Torn to shreds by those claws and teeth of yours?”
“Oh,” she managed, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. That stupid piece of cloth was worth more money than she’d ever seen in her entire life. Freddy would have kittens when she told him about it. If she could tell him about it. She quickly resumed walking, hoping the vampire wouldn’t notice how flustered she was. The light touch to her shoulder made her yelp in surprise as he put more pressure there, urging her in another direction. Yet more embarrassment.
“It’s not the money, really. More the principle of the thing.”
Not the money. Right. Swallowing hard, she followed his urging onto the sidewalk as he hailed the lone cab moving their direction, relaxing a little more since the lights were casting shadows that helped her keep better track of him. “I’ve heard your name somewhere before. Were you ever in California?”
“No.”
After a minute, as the cab was pulling up, she realized he wasn’t about to elaborate. This conversation was getting very disheartening. “Christoph never said your name to anyone.”
“I gathered as much.”
She glared in his general direction as he pulled the door to the cab open and held it for her. Due to his lack of scent and her inability to see his expression, unused to judging moods by tone of voice alone, she was unable to tell that he was amused with her. He slid in after her, brushing a hand down his shirt as the cabbie twisted around in the seat.
“Where to?” he said, sleepy, heavily lidded eyes taking in the strange pair. On the Plexiglas that separated the front seats from the back, there was a sticker of the symbol of the Moonwalker pack on it—a paw print on the surface of the full moon.
The vampire leaned forward, black eyes glinting in the street light as he plotted and schemed what to do with this new burden. “Do you know where The Underground is?”
The cabbie’s eyes widened, and he withdrew. “Mr. Royce! Of course, sir, of course.” Twisting around, he quickly pulled out, rushing over the speed limit toward the docks and warehouses that bordered the river.
Royce leaned back in the seat, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering scent of werewolf musk, lingering cigarette smoke, and old fast food. Closing his eyes, he settled in and folded his hands over his stomach, uninterested in discussing his affairs in front of the cab driver.
Analie sat back as well, staring at the shadowed outline next to her.
She remembered where she’d heard his name before.
Most of the time she didn’t listen in on the news. That was boring adult stuff. Christoph had been over watching TV one day and she’d wanted to switch to cartoons. As usual, he’d told her to shut up and go away—but this time, when she stole the remote, he wasn’t playing around when he tore it away from her and put it back on the news. She’d stuck around, sulking and watching the drama playing out on the television. It had soon sucked her in, too, since the topic was so close to home.
She hadn’t caught all of it, but what she did hear was bad enough. A big pack of Weres had been attacked, or were attacking Royce on his own ground. One of his restaurants. Shots were fired. People had died. The body count was uncertain, but many Weres had been killed or injured in a big battle above some fancy-named French eatery somewhere in the heart of a very expensive-looking part of New York City. And at the center of it all was that vampire, Alec Royce. That wasn’t even a year ago.
Oh God. What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter 3
The cab driver dropped Royce and Analie off in front of a grungy-looking warehouse close to the docks overlooking the Hudson River. Red neon letters proclaimed the location as “The Underground,” a bit of a misnomer considering it was a five-story building. There wasn’t a line outside anymore, but the sound of heavy metal music still drifted out into the streets, a pair of bored bouncers smoking and chatting by the front door.
They straightened when Royce stepped out of the cab, surprised to see their boss arrive for an unscheduled visit. The pair exchanged bemused glances as the teenaged girl in jeans and a corduroy jacket slid out behind the vampire.
One of the two beefy men approached. “Want me to let you in the back, Mr. Royce?”