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“Keep an eye on the bar for me? I’ll be right back.”
He flashes me a thumb’s up, and I head into the storage room. It’s where we keep all of the stock that doesn’t fit out behind the bar, plus the massive fridge where Charlie stores all of the chilled blood for his vamp regulars. I also have a small electric stovetop, a kettle, and a microwave.
What can I say? Ever since I met Aleks, I’ve developed a taste for tea.
A couple of minutes later, I’ve got the tea steeping. I grab the steaming mug in two hands and use my ass to swing the door open again. Aleks swears that his Earl Grey is perfectly steeped in three minutes and anything over that is undrinkable which is why I’m so surprised to find that he’s not sitting where I left him.
I set down his mug, frowning. Not only is he gone, but there’s no sign of him in the whole bar.
“Hey, Gem. Looking for Filan?”
That’s the flirtatious vampire Vincent.
He must’ve sat down at the counter while I was in the back. I nod over at him. “Yeah, Vincent. You see him?”
The vampire nods. “He got a call. Said to tell you he’d be right back.”
Huh. That’s interesting. Like a shifter, a vampire’s hearing is extremely keen. Even with the bar’s normal noise level, he’d have no problem having a conversation inside—unless he needed privacy.
Like, oh, it was Roman calling him?
Great.
Well, if he comes back and his tea is over-steeped, I can always make him another cup if he wants. Until then, I reach for a blacked-out shot glass and get ready to pour out Vincent’s regular order—but not before I take the opportunity to tuck my fang underneath my shirt.
Just as I’m sliding his drink over to him, the door opens again. Immediately, my wolf lets out a warning yip that has my head jerking toward the entrance. A familiar scent rises up over the alcohol, the fried appetizers, the stink of the rest of the clientele. It’s musky, it’s spicy, and there’s a hint of pine that has my heart starting to pound.
I was expecting it to be Aleks, but despite his natural icy scent, every vamp carries the scent of blood and death with them.
And that scent?
It smells like life.
It smells like hope.
It smells like mate.
Holy shit.
Ryker. That’s Ryker standing in the open doorway.
And from the way that his dark gold eyes find me from across the bar, I know that it’s way too late for me to duck and hide.
