. A male that handsome has a twin? “From what I heard, Uilleam’s not exactly rebounding from his torture.”

An expression of pain flashed over the Lykae’s face, his amber eyes flickering the lightest blue. “No, Will has no’ yet recovered.”

Bettina knew that an order of evil humans had abducted and experimented on hundreds of immortals before all their prisoners had escaped. Had Sabine’s sister Melanthe been tortured as well?

Sabine and Munro began speaking in more hushed tones about their siblings. Feeling like an eavesdropper, Bettina turned her chair to survey the denizens of the bar, members of the great Vertas army. There were so many interesting species inside, so much color and spectacle.

But her attention was unerringly drawn to the back, where couples necked on myriad couches. A demon and a nymph were getting particularly busy with wandering hands and long, wet kisses.

Daciano had been an incredible kisser, those firm lips of his so talented. She sighed. Who was she kidding? She was never getting over him.

She’d cleaved.

As ever, she wondered what he was doing. Would he have tried to return to his homeland? Or would he strike out and start a new life altogether?

Nothing was stopping him from finding another female, from wedding another. If she’d thought she’d been jealous over Caspion, the idea of Daciano making love to some gorgeous vampiress made her power flare uncontrollably.

Before Bettina could rein it in, her hands lit up. Her own rattle rattle. Great. Unintentional sorcery use on the mortal plane. “Sabine, we need to start wrapping up here.” Bettina might be prepared to face down Vrekeners if push came to shove, but she’d rather avoid it. “I’ve got to get back to Abaddon.”

Even Sabine, who’d warred with the Vrekeners for centuries, gave them a wide berth. Or at least she had, before Lanthe had been taken.

Munro turned to Bettina with a narrowed gaze and a flash of recognition. “Did you say Abaddon?”

Oh, boy, I can guess where this is going. It seemed like everyone in the Lore had heard about the tournament. “I did.”

At once, his irises glowed that eerie blue. “My clan’s heard tales of what goes on in your demonarchy,” he grated. “One of our own was beheaded there, no? One newly turned?”

“Yes,” Bettina said simply, a habit learned by a vampire.

“Turned human or no, he possessed the Instinct. That made him our brother.”

With a pang, Bettina recalled that Lykae’s last word: Brother.

Munro bit out, “Any reason we shouldn’t retaliate against Abaddon?”

“That male was entered into an irrevocable blood contract,” Bettina said in a steady tone, her palms beginning to glow under the table, power at the ready; Munro dashed a hand over his chest, no doubt wondering why his heart had stuttered. “After that, there was nothing we could do.”

Sabine was watching this exchange like a demon at a kobold toss.