Her shoulders were stiff, her chin tilted as she scanned the room. His little hunter was used to being on her own and didn’t like him calling the shots.
Too bad. He was tougher and damn sure meaner.
It rankled with her to be following rather than leading. Her eyes were practically boring a hole in his back. Amusement tickled him, but he didn’t smile, keeping all his emotions locked down.
He walked right up to an empty stool at the bar and simply stared at the man occupying the one next to it. The guy grabbed his drink and made a space without being asked.
Before she could take it, he sat on the stool with his back to the wall. She scowled but didn’t object, sliding onto the seat beside him.
The bartender hurried over. “What will it be?”
“Scotch.”
“Vodka with cranberry juice, for me.” She placed her elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “I know it probably has some fancy name. I just liked the taste.” Her smile was a bit too friendly for his liking.
“You got it.” When he caught Maccus’s glare, he paled and turned away.
“That wasn’t very nice.” She took a napkin lying on the counter and began to spin it around.
Maccus ground his teeth. “He’s still alive. That is me being nice.”
“Bartenders are observant. I was hoping to chat him up, see if he’s seen anything unusual.”
“We don’t need his help.”
When their drinks were in front of them, she picked up the glass and saluted him before taking a sip. “To a successful hunt.” She had to pitch her voice so he could hear her above the music and other conversations going on around them.
“You can’t get drunk, can you?” Last thing they needed was for her to be tipsy.
“Nope. Well, not easily. My metabolism just burns it off. I’d have to drink a lot to even get a buzz on.” She spun around on the stool until she was facing him. He knew she’d normally never put her back to the room, but she trusted him to watch out for her. Until this was over, they were partners of sorts. After that, they’d go back to whatever it was they were.
A therapist would have a field day with them.
There was the slightest shift in the energy of the room. He’d known this was a trap. This was one time he wished he wasn’t right.
He downed the drink in one mouthful and slammed the glass back to the counter. It shattered, glass shards showering all over his hand. Several pierced his skin, but as fast as the cuts appeared, they healed.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” She swiveled around, searching to see who or what had aroused his ire.
It was a waste of time. There was nothing for her to see.
The music continued to pump; people laughed and drank and danced among the flashing colored lights. Some of them were already drunk or high. Others were simply having a fun evening with friends. The air was ripe with the smell of booze, sweat, perfume, and sex.
He yanked her stool back around and leaned forward. The pulse in her neck jumped. Her pupils dilated. He could kiss her right now, and she wouldn’t object.
When her tongue swiped over her bottom lip, he cursed Lucifer and all his minions. Her mouth would taste sweet with a hint of tartness, like cranberries. She leaned closer and raised her head.
“Lucifer is here.”
That killed her arousal in a heartbeat. Her eyes went flat, and she stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. “Why would he be here? Why not take us at the motel? It would have been easier. Quieter.”
“He’s taunting me. Us.” It was odd to think in those terms, even if it was only temporary. “He’s gone now. It’s a reminder of how easily he can get to you. We need to be extra cautious. Might not only be him.” He was close enough to brush his lips over her neck. He didn’t, but she still shivered.