“What happened to letting bygones be bygones?” Isabelle came out from around the divide, attempting a scolding glare. But behind her steely gaze, Gabriel noticed a glimmer of approval.
“I got half of it right, didn’t I? The gone part?” Gabriel grabbed a cloth napkin from the table and wiped the blood from his mouth, then smiled at the witch. “Bloody hell, I feel so much better. Don’t you?”
Isabelle sighed and held out her hands. “Let’s be sure you stay that way.”
Gabriel was so pleased with his accomplishment, he didn’t even resist Isabelle’s magic infusion.
* * *
Standing beside Dorian on the balcony later that night, Gabriel looked out across the sea of bodies, eyes peeled for any sign of demonic trouble.
Dorian sipped his scotch, then shook his head, his shoulders heavy with some new weight. “Two dead Rogozin demons in as many nights, Gabriel? Kostya and Mikhail were on track to becoming some of Alexei’s top dogs.”
“Then Alexei needs to send his dogs back to obedience school.” Gabriel scoffed. “Be serious, brother. Kostya and Mikhail? They weren’t top of anything. Rogozin bought their loyalties from the bargain bin of Chernikov’s leftovers.”
“Rogozin’s organization has assimilated several dozen of Chernikov’s former associates, and many of them are proving quite reliable.”
“Foolish me. And here I thought our new demon allies were actually on our side.” Gabriel swallowed the last of his bourbon—his fifth in an hour. Sixth? He’d lost count. It did nothing to eradicate the filthy taste of demon blood from his mouth, but he didn’t want to eradicate that. He needed it. Needed the foulness of it to linger as long as possible, chasing away all thoughts of the witch. Her scent. Her blood.
His fuckingneed, growing darker and more terrifying by the day.
“Wasn’t Rogozin supposed to eliminate Chernikov’s organization?” he asked. “Why the fuck are there still so many of them skittering about this city like cockroaches?”
“Rogozin took down theorganization, yes,” Dorian said. “And its leader. But a lot of those demons were little more than freelancers, eager to prove themselves to whoever holds the most power.”
“Never trust a man whose loyalties can be so easily swayed. Especially a man of questionable origins. And trust me—it doesn’t get more questionable than demons.” Gabriel tossed back his glass again, the emptiness of it pissing him off. He reached for Dorian’s scotch instead, finishing it in one slug.
Dorian sighed. “Regardless of their origins, brother, those demons are now Rogozin-sworn, which means theyareour allies. You can’t go round killing them all, or—”
“For fuck’s sake, Dorian. If those demons had hurt Charlotte, you would’ve torn their balls off.”
“No.” Dorian clamped a hand over Gabriel’s shoulder, the look in his eyes dark and menacing. “I would’ve torn their balls off, set them on fire,andfed them to their former owners while all their friends watched. Do you know why?”
“Yes. Because Charlotte—”
“BecauseCharlotteisn’t some pet I’ve leashed for entertainment, to be cast off whenever she begins to bore me. She’s my life, Gabriel, and I bloodyloveher. If any demon so much as considered… oh.” The look in his eyes changed from menacing to confused, then irritated, then completely amused. “For fuck’s sake. Seriously?”
“Seriously what?”
“You’re in love with the witch?”
“Piss off.” Gabriel shook off his brother’s grip, the implication setting his blood to boil. “This has nothing to do with love. I don’t even like the woman.”
“Yet you assassinated two demons who—”
“Rogozin’s mutts attacked a woman inmyclub, puttingmypatrons in danger, damagingmyproperty, and injuringmystaff. I retaliated with a message that such offenses won’t be tolerated.”
Dorian scrutinized him for a long beat, his accusatory gaze practically burning the flesh from Gabriel’s face.
“And the witch?” Dorian asked.
“Jacinda Colburn is neither a pet nor a lover.”
Dorian laughed. “Then what is she?”
Gabriel looked out across the main floor again, past the vampires and shifters and demons, past the sleek marble and velvet decor, his eyes immediately finding Jacinda behind the bar, smiling at a mage couple as she mixed up their drinks. For all her darkness, she lit up the room like no one else could, a bright spot in a sea of gray and black. His patrons loved her. His staff adored her. And everything she touched, somehow, turned to magic.
He watched her a moment longer, admiring how effortless she made it look. Bartending, entertaining, looking runway-model gorgeous. She wore a champagne-colored dress tonight, strapless satin overlaid with black lace, and sheer black stockings that showed off her toned legs. Jeweled clips held her hair off her shoulders, creating a tumble of curls down her back. And always, that red lipstick, dark and seductive, driving him fucking insane.
