murmured when I was seated in my car. “Annoy me with your ‘wit,’ or just make me outright mad.”
No physical evidence of Roman appeared—no signature, no physical appearance—but his voice answered me back just as softly. “Go see your friends. Aren’t they going to that bar tonight? You need to tell Cody he’s going on a double date.”
“It’s not a double date,” I growled back.
But Roman had a point. I probably should let the young vampire know what was in store tomorrow. I was also kind of curious how Roman even knew about the bar outing. I’d received a voice mail message earlier today that one would think would have been out of Roman’s hearing range. He’d either been standing really close, or nephilim just had superhuman hearing. And, well, seeing as they were superhuman, I supposed that wasn’t too far off.
Another idea suddenly came to mind about tonight’s social gathering, one that would most definitely provide a distraction—and possibly take care of a nuisance.
“The bar it is,” I declared.
I drove down to Pioneer Square, Seattle’s historic district, and sought out the Cellar, a dive of a bar located in a basement akin to its name. It was a favorite place for immortals—well, hellish immortals. Since most angels didn’t drink—Carter being the exception—you didn’t usually find them hanging out in bars. They were more likely to be found at upscale coffee shops. For inexplicable reasons, a number of them also liked to hang out at the restaurant on top of the Space Needle. Maybe they thought it was bringing them closer to Heaven.
And, indeed, as I walked down the stairs into the Cellar, I felt Carter’s signature, along with those of my usual clique. Best of all, there was an additional signature I’d been hoping to find.
“Hot damn,” I said, striding toward the table where Simone sat with my friends. She burned with the glow of energy that succubi stole from their victims. I hated to admit it, but hers was brighter than the one I still sported. I assured myself that it was just because she’d probably bagged someone today, rather than last night.
Hugh scooted to make room for me, and I pulled up a chair from a neighboring table. “Didn’t think you’d show tonight.”
I waved a waiter over and ordered a vodka gimlet. “You know I can’t stay away from you guys.”
“You’re just in time,” said Carter. His face was neutral, but I caught a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sipped his bourbon. “Simone was just regaling us with tales of the Underground Tour. Did you hear that Seattle burned to the ground and was rebuilt a century ago?”
“Only every time I take the tour,” I replied. Which had been about a dozen times. It was a tourist hotbed, and I’d taken friends and out-of-town victims on it often. I gave Simone a curious look. “Did you do that today?”
She nodded. “Figured I should take in the city while I’m here.” She was still using that librarian voice, but I had to admit she looked more like a succubus than the last time I’d seen her. Her neckline was cut so low, it was a wonder her nipples didn’t show. Her lips were fuck-me red, and unless I was mistaken, her hair was longer and more voluminous than before. I couldn’t decide if she looked like an angel or a beach bunny.
And speaking of angels…Simone had her chair pushed right next to Carter’s, so close that she couldn’t help but brush her arm against his each time she reached for her drink. I suspected her leg was pressed up to his as well.
He glanced over, giving her a look that wasn’t exactly romantic but filled with deep interest I felt certain was feigned.
“I find Seattle’s history fascinating. I haven’t been here that long, so it’s great to keep learning new things.”
Simone beamed. Across the table, Hugh choked a little on his drink. Carter had been in Seattle for a couple hundred years. True—not that long for an immortal like him, but he’d most
No physical evidence of Roman appeared—no signature, no physical appearance—but his voice answered me back just as softly. “Go see your friends. Aren’t they going to that bar tonight? You need to tell Cody he’s going on a double date.”
“It’s not a double date,” I growled back.
But Roman had a point. I probably should let the young vampire know what was in store tomorrow. I was also kind of curious how Roman even knew about the bar outing. I’d received a voice mail message earlier today that one would think would have been out of Roman’s hearing range. He’d either been standing really close, or nephilim just had superhuman hearing. And, well, seeing as they were superhuman, I supposed that wasn’t too far off.
Another idea suddenly came to mind about tonight’s social gathering, one that would most definitely provide a distraction—and possibly take care of a nuisance.
“The bar it is,” I declared.
I drove down to Pioneer Square, Seattle’s historic district, and sought out the Cellar, a dive of a bar located in a basement akin to its name. It was a favorite place for immortals—well, hellish immortals. Since most angels didn’t drink—Carter being the exception—you didn’t usually find them hanging out in bars. They were more likely to be found at upscale coffee shops. For inexplicable reasons, a number of them also liked to hang out at the restaurant on top of the Space Needle. Maybe they thought it was bringing them closer to Heaven.
And, indeed, as I walked down the stairs into the Cellar, I felt Carter’s signature, along with those of my usual clique. Best of all, there was an additional signature I’d been hoping to find.
“Hot damn,” I said, striding toward the table where Simone sat with my friends. She burned with the glow of energy that succubi stole from their victims. I hated to admit it, but hers was brighter than the one I still sported. I assured myself that it was just because she’d probably bagged someone today, rather than last night.
Hugh scooted to make room for me, and I pulled up a chair from a neighboring table. “Didn’t think you’d show tonight.”
I waved a waiter over and ordered a vodka gimlet. “You know I can’t stay away from you guys.”
“You’re just in time,” said Carter. His face was neutral, but I caught a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sipped his bourbon. “Simone was just regaling us with tales of the Underground Tour. Did you hear that Seattle burned to the ground and was rebuilt a century ago?”
“Only every time I take the tour,” I replied. Which had been about a dozen times. It was a tourist hotbed, and I’d taken friends and out-of-town victims on it often. I gave Simone a curious look. “Did you do that today?”
She nodded. “Figured I should take in the city while I’m here.” She was still using that librarian voice, but I had to admit she looked more like a succubus than the last time I’d seen her. Her neckline was cut so low, it was a wonder her nipples didn’t show. Her lips were fuck-me red, and unless I was mistaken, her hair was longer and more voluminous than before. I couldn’t decide if she looked like an angel or a beach bunny.
And speaking of angels…Simone had her chair pushed right next to Carter’s, so close that she couldn’t help but brush her arm against his each time she reached for her drink. I suspected her leg was pressed up to his as well.
He glanced over, giving her a look that wasn’t exactly romantic but filled with deep interest I felt certain was feigned.
“I find Seattle’s history fascinating. I haven’t been here that long, so it’s great to keep learning new things.”
Simone beamed. Across the table, Hugh choked a little on his drink. Carter had been in Seattle for a couple hundred years. True—not that long for an immortal like him, but he’d most
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