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God damn it to Hades.
I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud until the cabbie glanced uneasily at the mirror.
I flashed my fangs. “Keep your eyes on the road.”
I waited until he obeyed, then rested my head on the back of the seat. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off. I stared tiredly at the passing buildings. My eyes drooped, my head nodding on my chest.
I straightened and blinked rapidly, willing myself to remain awake until the cabbie stopped in front of the tall brick building that housed the Chelsea Market.
“We’re here, sir.”
I handed him a fifty and pointedly eyed his identification. “You tell anyone you saw us, and I’ll hunt you down.”
The fifty disappeared. “Saw who?”
“Good man.”
I got out of the taxi, Ridley in my arms. She’d passed out, probably a blessing.
The market didn’t open until seven a.m. I slipped into the entryway. When I was out of sight of the sidewalk, I faded into the shadows with Ridley. The building I owned was on the next block, the middle unit in a row of three-story buildings that had once been factories.
When I reached the corner, I saw a woman pounding on the front door of my building—Katie, disguised by a glamour. At least, I assumed it was her.
I circled around the back, dropped out of the shadows and slapped my hand onto the doorbell for the third floor. Xavier immediately buzzed me in. Not for the first time, I thanked the lucky star that had led to that chance meeting in Mexico.
Pulling open the door, I stepped over the threshold and back into the shadows.
My head spun. I took a stumbling step forward. I was running on fumes, my energy all but depleted. I set my jaw and strode with Ridley up the steps.
The first floor was rented at a low rate to a local nonprofit, who had no access to my private staircase. The door to the second floor, where my security staff’s quarters were located, was closed.
Xavier waited at the top, holding open the door to my loft. I walked out of the shadows and into the kitchen—and got slammed by a wave of nausea. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. I swallowed and kept walking.
Xavier closed the door and fell in beside me. His gaze bounced between me and Ridley, taking in our torn, bloody clothes.
“What the fuck, jefe?” He insisted on calling me boss, even though I’d told him to call me Zaq.
“We got jumped by four underworld SOBs. Apparently there’s a reward for anyone who stakes us.”
He let out a low whistle. “Where do you want to put the woman?”
“My bed.”
The loft took up the entire third floor. It was built on an open plan with the kitchen and living room taking up the front half. On the street side, a wall of windows ran the length of the living room. I glanced at them, relieved to see someone had closed the custom-made blackout blinds I’d had installed inside the glass.
Xavier followed my gaze. “I closed them,” he said. “The blinds in your bedroom, too. No one can see in.”
I nodded my thanks and headed down the short hall to my bedroom. Xavier slipped past me to turn on a small brass lamp and pull down the covers.
I laid Ridley on the bed. Her hair was damp from perspiration, its brightness dimmed like a tattered, but still beautiful butterfly. I stroked it back from her face, and her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.
“Scrub the video of us,” I told Xavier, “then put the cam on a loop so it looks like no one is up here.” The longer we kept my return a secret, even from my staff, the safer Ridley and I would be.
“I’m on it, jefe.”
While he was out of the room, I removed Ridley’s boots and eased up the hem of her sleeveless black tee. Blood seeped out of her wound. The blades used as stakes are long and thin, which meant the hole was small in diameter—a couple of centimeters across—but deep. Still, it would’ve scabbed up already if the silver had prevented it from healing.
My first priority was to clean out the silver. The longer the poisonous metal remained in her body, the sicker she’d get.
