The Viper's Nest (Kit Davenport #4)(69)

Sent Vali after you but told him to keep his distance when he gets there. Understand your need for space, and we are here for you when you’re ready to come home.

Running my thumb over the screen, I reread the message a couple of times before powering off my phone to end another call from Caleb that had started ringing through.

Home. When I’m ready to come home. Seemed like such a strange concept to consider the hotel suite home, but I knew that wasn’t what River meant. Home was wherever my guys were, regardless of if that was a hotel suite in Los Angeles or a mountain cabin in Washington.

Tucking the phone back into my pocket, I yawned and took a sip of my long island iced tea. The first mouthful was a shock, sour and acidic and very strong. But a few more sips had me loving it. That bartender really knew her shit.

“Hey, sweet thing.” A greasy-looking guy sauntered up to my table with a smarmy look on his face. “You here all alone? Maybe I should keep you company?” He punctuated this suggestion with a lewd cupping of his genitals through his pants. Just in case I missed the implication.

My eyes narrowed at him. “Maybe you should back the hell off, buddy. I’m not looking to score, so trot on back to your friends. This one is a strikeout.”

The man’s expression twisted into something nasty, and he sneered at me. “You look like a frigid bitch anyway; I was just trying to do you a favor. Loosen up that stick in your ass.”

I heaved a sigh. “I’ll tell you one more time. Fuck. Right. Off. Clear?”

The guy curled his lip at me in disgust but, thankfully, retreated back to his table of friends who were howling with laughter across the room. Getting hit on by creepy dudes who reeked of bourbon from ten feet away was not my idea of a good night out, even if I had been here for a “good time.”

“Excuse me, miss?” Another male voice intruded on my thoughts, and a finger tapped on my shoulder. Groaning, I turned in my seat to tell this guy where to shove his propositions, but the words froze in my throat.

“Mr. Gregoric?” I squeaked in surprise. “What—”

“Nicholai,” he corrected me with a smile. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Ah, sure.” I blinked at him in confusion but waited while he dragged a chair from another table and sat opposite me.

“‘Mr. Gregoric’ never really sat right with me, you know? I doubt I’ll ever try my hand at teaching again. High school students are psychotic; don’t you agree?” He smiled at me like we had actually arranged to meet for a drink and small talk. “Then again, it’s been a great many years since I myself was a teenager, so perhaps I have just forgotten.”

“What,” I tried again, “the fuck are you doing here, Nicholai? The last time we saw you was in Harrow after Gray and his men tried to kidnap all the shifter babies.”

He grimaced and took a sip of his own drink that he’d brought to the table with him. “Nasty business, that. I understand Richard has since been dealt with, though?”

Richard. I bit my tongue to suppress a shiver of revulsion and fear. Richard Liath was Gray’s real name, and just the mention of him made me want to empty my stomach onto the table. His face still haunted my dreams, so Wesley had been helping me by giving me other dreams instead. Safe, boring dreams with butterflies and puppies—the kind of sugar-coated, candy normality my real life had never possessed. I loved them.

Until recently, that was. His issues with the other dream-walker had really thrown a wrench into the works with that plan. Now I was finding myself waking in a cold sweat, feeling the phantom pain of my toenails being torn from my flesh or the crack of my ribs under Gray’s heavy fists.

“He’s been dealt with, yes,” I choked out, taking a long sip of my drink to try and clear the sour taste from my mouth. Denial and avoidance were my friends, and so long as I could avoid the subject of my abuser, I was good.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Granny Winter will be pleased.” Nicholai smiled at me again, and I frowned in return. What the hell was going on?

“Are you going to answer my question?” I prompted him. “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even find me in this random bar in the middle of LA?”

He pursed his lips and stared back at me for a long moment. He was a good-looking guy, no doubt about that, but there was something... shady about him. Like he was constantly playing both sides to the point where he himself had no idea where his allegiance lay.

“I have someone who wants to meet you,” he announced finally, and my eyebrows shot up. That wasn’t quite what I’d expected. I didn’t know what I’d expected.

“Oh? And you decided to track me down... here... to tell me this? I’m sure you can appreciate, Nicholai, something smells like shit.” I gave him a shrewd glare. “So out with it. I have had e-fucking-nough of riddles and half-truths to last me a lifetime.”

Snatching my drink from the table, I leaned back in my seat and took a long sip on my straw. Disappointingly, my glass was almost empty already, and I frowned at the naked ice cubes.

“I already ordered you another.” The sketchy fox-shifter grinned, just as a waitress appeared, placing a full long island iced tea on the table in front of me.

I pursed my lips and eyed the drink skeptically, but when I glanced over to the bar, my friendly, green dreadlocked bartender gave me a nod of assurance.