“It might be a new drug,” Venom said. “I’ll alert Janvier and Ashwini, have them follow up.”
Arabella had shivered at Venom’s voice, but found the courage to continue speaking. “Yeah, Zeph heard rumors of a new high.” A cough that shook her rib cage. “I made him promise a long time ago never to take any of the new stuff. Just honey feeds or I’d leave him.”
That was probably the only reason Zeph was still alive. “Is that why you and Zeph were calling? To tell me about the bad drugs?”
“No.” Arabella’s eyes fluttered. “We were hanging out in Times Square—I like the lights.” She smiled softly. “It got real crowded. I don’t mind so much but Zeph’s not good with it, so we found a place inside the closed doorway of a dress shop.”
Holly nodded, conscious that Venom had shifted so he was no longer in Arabella’s line of sight. “Did you see something?” People often didn’t notice those like Zeph and Arabella, who were used to fading into the shadows.
“No. Heard it.” Her eyelids fluttered again. “Two older vampires stopped near where we were hiding and we went real quiet because we know they’re mean. They were talking and one said, ‘Word came down straight from Walter Battersby. Score is solid.’”
As Holly frowned, Arabella took another shaky breath and added, “We couldn’t hear all of the rest . . . but we’re sure the second vampire said . . . Chang.” Arabella’s eyelashes shaded her cheeks, her badly hurt body pulling her into a deep, healing sleep.
“Who,” Venom murmured in the ensuing silence, “is Walter Battersby?”
22
According to Janvier, Battersby was a broker who acquired coveted items for wealthy immortals. Janvier’s distinctive Cajun accent dark honey down the telephone line, he said, “Neither my Ashblade nor I have ever met him, but we’ve heard his name in connection with stolen antiquities and gemstones.”
Of course this mysterious broker didn’t live in the tormented, dangerous darkness that Zeph and Arabella and Brynn called home. He lived high up in an exclusive skyscraper that was all glitter and gloss. When Venom stopped his beautiful and very expensive car out front, the valet looked like he was going to have a heart attack.
Venom threw him the keys. “Don’t dent it.”
The poor young male looked caught between ecstasy and terror. He still hadn’t managed to utter a single word by the time they were out of earshot. “You enjoy doing that,” Holly said, trying for a scowl when she wanted to grin. “Making people lose their shit.”
Eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, Venom said, “It’s an amusing little hobby.” He nodded politely to the composed mortal doorman, then waited for Holly to enter the grand marble lobby before entering behind her.
Holly shivered.
His hand brushed her back over the top of the hoodie he’d called “a monstrosity that may burn my irises to blindness.” To be fair, she’d told him he looked like an Indian Ken doll in his gray shirt and black suit; he was still wearing the suit jacket, having managed to find a rag at the clinic to wipe off the worst of the dirt and blood that had gotten onto it.
Dark as the fabric was, the damage was no longer visible to the naked eye.
“You’re cold?” A low murmur of sound that sank into her bones.
“No, not really.” Holly told her hormones to cut it out . . . and heard that stealthy second pulse she’d thought had gone mercifully silent.
Her blood turned to ice. “It’s all this marble,” she somehow managed to say, “it’s cold.”
Walking over to the reception desk, Venom asked the receptionist to buzz Walter Battersby. The cool-eyed and black-haired vampire on duty, her cheekbones like razors, nodded and did as asked . . . before offering Venom a deep smile with lush lips painted a rich pink. As if to make sure he didn’t miss the silent invitation, the slinky woman leaned forward, her impressive cleavage plumping up in the deep vee of her dark blue top.
“You could lose a chicken leg in there,” Holly muttered under her breath.
She thought she’d said it quietly enough that Venom wouldn’t hear, but he shot her an amused look before thanking the receptionist. “My pleasure,” the woman said in a lightly accented voice—Welsh, maybe?—before sliding her hand forward to shake his.
Holly turned away and rolled her eyes.
Waiting until Venom joined her out of hearing distance, Holly said, “Did she slip you her number?”