He wanted to ask about the mint. That’s all it was. Just wanted to make sure Jacinda had everything she needed—that the patrons were satisfied, that he didn’t need to do another grocery run.
But his witch wasn’t behind the bar where he’d left her. The woman serving drinks now was one of his former Vegas bartenders, Maritza.
The bad mojo from earlier crept back up along his spine, squeezing his throat.
He searched the main level, the VIP rooms, the wine cellar. He paced the balcony, scanning the crowds for a glimpse of her silver-blond hair. He even checked the restrooms, startling a threesome of witches who’d been particularly… engrossed.
Jacinda was nowhere to be found.
He returned to the other bartender, shouting across the bar to be heard. “Have you seen Jacinda?”
“She’s not back yet.”
“Back from where?”
Maritza shrugged. “Said she had an errand to run. It’s no big—I’ve got her covered.”
Gabriel nodded, but the vampire behind the bar was wrong. It bloody wellwasa “big.”
The traitorous little witch had skipped out on him.
Biting back a string of curses, he headed outside, picking up her scent at once.
And just beneath it, another scent, smoky and repulsive, laced with adrenaline and lust.
Fucking demons.
“Problem, princeling?” Aiden appeared at his side, Cole trailing out the doors after him. “Saw you storming out here like your cock was on fire.”
Gabriel took another deep breath. Fresh fear spiked in his chest.
His fangs burst through the gums, adrenaline giving him new strength.
“Colin was right,” he said. “I reallycan’tbe expected to go this long without committing a murder.” Then, turning to the pair with a fanged grin, “You boys up for a bit of bloodshed and mayhem?”
Chapter Thirteen
Jaci lifted the spoon to the old man’s mouth, tipping applesauce between his cracked lips. Despite his best attempts at swallowing, most of it ended up on his chin and shirt.
Vacant blue eyes glanced down at the wet stains, then back up at her. She wondered if the stains bothered him. Ifanythingbothered him.
Forcing a smile, Jaci blotted away the applesauce. “Don’t worry, Dad. You’re still the best-looking guy on the wing. All the nurses have crushes on you.”
The ghost of a grin touch his lips, but that’s all it was. A ghost. Her own memory and wishful thinking projecting it onto his placid face, the mark of a guilty subconscious trying to protect her from the truth.
From what she’d done to him.
Behind his bed, the oxygen machine whirred, the heart monitor marking the passage of time with its steady beeps.
The soundtrack of his existence.
Jaci fisted the collection of tubes and wires, the lifelines that had kept him alive these past seven years, kept his body functioning even when his mind could not.
In the darkest recesses of her heart, she wondered if she should pull the plug. If she should let her father go. If she should’ve let him go seven years ago, when he’d died in her arms in an alley in Little Italy mere minutes after they’d escaped hell.
In our city, witch, death is a rare kindness. That you’d seek to overturn it is nothing less than madness…
Gabriel’s old words echoed, harsh and cruel. Bracingly accurate.
