withdrew from Mike with sad eyes. A sexy female vampire had blown him a kiss, and he could tell she'd telepathically told the bartender to give him whatever he wanted. Although she remained on her barstool, she
shot random erotic images his way, then licked two fingers and dragged them down her cleavage.
"Keep dreaming, baby," Carlos muttered as she slid her hand up her shirt and released a soft moan. He glanced at Bobby and Dan to be sure that the redhead with crystal green eyes and double-D cleavage hadn't messed up the younger brothers.
"She has to do way better than that," Bobby said, totally unfazed. Dan pounded his fist, chuckling when she flipped them both the bird and strode away.
"Good night to you, too - skank."
"I guess after being called by Lilith, everything else in here is a minor temptation?" the bartender crooned, his handsome caramel-hued face flawlessly boyish as he smiled at Carlos. He lowered his luminescent brown eyes, delicate black lashes shadowing them as Carlos gave him a hard grit. "No response, strong silent type?"
"Your problem, dude?" Rider said in a half-snarl, leaning closer to a second-gen vamp than was normally advisable. "You wanna ease up off my brother before my trigger finger gets itchy?"
The bartender flinched to attempt a quick snatch at Rider, and six barrels pointed at him with distinctive clicks. He eased back with a sheepish grin and held both hands up in front of his chest.
"Like I said," Rider muttered through his teeth. "Wanna fix the man his drink and fuck off?"
"My apologies," the bartender murmured sensuously. "But the testosterone and adrenaline trail you gentlemen have is captivating the whole bar... with well-fed human blood as the foundation carrier, too - whew ... a damned delicacy that only the vixen herself could provide. Tell me, are you all off limits and only hers for dinner - is that why you're all so touchy - or did she send you as a gift for us? If she gave explicit orders, then no one would dare cross her... but if not..."
"Private label, neat," Carlos said in Dananu, ignoring the probing question.
"Yes, sir" the bartender said with an awed gasp. "And she trained you in the mother tongue, too? Do you all speak it, or just the hunk that smells incredible?" He drifted away and came back with Carlos's order. "Oh, wait 'til I tell the crew." His gaze perused the seven stone faces that were ig noring him and staring out on the floor, scanning the scene before them. "After she's done, you have to stay for a while and talk that nasty Dananu to me."
Carlos didn't respond, but made sure the horny vamp stayed in his peripheral vision until he moved away to serve other revelers. He kept his eyes roving for any signs of Yon-nie. In his mind, as much as this was gonna end up as a drive-by, he wanted to let his boy know that he was still family and had a haven - if things hadn't changed. But Car los quickly shook the futile thought. Any emotion considered soft and accidentally picked up on in here would get a man immediately smoked.
The team looked up in unison to see something they'd never seen before. A fine, brunette, female vamp still mov ing as mist had sidled up to Rider from behind. But before her hands slid across his shoulders, he'd vamp-snatched her and slammed her head against the bar, holding her by the throat.
"Never in the throat without my permission," Rider growled, a 9mm at her temple. "We clear?" He flung her away from him and eyed her with disdain. "Seconds. I hate 'em."
The team tried not to gape. Rider's speed was something they could talk about later, as well as how he'd seen her be hind him at the bar without turning around, as though he had vamp three-sixty sight line. Regardless, their cover was holding; the old-heads had it on lock. Female were-demons were smiling a little too much at Shabazz and Big Mike for Carlos's liking, but he had to let it go. Old tracers, he told himself. Carlos kept everybody in his peripheral vision. Lilith's lair was heavily fortified and the bouncers patrolling the upper rims were no joke. Standing seven feet tall with ten-inch fangs and barrel chests to rival WWE wrestlers, he knew they'd have to shoot those big bastards first, along with the Hell dogs they held by long chains. But any minor