Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(26)
I snatched Christian’s lollipop from his mouth. “Come on, Vamp. I need a chauffeur.”
“You need a lobotomy.”
“Mind if I join you?” Niko asked, rising from the table.
Viktor wiped his short beard with a napkin. “If you feel justified treating Kira rudely by leaving all this good food on the table, then by all means go.”
Niko bowed. “Please tell her I mean no offense. And I have my suspicions there won’t be a crumb left to complain over.”
“More for me,” Wyatt cheered around a mouthful of food. “Bye-bye now. Shep, why don’t you join them?”
But Shepherd was eyeing a second piece of steak as he finished his first. And these were thick cuts not meant for any one man to consume in such a short time. Then again, Shepherd was no ordinary man.
In one day, Kira had won over the team. I wasn’t sure where Blue stood, but no one raised any questions about Kira’s past or why she wanted to seclude herself from the world. She proved she could be invisible, doing her job quietly and stepping away. I wondered how much Viktor had told her about Keystone, but it wouldn’t take her long to figure out what we did for a living.
Only then would we have the answer to our question—could she be trusted?
Chapter 7
Club High Jinx wasn’t especially busy at noon. Humans didn’t party day and night like Breed, so the early crowd showed up for lunch and a little music. What I liked about it were all the dark corners that made it easier to hide and watch people. The lights remained low, and every so often, laser lights would flash from the ceiling. It must have been a busy place during peak hours. Tables surrounded three sides of the dance floor. People didn’t come here for the food. They came to grind against each other like animals in heat.
We settled down at a tall table to soak up our surroundings. I glanced over at a group of women having drinks at a nearby table. They were clearly into mysterious men who wore mirrored sunglasses in dark clubs. Niko was uniquely handsome. I was certain he was of mixed Japanese descent, if his blue eyes were anything to go by, and most women couldn’t take their eyes off a man with long hair.
“You should take a short walk to the table behind you and talk to those girls,” I said to Niko. “They keep checking you out.”
He sipped his tonic water. “I have no interest in humans.”
“You have no interest in anyone,” I muttered, turning the page of the newspaper we’d bought on the way over.
Christian, still standing, rested his forearms on the table to flex his biceps. His painted-on black T-shirt with a wide V-neck showed off his flawless skin, its warm undertones, and the light dusting of dark hair on his forearms. If you looked at his complexion long enough, it was all you could do not to touch it.
“I didn’t think they made those anymore,” Christian remarked at the busty waitress who sauntered by.
“Implants never go out of style,” I remarked.
I could feel his look.
He tapped his finger on the table. “I meant the fecking newspaper. Thought all you modern kids read your news on the phone.”
“As it so happens, I love newspapers. The smell, the feel—the way the paper sounds when you turn the page. My dad used to let me read the comics, but I always liked the obituaries.”
“You’re an oddity.”
Maybe I was, but my father had written the best obituary ever for my mother. I hadn’t known about it until I was snooping through his things and accidentally found the clipping. After that, I began reading the obituaries. But no one had ever written anything as genuine and real as what my daddy had written for his one and only love.
“Say what you want, but I like all the nice things that people say when someone dies.”
He leaned over and peered at my paper. “See anyone you know? I’d wager you put half of them in there.”
“These are the classifieds. I’m looking for a car. Something that speaks to my soul.”
He pointed at an ad. “This one has no transmission. You’re practically soul mates.”
While I couldn’t hear it over the music, a vibration rumbled in my stomach. “I should have ordered the mozzarella sticks.”
Christian abruptly got up and left the table.
I played with the ruby heart around my neck and stared at Niko. He’d kept his cloak on the whole time to conceal the katana on his waist.
I pondered over what he had revealed about his past. An early life enslaved, a slain Creator, and no choice but to band with murderers as a means to survive. I recalled how surprised Cyrus was to learn Niko had become a capable, independent warrior. What in the world was life like a thousand years ago? A blind man would have been lost without guidance.
Years of struggle I’d never fully understand.
Christian reappeared with a basket of mozzarella sticks and set them in front of me.
“Where did you get those?”
“Leftovers,” he said, pointing to a table filled with empty glasses and food baskets.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’d eaten unwanted food. Besides, I had bigger concerns at the moment than cooties. I took a bite and wrinkled my nose. “They’re cold.”
“Jaysus wept. Children are starving, and you want your cheese heated up.”