And she was damn near running herself ragged, too. Dashing back and forth from her customers to the register, mixing drinks, cutting fresh garnishes, smiling at even the worst of clients.
Fending off their filthy advances, no doubt.
Charlotte tried to hide her laughter with another sip of her wine. Failed miserably.
“I have a plan, you know.” Gabriel downed the last of his bourbon and set his glass on the table, harder than he’d meant to. Bloody hell, after fifty years apart, nary a word spoken among them, he’d forgotten what an exhausting lot his brothers could be. “Right now, Jacinda is our only link to Duchanes and our best shot at defeating this bloody curse. Or have you conveniently forgotten about that too?”
“And she’s on board with helping you?” Charlotte asked skeptically. “Honestly?
“Not only that,” he said with a smirk, “I think she’s actually starting to like me.” He thought back to the way she’d fixed his tie tonight, the soft touch of her hand on his chest.
Charlotte’s laughter exploded in earnest. “That is someseriousStockholm Syndrome shit right there.”
“I think I liked you better before you became a bloodsucker.”
Still laughing, Charlotte said, “And Ineverliked you, so I’m actually okay with that.”
Sasha piped in next. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Gabe, but if kidnapping is your idea of building trust and getting someone to like you, you probably need therapy. My interpersonal psychology professor says—”
“Don’t call me Gabe. Bloody hell, girl. Are you even old enough to be in here?”
Sasha shrugged and picked up her caramel appletini. “I’ve got connections.”
“Perhaps I should kick them out as well.”
Sasha laughed and stuck out her tongue, and Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. Even in her most annoying moments, Sasha’s exuberance had a way of making everyone laugh. That, along with the fact that Aiden was damn near in love with the girl, was the only reason Gabriel had allowed her to break the no-humans rule.
“It’s been well over a month,” Colin said. “Chernikov’s demons are all but gone. No trouble from Duchanes. Perhaps he’s given up.”
“No word from Duchanes is not the equivalent of no trouble.” Gabriel looked out across the sea of supernatural faces crowded into the club—vampires and demons from every powerful family in New York, witches and mages, shifters he’d never even seen before. “Someonemust know something. Must have heard a rumor, a whisper. Vampires like Renault Duchanes don’t simply ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again.”
“Perhaps he met an untimely death at the end of a pointy object?” Charlotte offered.
“You know damn well luck don’t work that way, Charles,” Cole said, and Gabriel nodded. As much as the thought of Duchanes impaling himself on a stake filled him with a special kind of joy… No. He’d know it if the bastard were dead. He’d feel it.
“It’s opening night, brother,” Dorian said, clamping a hand over Gabriel’s shoulder. “Enjoy yourself. Whatever secrets are locked up inside the hearts and minds of these reprobates, they’ll still be lurking there tomorrow.”
“Now, about this witch,” Aiden whispered to Sasha, as if none of the rest could hear. “I do believe he’s got a bit of a crush.”
Sasha giggled, looking younger than even nineteen. “Ya think?”
“All right, brothers.” Gabriel rose from the table, eager to leave his meddling family behind. “Enough gossip.”
“Bored of us already?” Colin asked.
“Not so much bored as longing for the days when we skipped the chit-chat and jumped right to beating the bloody hell out of one another.” He laughed, a bit of the knot unbunching from his so-called princely panties. “Enjoy your evening, brothers. I need to mingle, lest our unsavory guests forget who’s actually hosting this night of debauchery.”
“You’re going to charm the secrets out of them, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked with a sly smile.
“I’m starting to understand why my brother keeps you around,” he teased, leaning in to kiss his future sister-in-law’s cheek. “When you’re not busy sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you’re actually pretty damned brilliant.”
Chapter Twelve
The booze, the music, and the blood supply were holding strong.
Gabriel’s patience, however, was not.
In the hours since he’d left his brothers, he’d been propositioned by no less than a dozen female vampires, groped by several of the males, jostled, spilled upon, crashed into, and—thanks to a trio of drunk, overeager alpha wolves trying to impress their fated mates with their terribly uncoordinated dance moves—suffered no less than three broken toes.
