Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)(23)
She drank so much during our three hours, I didn’t know how she stayed coherent. She brought me one of her shirts to change into and then told me it was time to leave.
“Can we talk again later?” I asked. “After you’ve had time to think about everything?”
“I do not think that will be necessary.” She stood by the door with her hand on the knob. A horrible feeling of failure spread through me.
“What will you do today?” I grasped for something, desperate. “And tonight?”
“I will work, of course. He has been known to send his dark ones to watch me while he travels, so I must always work. And now, you must go.”
She opened the door and squared her shoulders before looking down at me. I walked out and turned to say good-bye, but she shut the door in my face. I stood there for a minute, shaking inside. What was I supposed to do? Looking down the cobbled road, I began walking back in the direction we’d come. By the time I sensed Kope step out of an alley and follow me, I was biting the insides of my cheeks, keeping my head down. I wanted to cry. Or kick something.
To add to my mood, I almost got hit by a car when I thought I saw Kai and froze in the intersection. Pedestrians definitely didn’t have the right of way here. The guy on the sidewalk had the same exact height and build, but when the stranger turned his unfamiliar face toward the sound of the honking car, an absurd feeling of disappointment settled inside me. I jumped out of the way just in time. My head was a mess.
Kope spoke from behind me as we neared the hotel. “You did well, and she has much to think about. Tonight we will follow while she works. Perhaps there may be another opportunity to show we mean no harm.”
“Okay,” I agreed, and I clung to his optimism.
The sun had set when we approached Zania’s street as silently as possible that night. Using my special senses, I heard the ruffling of clothing and clinking of glass inside her house. When she came out, she stayed on her doorstep for a moment. Kope and I stood very still in a pathway where she couldn’t see us. We waited until she’d rounded the corner at the end of the street before following. Other people were out, so I hoped our footsteps would go unnoticed.
After a ten-minute walk we ended up outside the touristy restaurant Zania was in. Kope waited outside while I peeked through a window. She’d gone to the bar, which had a large dance floor separating it from the dining space. Most of the patrons looked to be college age.
Since it was past the dinner hour, the seating area was dimly lit and had the atmosphere of a lounge or nightclub. It was not crowded yet, but there were enough people to keep us out of sight. I motioned Kope to follow me inside, and we went to a small table at the back of the room. For one paranoid moment I wondered if sitting with Kope was going to gain us unwanted attention, but nobody gave us a second glance.
A waitress came over and we both ordered cups of the city’s famous hot tea, though my body longed for something stronger. When she walked away, I moved the table’s flower arrangement and standing drink menus to the end of the table to block us. Kope sat at an angle so Zania could not see his face. I dipped my head down when she turned in our direction. She was eyeing a table of men on the other side of the lounge from her.
The room was quickly filling with cigarette smoke that tickled my lungs and burned my eyes. I had to tighten my vision into focus. What I noticed was unsettling. The four men at the table were not like the others in the room. Most of the men in the bar and lounge were sort of slick, GQ-looking guys with their hair heavily gelled, facial hair trimmed and shaved into neat lines around their jaws. Those types were talking and laughing, dancing and drinking, with colorful auras. But not the four men Zania chose to watch.
They wore traditional, black tunic shirts and had full beards. They were not drinking, and they seemed to be having a serious discussion. One in particular took notice of Zania’s attention, and his aura immediately muddied. She smiled coyly, moving her hair and looking away as if she were embarrassed to be caught watching. He looked back down, shifted in his seat, and then looked up at her again. She was running her fingers softly up and down her neck. Zania was an expert at taking small, seemingly innocent gestures and packing them full of meaning.
The man’s emotions went into overdrive, swirling around him, dangerously dark with zaps of red as Zania bit the pad of her thumb. The dude was scary. Of all the men in that place, he was the one I’d steer clearest of. His eyes darted around with unease. Zania didn’t seem afraid in the slightest.
Every few minutes Kope would shift just enough to glance at the scene. There must have been something in the look on my face just then, because he turned abruptly to see what was going on. After a moment he pivoted back toward me and we looked at each other, mutual in our worry. Zania was a good worker. She’d chosen the one man in the room who probably prided himself on being chaste. If she had anything to do with it, his morals would be smashed to pieces that night, and his opinion of women would hit an all-time low.
The man had given up on trying not to look at her. He now stared with open lust and hatred, lost in a red and gray haze. His companions finally made the connection, looking from him to Zania, who’d looked away to finish her drink. The men spoke low in Arabic, with heated passion. Kope pulled out his phone and began typing, then passed it to me.
He calls her devil woman. They agree she must be taught a lesson.
Frightened for her, I held my breath to see what would happen. With one last sultry look in the seething man’s direction, Zania slid off the chair and sauntered through the crowd of dancers toward the exit. The man stood to follow. I’d like to think she was sprinting home at this moment, but something told me Zania allowed herself to be taught lessons on a regular basis. Well, whatever usually happened, it sure as heck wasn’t going to happen tonight. By the hard look on Kope’s face, he was in agreement. He threw some money on the table and we got up to follow them.