Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“Please,” Philippe replied. The clan leader walked directly over to the wall of windows above the bar and dance floor. The setup was a bit clichéd eighties drug lord, but he had to admit that he did enjoy being able to look down on his domain. And it didn’t hurt that some of his partners had enjoyed the two-way mirror glass that allowed him to fuck them while they stared at the oblivious masses.
Rafe poured two glasses of whiskey. He paused and adjusted himself while his back was still turned to Philippe, not that the vampire was blind to his dilemma. From what he could feel while in the hall, Philippe had a similar problem. The point was that they were moving past the moment to get to the necessary business.
“It really is a beautiful club,” Philippe said as he accepted the glass. “I can see why Jullien likes to come here.”
Rafe paused in the act of lifting his glass to his lips and smirked at Philippe. They were standing side-by-side in front of the glass, but there was at least two feet of open space between them. Something in Rafe demanded he close the gap, but he ignored the voice.
“Jullien comes to Blush for the same reason all the vampires come to my club. Drunk, horny humans flush with life and joy. The hunting is easy, and the blood tastes so much better when prey is begging for that orgasm.”
“True,” Philippe conceded with a small smile. “But I’ve never seen so many vampires from various clans in one place outside of the neutral zones where they weren’t trying to kill each other. I counted at least six others outside your staff.”
“There are twenty-one vampires inside Blush right now.”
Philippe’s eyes narrowed on Rafe as if weighing his words against his own powers. He shook his head slowly, his gaze returning to the dance floor. He stared at the people for a second, and Rafe could feel the brush of his power. Another couple of seconds passed, and Philippe spoke softly. “There can’t be.”
Still smiling, Rafe pulled his phone from his pocket and called Lola. He thumbed on the speakerphone and showed the phone to Philippe. The phone rang only once before the room was filled with the music from the dance floor.
“What’s up, Boss?” Lola greeted.
“What’s the count?” Rafe demanded.
“Including your guest?”
“Yes.”
“Twenty-one.”
“Thank you, love,” Rafe murmured and ended the call. He stared at Philippe as he tucked his phone into his pocket. “Everyone generally remains well-behaved. Any inappropriate behavior and the vampire is ejected and permanently banned.”
“A strong deterrent, considering that immortality is a long time.”
“True. But there are incidents on occasion. That’s why my staff and I keep a close watch on who and how many are in the club at any time.”
“I’m impressed.”
Rafe shrugged and took a drink of his whiskey. He was in control and on even footing with Philippe. Whatever silliness he’d been overwhelmed with when it came to the other vampire was gone now. Back to business.
“It’s why you’ve come to the Variks, why you wanted my assistance specifically. I’m so impressive.”
Philippe didn’t lose his smile, but there was a perceptiveness Rafe didn’t care for. “You mock me, but you’ve already proved to me that you’re quite skilled at taking care of your club and your people.”
Turning away from the window, Rafe walked over to the large leather chair positioned next to the sofa. It was tempting to sit on the matching sofa, but the assured distance created by the chair felt safer. He sat, extending his long legs in front of him, and gracefully motioned toward the leather-covered cushion. “Why don’t you tell me about your missing lamb?”
For the first time, Philippe’s expression soured, but he said nothing as he sat on the middle cushion.
“Piper Arsenault,” Philippe started and paused. He held his glass in both hands in front of him, his elbows on his knees. “She joined the clan about two…no, three years ago. She’s only twelve years old.”
“Quite young.”
Philippe hummed his agreement. “She’s largely kept to herself. I think she’s still finding her place among the clan. Reassuring herself that she fits and is safe.”
“Did she come to you from another clan?”
“No.”
“What about her maker? Could that vampire have wanted the fledgling back?”
Philippe was quick to shake his head. “No, her maker abandoned her. He has no interest in her.”
“You’re sure?”
Philippe frowned at Rafe for a second, then sighed. “I know. It’s an easy answer. Her maker swoops in and steals away his property again, but I assure you he has no interest. I did my own check, and I believe he’s currently in Spain. Has been for the past year. When I found Piper, she’d been on her own for nearly nine years.”
“Since…”
“Yes, since she was made. It’s amazing she survived.”
Rafe opened his mouth but shut it again without making a sound. He stared at Philippe, his expression open and a little worried. Rafe wasn’t one for watching his words, so why start now?