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“I’m so sorry, Declan. I had no choice.”
He closed his eyes, surrendering to the darkness that called, and her scent lingered in the air long after she fled.
Chapter 33
“Hey lady, watch where you’re going—”
Ana hissed and pushed past the tall eighties wannabe rocker as she slid into the darkened interior of the Voodoo Lounge. The Quarter was still hopping and it was no different inside the club.
She paused near the bar, her gaze moving quickly over the crowd. There was only one face she wanted to see and irritation slid over her when she came up empty.
Where the hell was he?
“Can I get you anything?”
She turned, her gaze falling upon the hardened bartender she’d met a few evenings before. The faded eyes narrowed and the woman frowned.
“What do you want? ’Cause I sure as hell know we don’t serve the kind of refreshment you seek.”
The woman made no attempt to hide her dislike. Ana smiled. Like she gave a damn.
“I’m looking for Asher. He around?”
Surprise flickered in the depths of Sarah’s eyes, but she quickly hid it. She nodded toward the mezzanine. “Ransome hauled his ass up there ’bout half an hour ago.” She shrugged. “As far as I know he’s still chewing the slimy bastard out.”
Ana pushed away from the bar.
“How’s the magick man, O’Hara?” Sarah was concerned. It was obvious in her tone. Ana paused, her lips tight. “He’s fine.”
“Lady, as long as he’s got the hots for you, I highly doubt it.”
Ana ignored the comment and headed toward the stairs. Once on the landing she strode toward Ransome’s office and pushed the door open. The air was thick with the putrid taste of hatred, a healthy dose of blood, and an insane amount of testosterone.
Ransome stood near his desk, hands loose and bloody at his side. He was shirtless, his powerful chest showed signs of a fight. Long smears of blood ran along his pectorals and down his abs.
The scent hit her hard and Ana’s eyes widened, the blue receding to black as she glanced toward Asher.
The werewolf was breathing heavy. His face was a bloody mess and his arm was held at an awkward angle. Definitely broken. She smiled and hoped it hurt like hell.
“Out for a stroll?” Ransome smiled, though his eyes hardened. He knew this wasn’t a social call. “Where’s Dec?”
Ana ignored the question and responded with one of her own. “What’s going on? This some weird werewolf foreplay or what?” She took two steps until she stood in front of Asher.
The werewolf looked up at her, his left eye swollen shut, and sneered. “What do you care?”
“Actually, I don’t.” She bent low and let her fangs slide into view. “At all.” She smiled. “I came to see you.”
The werewolf’s eyes narrowed and he straightened, hissing as he held his arm close, tight. “Whatever do I owe the pleasure?”
“Cut the crap, Asher. You hate me as much as I hate you.” She let the anger inside flush her skin, loving the boost of energy that accompanied it, and clenched her hands together tightly. “I want to know where council hides these days. I need to see them.”
“The Velvet Rope is at the far end of the Quarter,” Ransome butted in, his large frame sidling alongside the two of them. “Same as it’s always been.”
Ana’s eyes never left Asher. “I’m not talking the club. I’m more interested in their lair. ”
“This is my city and even I don’t have that kind of information.” Ransome sounded more than a little annoyed.
Ana snorted. “Asher knows. He’s been in their back pocket for over a hundred years. How else do you think he’s managed to keep that slimy neck of his attached to his head?”
