This is news. “How do you know that? What hit?”
He unbuckles his seatbelt and runs a hand over his face. “I’ve spent a lot of time at the fishing dock, further up the coast. I’ve heard a lot over the years and the Demons like to hang out up there, it’s far enough away from the Unseen that they can party up there after they blow shit up. Well, one of the things I heard is that the Devil is stalking Grimm. He’s killed dozens of Demons, probably fucking hundreds over the years, and Grimm thinks the Unseen have paid him to do it.”
I swallow and keep my face carefully blank.
There’s only a handful of people who know about Nate and Poe, we voted and decided to keep it that way for now. Poe is fifteen and she lives too far away for us to just get it out there about the blood ties.
What if someone came after her thanks to Lips?
None of us could live with that and, worse, what would happen if Nate lost his most beloved little sister, the anchor that has kept him in some sort of sanity for his entire adult life?
Absolutely not.
“Right. So do you think the Unseen put the hit out? Why does Grimm think so?”
Aodhan unbuckles my seatbelt for me and Jack climbs out from the back. “The Unseen didn’t put the hit out. No one but God and the Beaumonts could afford his prices.”
The warehouse looks the same as the last time we were here for the meeting.
Still too many people packed in and even without the strict dress code the girls are barely covering themselves. There’s more than a few of the Viper’s guys walking around shirtless, their tattoos on show like some kind of badge of honor. I slipped my blazer on as I got out of the Impala so my own tattoo is covered so even when the blacklight hits me there aren't any signs of my allegiance showing.
It doesn’t matter.
Everyone knows who I am and they all for sure know who Aodhan is.
I startle when he takes my hand, threading our fingers together in a way that makes my heart squeeze in my chest. We haven’t spoken about what happened in the Jackal’s lair, not once, but I also don’t want to think about him treating me like I’m made of glass. He hasn’t so far but something has shifted between us now that my family has left town.
The crowd parts for us but it feels different from the last time I came to a party down here. The Stag has the respect of the Mounties because he’s a member of the Twelve but has none of the renown of the Wolf. He doesn’t have the Butcher on his side.
He’s not hiding in the shadows waiting to slit your throat.
He has the name but not the reputation yet and infamy takes time to establish. I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last few weeks, about what would be most useful to us and what gaps there are now amongst the Twelve that we could capitalize on.
Money isn’t an issue but we have to run the Game again and I don’t want some newcomer to mess with the peace we’ve found for ourselves.
“A cocktail or a wine? They’re probably all shit, any chance you drink straight spirits?” Jack says, leading the way over to the bar.
Aodhan grins at someone we pass tipping his head and I glance over to find some guy waving at him from across the bar. We’re surrounded by Mounties and I think if it were a little less deafening in here, I’d hear the panties hit the ground around us at the cheeky grin on his handsome face. There are more than a few glares from girls around us when they see our linked hands and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
I was hoping to be done with the catty bullshit when high school ended.
“A margarita please and in a clean glass, Jack, make sure it’s clean before you watch them pour.”
He salutes me and Aodhan helps me onto one of the bar stools, his body covering me like he thinks I’m about to be shot at. It’s ridiculous and I try to relax a little so he’ll relax around me as well.
When I made the decision to come out for the night, I also decided to have a good time with people I think just might be my friends.