Heartless - Jade West Page 0,16

sea of gambling and addict debts owned by people I’d met along my own desperate road.

I couldn’t let them die for it. I couldn’t let the Power brothers destroy people I’d come to care about along the way, even if just in passing. Again, just as well I didn’t really care about my own sorry fate. Not about how much I owed and not about how much I’d suffer for it. The Power brothers could take what they liked; I’d be almost glad to say my final goodbyes.

There was another line to wait in before I got into the bathroom stall. The place was filling up, bustling with laughter and chatter and people having a good time. Good for them.

I was desperate for release as I dropped myself down at the side of the toilet, pulling out my bank card and bills along with my stash of white powder.

Thank holy fuck for cocaine.

7

Lucian

“Terence Kingsley,” I said to the girl on the entrance desk.

“ID, please.”

I handed over Terence Kingsley’s passport and pushed my fake glasses up on my nose. My hair was styled in his usual swept-back wave, and I felt like a total imbecile in jeans and boots with a button-up shirt. She gestured me through with a smile, and I forced one back, determined to make this disguise work as well as possible. Terence Kingsley would definitely smile at her. He’d even smiled at me when I arrived at his doorstep last fall. More the fool him.

Cyrus Bar was quite lively for a shitty little downtown dive. People stepped aside to let me climb the main stairwell, and I was up and amongst it, into the main bar area. The music was garish and loud, hardly my usual taste. The singer on stage looked like a dull brute with a roar of a voice, and his band members had brightly-colored hair, glowing like trash under the spotlights.

I scanned the room, weaving my way through the crowd toward getting served a drink in this hovel, but my pretty blonde prey was nowhere to be seen.

I ordered a mineral water and shunted my way back to the side of the dancefloor in order to cast my eyes around me all over again. People were jumping up at the stage, trashed, or tapping their foot to the beat all around the edges, letting out squeals. Bullshit. The whole place was cheap, lousy bullshit.

Still, there was no sign of her.

As I completed my circuit in the shadows at the edge of the room, I wondered if I’d read the diary entry wrong. If she was in the building, I’d have surely seen her from a distance, recognizing the shimmer of blonde curls from a mile away, but no. She was nowhere to be seen.

I didn’t understand why the thought of failure frustrated me so badly. It was a rotten twist in my guts, my heart beating fast as I continued my scanning and mingling. It shouldn’t matter. It would be one pathetic foray in an attempt to track her down, not even worth breaking a sweat over. I had no idea why it felt like so much more.

I’d find her.

Some way, sometime soon, I’d hunt her down and find her. I just hoped damn fucking hard that it would be tonight. I was slavering over the thought of it.

I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make her beg and squeal and shiver at my touch.

I’d sipped my way through most of my mineral water when I saw a flash of perfect blonde on the other side of the dancefloor. My stomach did a twist, and the rage burned behind my eyes.

Yes.

Fuck, yes.

I knew it was her, even without a clear view. I knew it by instinct – by the hatred rushing through my veins.

I made my way closer, keeping in the shadows. She was standing next to a tall guy who looked like a vintage throwback, attractive, but a pussy of a man, weak enough looking that I could easily break his neck with one simple twist. Elaine was close to him, pressed up tight, but I knew he hadn’t laid a single dirty hand on her, not in any way that counted. It was another flash of instinct in my gut.

She was staring up at the stage, gazing at the loser bellowing into the mic up there. Yes, it was Elaine Constantine, but she looked . . . different. She’d almost have passed for a normal person, for anyone other than