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“You first.” George jerked his head at the tracks.
Ridley and I exchanged a glance. I could tell she didn’t want him at our backs any more than I did, but I judged that I’d pushed him as far as I could.
I started walking, Ridley alongside me, and George following close on our heels.
My neck crawled like he was eyeing it. Probably wondering if he could get away with severing my spine. And I’d have bet serious money that a couple more vampires watched from the shadows.
I moved my thumb to the catch of my switchblade. Just in case.
Inwardly, I frowned. What was up with Spider? I’d come and gone in his section of the underworld for years.
He wouldn’t have let my brothers past the outer door, but everyone knew I was the Kral family rebel, the brother who’d refused to be “made” in the syndicate. More importantly, I was the Kral who brought him gifts of cash and blood-wine. I’m sure Father knew about our friendship—he had spies everywhere—but he’d never brought it up and neither did I.
I wasn’t sure why I’d first set out to win Spider’s trust. Probably because I’d needed somewhere to go where I wasn’t a Kral. And not just a Kral, but a Kral Dark Angel, to spread the icing on the things-I-wished-I-could-change cake.
I hadn’t asked for this life. I didn’t want it.
But there was no way out. Made man or not, I was still a Kral. You could be born into a vampire syndicate, or “made,” or both.
But you didn’t leave. Not when your father was Primus.
Ahead of us the darkness shifted and solidified, and Spider faced us, stiff-legged and expressionless, a silver dagger gleaming in his hand. “Batman.”
“Spider.” I gave him an easy nod. “My apologies for intruding.”
His eyes glittered blue like a Danger, Keep Out sign. “What do you want?”
“A night’s sanctuary for me and my woman.”
A smile that wasn’t a smile. “Yeah? What the fuck have you been smoking? You think I wanna be dragged into a goddamn syndicate war?” He pointed the dagger at the tunnel behind us. “Get your sorry asses out of here or I’ll chain you and that bitch of yours to a wall and cut you up for the rats to feed on. It’s been a while. They’re hungry.”
Ridley made a subtle, agitated shift from one foot to the other.
My jaw hardened. “Twenty thousand. Cash.”
Spider rubbed a thumb over the dagger’s carved ebony handle. “For one night?”
“That’s right. We’ll leave tomorrow. We just need to disappear for a few hours, let the trail cool.”
“Nobody saw you come down here?”
“No.”
“Make it fifty thou.”
“You’ve got it.” I transferred the switchblade to my left hand and stuck out my right.
He eyed my hand without taking it. “Deal’s only good until tomorrow at noon.”
“Understood.”
“Then you’ve got your sanctuary for the night.” He shook my hand and glanced over his shoulder. “Velma?”
His long-legged, black-haired lieutenant stepped forward. “Here.”
“Show Batman and his woman to our guest room.”
George sniggered at the “guest” room, but Velma tilted her head at me and Ridley. “This way.” She had a deep, soothing voice like the kind you hear on late-night radio.
