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“Fine.”
“Take her outta here.” Charlie walked off in a huff.
Daniel remained, and as Bono turned with her, spoke up. “Just a moment. I have a parting thought for the chit.”
Bono hesitated, no doubt worried Erin would take another swing at Daniel. She remained limp in his arms and nodded a go-ahead to Bono.
The self-satisfied smirk on Daniel’s face fell short, considering the impressive black eye he sported. He leaned in, arms crossed, and she noticed his torn collar from the fight. “I’m reporting you to Blaine, real name or not. You can be sure he’ll find you. If you’re smart, you’ll flee before he catches up to you. You’re clearly not tame enough for our city.”
“If he’s anything like you, big boy, I’d be quaking in my barely there skirt. But with a name likeBlaine, I doubt he’s even a real man. Pansy’s more like it.”
“Lola,” Bono growled behind her, but she remained limp in his grip. Erin didn’t intend to start another fight, but she’d be damned if she’d back down from Daniel’s verbal threats.
Daniel held a single, lecturing finger up to her nose, and Erin barely suppressed a laugh. “I’ll let him know you said so. He won’t be amused.” He swept past them both, almost knocking Bono over when their shoulders connected with brute force. Erin laughed, not bothering to hold it in any longer.
Bono ignored her, hauling her body through the club, shoving aside anyone along their way, earning a few squeals. Erin couldn’t stop laughing, despite the circumstances.
When he pushed her through the dilapidated club door and into the alley, which served as the club’s entrance, her mood sobered. He set her down gently, and she was impressed with him for his kindness.
“Thanks. You could have just booted me out here on my ass. It’s what Charlie wanted, I’m sure.”
The big guy rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the ground. “Sometimes the boss doesn’t know how hard it is for the girls. I watch. I listen. I’m sure that VIP had it coming. Besides, watching you beat the crap outta him,” Bono sneaked her a grin, “gal, I never knew you had it in you.”
Erin licked her lips, the taste of the Nebbiolo still fresh upon her flesh. Somehow, the wine had changed her.Or had it?Had it been the tipping point to push her over an invisible line in the sand? Or had she been there already, deep inside herself?
“Sometimes I even surprise myself. Take care of yourself, Bono.” Erin turned to go, her heels scraping on the asphalt of the unlit, dank alley.
Erin’s stomach lurched at Bono’s question, the sincerity in his voice piercing her fabricated bravado. It took all her willpower not to turn and collapse into his powerful arms, to cling to the comfort and safety he represented.
She couldn’t stop the derisive laugh which slipped out. “Don’t worry about me. There’s always work for desperate girls who are willing to work in shit holes. I’ll find something new before the week is up,” she replied with a conviction she didn’t feel.
His sigh echoed against the narrow walls, but Erin refused to look back. She heard the door close behind her as she made her way out of the alley. She’d stashed her bicycle around the corner. The metal chains and locks had held it secure against the dilapidated concrete building pylon she’d relied upon time after time.
Freeing the bike with the key she kept secure in a pocket sewn into her panties, Erin rode home, pushing the pedals with the toes of shoes better made for dancing. Yet she’d gotten used to it.
It never ceased to amaze her, the things one could become accustomed to out of necessity.
As she rode through the deserted streets in the wee hours, she crooned to herself. The lyrics creeping unbidden into her mind, half-formed, but the tune carried through her mind, a drumbeat grounding out the distress of the past few hours.
CHAPTER13
NADIR
Nadir tread on light feet, leading the cabal up the concrete staircase with the downtown high-rise office tower at 1801 California. The stark, whitewashed walls held little contrast against the industrial bright lights overhead. Reaching the next stairwell, she passed a sign painted in red on a black door. The number fourteen marked the floor.
Thanks to her daemonic strength, she wasn’t even breathing hard. Not that she enjoyed climbing endless flights of stairs. So far, the most interesting part of the mission had been doing her mojo on the lock in the basement parking garage.
It never hurts to have a metal manipulator on the team.
“Are we there yet?” Kobol whispered. Nadir glanced back at him, watching for any sign of lingering issues from the blow he’d taken to the head earlier, when her nose finally caught a whiff of their prey.
The corner of her lip curled up a notch. Annamie’s intel had proved correct, yet again. She hadn’t wanted to believe her friend’s claim that an entire daemon nest had taken up residence downtown in a busy office space, but it appeared they’d gotten pretty damned bold.
Or desperate. Daemons knew something hunted them, but not what. They’d upped their game.
Nadir looked at the sancre in her grip. They weren’t the only ones.
“We’re getting close. Another floor, perhaps two. Remember, there are humans here too on the other floors. We’ll have to be quiet,” she whispered.
