“Whatever Harley said, I’m sure it was fabricated from his delusions.” I scowled and sipped from my drink. Harley was a bitter subject for both Arys and I, each for different reasons. I doubted that would ever change.
Roscoe chuckled, a low throaty sound that struck another hidden chord in my memory. He shifted in his chair, his scent wafting to me. He smelled like expensive cologne, cigarettes and blood, all rolled into one nose-assaulting odor.
“Sounds like you really knew him.” Roscoe leaned across the table, dangerously close. He ignored Shaz, who leaned in as well. “Before you killed him.”
“We’re not playing this game. I came here to escape masculine, pseudo-macho bullshit and head games. Spare me the crap.” I held his gaze, letting the wolf show in my eyes. I kept my power tightly contained so it wouldn’t change my brown eyes to Arys’s vampire blue. This guy didn’t need to see it.
Jez glanced nervously at the door as the cold wind of Arys’s arrival swept over me. He strode into the bar with a cool, composed demeanor, but I could feel the storm building within him.
Arys was a dark dream in black leather. Blue jeans and a white t-shirt along with a leather jacket and his sexy mess of ebony hair gave him a slightly 50s greaser look. No matter how many times I saw him walk into a room, I couldn’t help but swoon.
With the grace of the undead, he moved through the bar. His dark-blue gaze locked on Roscoe, who stood in time for Arys to grab him around the throat. He jerked the other vampire close and shook him.
“What the hell do you want, Roscoe?” Arys snarled. “You know what happens if any of you touch her.”
Roscoe raised both hands and shook his head. “Hey, brother, take it easy. There’s been no touching. Just scoping out the tip that you were in town.”
“I have as much a right to be here as you do. We won’t be around long, so just stay out of our way.” Arys released his hold on Roscoe so they stood nose to nose.
“You know Jenner will want more than that. Why are you here?” Roscoe took a step back, an action that spoke volumes. The same vampire may have sired them, but Arys had dominance here.
Jenner…that name rang a bell though I couldn’t put a face to it. When I killed Harley, I hadn’t entertained the idea that I might have to face the vampires tied to him. It had been hard enough to face Arys. Nervous, I wished for a moment that we’d vacationed somewhere else, where nobody knew who I was.
“Tell Jenner he should be on his knees praying every night that I don’t show my face in his club while I’m here. If he wants trouble, I’ll bring him trouble.” The atmosphere hummed with the intensity of Arys’s growing ire.
Nobody in the bar paid him any attention. They were all too caught up in their own evasion of reality to notice or care that two men glared at one another like dogs about to fight.
Roscoe slid a glance my way. “You shouldn’t have brought her here.”
“Why? Are you afraid of her? You probably should be.”
“Look, Arys, I have no issue with you, but I’m Jenner’s right hand. I’m just here to deliver a message: Get out of town or be driven out.” Roscoe shrugged, and his long brown hair fell over one eye. “Sorry. Gotta keep tabs on the city. Security, you know.”
Arys caught my eye, and a mischievous grin lit up his face. “Be sure to remind Jenner that Alexa is the one who killed Harley. He should have considered that very carefully before he sent the welcome wagon with a threat.”
Oh geez. My stomach flip-flopped, and I almost choked on my next sip of booze. Shaz regarded both vampires with curious interest. He didn’t need to have Arys’s memories to tell there was some serious history between them. Jez ran a finger around the edge of her glass, watching with trepidation as her hopes for a carefree party week shattered with the inevitable vampire pissing contest.
Roscoe took one last perusal of our table. He lingered on Shaz as the two of them had a predatory stare down. When he finally dragged his gaze back to Arys, he said, “If I were you, I’d hop the first flight out of here after sunset.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Crossing his arms, Arys gave a halfhearted shrug.
“If you’re here to move on Harley’s turf—”
Arys cut in. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Roscoe clamped his mouth shut. A glare made his tough features downright scary. He nodded curtly and shoved past Arys, exiting the bar.
I sighed and downed the rest of my drink in one swallow. Might as well keep ’em coming. If this was an indication of how the rest of the trip would go, I might need to stay drunk to get through it without having a nervous breakdown.
I flew fourteen hundred miles to have a few days to myself. So much for that.
Chapter Two
I shoved the door to our suite open, happy to be away from the hotel buzz below. I needed a quiet, safe place to gather my thoughts and interrogate Arys.