The Curse (Belador #3)(19)
No Fae allowed now, thus the reason for the tongue-in-cheek name Iron Casket, since Fae majik supposedly would not work around iron, and Deek would kill anyone who broke his rules.
Calling this crowd Goth would sound too homogenized for the creative types that packed the dance floor, crowded the bar and filled dark pockets everywhere.
Waitstaff circled the room carrying casket-shaped trays filled with drinks in crystal glasses. Evalle waved off two before a familiar voice close behind her said, “Don’t you ever dress for going out?”
“Some of us have to work,” she said, turning to find Tristan, who had taken his wardrobe for tonight more seriously than she had. He wore a long-sleeved, button-down shirt in a saturated bloodred color, black dress pants and dark sunglasses. He’d wised up after a month in civilization, now hiding his Alterant-green eyes at night, even though his eyes weren’t light sensitive and he didn’t have natural night vision like hers. His blond hair had grown out, brushing his collar.
Women passing by gave him looks filled with erotic offers.
He returned their smiles, the rogue, telling Evalle, “Like you ever wear anything different for work or play? Oh, wait, that would require having a playful bone in your body, right?”
He could save his breath at trying so hard to get under her skin. Just by saying hello, Tristan could irritate her more than poison ivy on intimate body parts. “I might enjoy a night off and expand my wardrobe if I didn’t have to spend my time tracking down losers like you. Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer any of my telepathic calls until now?”
His gaze tracked past her, sweeping over the room. “We can’t discuss this here. Follow me.”
“No way.”
He shot her a glance lacking patience. “I’ve got a private room upstairs so we can talk. You know I’m not going to pull anything in Deek’s place.”
No, she didn’t know that, if he and Deek had become friends. Before asking him her next question, she tapped into her empathic sense for something that might help her determine his intent. Her empathic gift was still new to her, but she often picked up something useful. “You know Deek well?”
“I know of him. I hear he’s dangerous to cross and has zero tolerance when it comes to using any powers or majik in this place. I don’t know what he is, but just his reputation sounds deadly. I’m not crossing him.”
Tristan’s usual arrogance came through perfectly clear, but mixed in with it had been a healthy dose of respect when he mentioned Deek.
Most nonhumans feared Deek for good reason, and she doubted anything intimidated the centaur, but as long as you played by his rules in this club, Deek wouldn’t touch you.
Break a rule and you were fair game.
Feeling better about going upstairs, Evalle gave Tristan a nod to lead the way. At the second level, he directed her to an alcove with a plush love-seat-size sofa, two cushy side chairs and a low glass coffee table. Sparkling translucent silver curtains pulled back with gold-and-silver cords framed each side of the opening.
The waiter who stepped out from a dark hallway had nickel-size, black earrings, a pin through his nose, a skull-patterned scarf that hung to his waist and gorgeous tats climbing one arm. He carried a tray with a mixed drink, bottled water and a bowl of fried calamari.
Once the waiter left, Evalle snagged the bottle of water and took a side chair, angling it so that she could see anyone approaching.
Tristan took up most of the sofa, spreading his arms. “You like calamari, right?”
“I can take it or leave it.” Right now she wanted to take all of it. Her mouth watered. “Where’re you getting money?”
“Eat, Evalle. Unless your life has changed drastically, you still run on fury and determination. I ate before I came here and the money is from a friend who’s helping me.”
No point in wasting the food. She dug in, practically moaning over the flavor. Deek prided himself on having the best of everything.
Tristan lifted his chin in the direction of the area outside their alcove. “I was told these rooms are soundproof even with the curtains open.”
“I doubt anyone could hear us yelling in here with that music going on.” But she had to give Deek credit for his design or whatever he did that made it possible to talk at a normal level in this pocket. She sat back, tapping her finger on the chair arm. “Okay, what gives? I know better than to think you contacted me only for my benefit. Not after leaving me to face the Tribunal empty-handed after I saved your butt.”
“That was unfortunate—”
“Unfortunate? No, no.” Evalle sat forward. “Getting a speeding ticket is unfortunate. Losing your wallet is unfortunate. Getting locked away forever in VIPER prison is more like being castrated with a dull knife and no morphine.”
Tristan flinched hard at that. “Looks like you got yourself out of jail.”
“No thanks to you.”
Tristan ran his fingers through his hair and looked away. When he turned back to her, he actually appeared remorseful. “Later on, I thought about everything that happened that night and realized you might not have called in that bunch of military guys to kill us.”
“You mean Isak Nyght’s men? You should have realized the truth the minute I blocked for you so you could escape.” Isak Nyght hunted Alterants and gave a standing shoot-to-kill order to his men, all former military.