Page 20 of Burn for Her

Lena didn’t argue about the bill. Instead of paying for her lunch, she tucked more than enough money into the tip jar and stuck her tongue out when Carmen made a noise about it. She also stuffed the jar with the folded envelope with Carmen’s name scrolled across the front. She’d get it at the end of the night—and would find out her loan with Lena was forgiven and no longer existed. She owed Lena nothing.

Smiling to herself, Lena headed back to her car with a sack full of oh hells yes. Taking the first bite, she winced when the hot corn hit her damaged tongue. Looking in her rearview, she checked her tongue out and was impressed it healed so fast. Not fast enough to not hurt like hell from the hot sauce, but it was way better than it had been. Her face was still a lovely collage of bruises—some blue and black, others greenish yellow. At least the swelling around her eye had gone down, considerably, and it wasn’t so bloodshot anymore. She avoided her reflection for five days now because the reminder of her loss in that fight really pissed her off. Her pride was way more bruised than her face, honestly.

Idiocy wasn’t a good look for her.

Her cell rang and she glanced at the screen. Unknown number. Not helpful, considering the circles she ran in.

“Hello?”

“Lena McKay?”

“Yeah?”

“A trusted colleague has made us aware that you’re looking for certain entertainment at our establishment.”

She clutched her cell and dropped the taco she was about to crush into her lap. “Yes,” she said steadily, praying like hell her tone remained calm even while the rest of her screamed with excitement. “I’m interested to see what you have to offer.”

“We have an opening tomorrow for a tour.”

Tomorrow? How the hell was she going to get to New Orleans by tomorrow? And shit! Her face! She was going to look like a disaster during the one time she wanted to look perfect. Oh well. “What time?”

“There will be an envelope waiting for you at the front desk of the hotel.”

She didn’t have a hotel reserved yet. “I don’t—"

“Room reservations have been sent to your email.”

Wow, that was… uhhh…

“Do you accept our invitation?”

Like she had a choice? This was a once in a lifetime shot. Lena looked into her rearview mirror and smiled. “I’ll be there.”

Dorian ignored his cell phone ringing while he got dressed. But after the damned thing wouldn’t shut the fuck up, he grabbed his phone, ready to crush the thing for having the sheer audacity to not stop ringing. Lucian’s number lit up the screen. Then there was a knock at the door.

Pulling his shirt down, Dorian marched to his front door and swung it open without looking through the peephole first. In his current mood, any unwanted guests would be sure to never come back. As it was, however, Lucian scowled at him from the other side of the threshold. “Answer your fucking phone!”

“I was in the shower.”

Reading Lucian’s vibes, he’d probably thought Dorian had burst into flames already. Lucian barreled past him and came inside. “Marius has demanded retribution.”

“For what?”

“The House of Bone said you didn’t execute their last prisoner according to plan.”

“I did them one better.” He annihilated the Savag-Ri and ate his heart. After dismembering the bastard, of course. “That was a complete waste of time.” It also happened to be the second prisoner this week Marius threw to the monster for execution. That tiny detail hadn’t slipped Dorian’s mind, no matter how dark it was growing lately. “Our job is to take out the Savag-Ri before they do the same to us. He needs to remember what kind of creature he is in this war.”

“Fangs or not, Marius is an opportunist. He does nothing without an agenda.”

“Then why do we always entertain him and the House of Bone?”

“You know why,” Lucian seethed. “And Marius insists you didn’t question that Savag-Ri before taking him out.”

Dorian was about to reject that accusation but stopped himself. Had he questioned the guy? Nope. He’d gone overboard. A mistake he might apologize for eventually. “I’ll give him back his money.”

“That payment went to the House.”

“I’ll pay him out of my personal account, then.”

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