Reborn (Shadow Falls: After Dark #1)(94)

The boisterous voices seeping out of the bar stopped when she and Chase landed. Della spotted a couple, limbs wrapped around each other, behind a group of trees. Two lovers? Or was it one of the girls selling her body? The idea knotted Della’s stomach.

“The gang’s here,” Chase said in a low whisper.

She nodded.

“Stay close,” he said.

She made a face and they continued toward the door. The room seemed darker, as if the crowd of vampires had sucked the light out of the room. All the dark auras, Della thought, and inhaled, trying to see if her sense of smell had returned. Nope.

“Over there,” Chase said, pointing to an empty table.

Della felt all twenty pairs of eyes on her. Jeepers, if things went wrong, she and Chase would be pushing up daisies. A chill moved under her sweater, telling her that her temperature still wasn’t right. But now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

The bartender, the same one from the night before, came strolling over. “What’s your liking tonight? I got some B positive. It goes down good with a splash of Jack.”

“We’ll take the blood straight up,” Della said, not wanting alcohol involved. They were going to need all their wits about them tonight.

The bartender nodded and walked off. She took a glance around the room and discovered not all the patrons were vampires. She picked out a few werewolves and warlocks sitting among them. So, not everyone here was part of the gang. When Della came to one table of four, she recognized three of them.

Agents from the FRU—one of them the female agent who’d come to help clean up the kangaroo mess. And that was just the three she recognized. Who knew how many of the other patrons were agents?

Della didn’t know whether to be relieved that they weren’t alone, or offended that Burnett thought they might need help. But after another quick glance at the undesirable characters here, she decided Burnett might have been right to send them.

“You okay?” Chase asked.

“Dandy,” she answered.

A couple of glasses of blood landed on their table. The server was a young female vamp. She gave Chase a good look up and down, and the swipe of her tongue over her lips said she liked what she saw. Panty perv smiled at her, and Della had no doubt that under different circumstances he and server would have ended up bumping uglies. Then again, Chase didn’t look like the type who had to pay for it, and Della would bet the girl’s services didn’t come free.

“I think she likes you,” Della said, when the girl walked away..

He looked up at Della, beneath his dark lashes. “She’s not my type.”

“You have a type?” she asked, and holy shit if she didn’t wish she could swallow the words back into her mouth.

“I like a challenge. Or so it seems lately.” The corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly with a smile, leaving no doubt of what he meant. “Dark hair is nice, too. Someone who speaks her mind. I don’t even mind someone a bit stubborn. A good argument every now and then just gets the blood flowing. And making up is fun.”

Damn, she’d started this, but how could she squash it? “Well, there’s a lot of girls out there like that.”

“I’m not so sure,” he said, and arched one brow. “You got a type?” He turned his glass in his hands.

“No.” She looked down at her blood.

“Liar,” he said.

She lifted her gaze. “Stop acting as if you know me, you don’t.”

He shrugged. “You like dark hair. Someone strong enough to stand up to you, but not too headstrong. Tall, a little muscular. The good-looking type.”

“You really have an ego the size of Texas, don’t you.”

He smiled. “I was describing Steve. But thank you.”

She growled.

His grin didn’t waver. “I might be a little too headstrong for you.”

“You got that right.”

“But you could probably convince me to work on it.”

She rolled her eyes. Another couple of bar customers walked through the door. Chase causally looked around, and she saw his shoulders stiffen ever so slightly. Then he started a conversation about some of the places he’d visited. Paris, Germany, China. Della knew he was just making conversation so they wouldn’t stand out. Knew he suspected someone was eavesdropping.

She still listened with interest, and forgot to study his face to see if he was lying.

“What part of China?” she asked, her gaze now on his left eye.

“Sang Hi, Beijing, Wuhan,” he said, and it didn’t sound like a lie.

“You’ve obviously been, right?”

“A couple of times.”

Chase glanced slightly to the right as if telling her something. Only then did she hear the footsteps.

A guy—a big guy, about twenty-one, shaved head, tattooed up, with enough piercings that a refrigerator magnet could take him out—came to a stop at their table.

“I hear you’re asking questions about one of mine?” The guy posed his question to Della. From his words, she supposed he was the leader of the gang. She couldn’t help but wonder if the one with the most piercings got to be the leader. She counted eight pieces of metal just on his face.

“Yes,” Della said, trying not to stare at the ring that dangled off his nose. Man, wouldn’t that be a hazard when fighting? “I heard you had a fresh turn recently join. I’m looking for a guy with short dark hair.”