Page 2 of The Incubus and the Bodyguard

“It hasn’t started yet.”

There was a short silence. “Let’s hope this goes off without a hitch,” the head of theBlack Devilssaid in a tired voice. “We have a lot riding on it.”

Vlad frowned. He could imagine his uncle smoking one of the cigars he liked so much behind the white granite desk in his modern study, in the fifteen-thousand-square-foot Brooklyn mansion he called his home.

“You know, I’m not sure I’m enjoying the new role our overlords in Moscow decided to bestow upon us,” the incubus said coolly. “None of our men signed up for this gig to be peacemakers of the criminal underworld.”

“Be that as it may, we can’t be seen to fail,” Yuliy grunted. “Our reputation will suffer a huge blow if this peace deal falls through.”

Vlad ran a hand irritably through his hair.

He supposed he should be grateful his uncle had sent him to mediate the negotiations between the Lucianos and theRed DragonTriad rather than make him sit through another lecture about his duties as the heir to their group.

A familiar figure appeared in the dining room doorway.

Vlad stared.

“By the way, I forgot to mention something,” Yuliy said. “Someone will be acting as an external observer for these negotiations. Call it backup in case things go wrong and we get blamed for it.”

“Would this someone be a former member of theBacatá Cartelby any chance?” Vlad asked with a sigh.

“How’d you know?” Yuliy said without compunction.

“I’m looking at him.”

Vlad ended the call and watched the man coming toward him.

“Really, an external observer?” he asked Enrique Cortes drily. He grabbed the Colombian’s hand and pulled him into a quick bear hug.

“What can I say?” Cortes smiled. “I’m apparently a popular peacekeeper in the criminal underworld.”

Vlad grimaced. They both knew Cortes used to be one of the most ruthless mobsters in South America before his core was repaired by Mae a few months back and he officially returned to the world of magic as the head of the Medellin coven.

The Colombian sorcerer’s familiar hopped down from his shoulder and landed lightly on Tarang’s head.

“How’re you doing there, tiger?” Popo said brightly.

Tarang huffed testily at the red Macaw.

“Did someone forget to take his happy pills this morning?” Popo asked with undeterred cheerfulness.

Vlad arched an eyebrow. “Why is he so peppy?”

“I may have promised to take him on a date to his favorite place in the city tomorrow,” Cortes replied with a long-suffering sigh.

“And where’s that, exactly?” Vlad said warily.

“The zoo.” Cortes shrugged at Vlad’s expression. “I don’t get it either. You’d think it’d be the last place he’d want to go, what with being in a cage most of his life.”

“Your parrot is weird.”

“I have the same thought every single day,” Cortes muttered.

A waiter brought them drinks.

Vlad took the glass of champagne and looked out over Madison Avenue.

“Have you heard from Mae?” Cortes asked, his gaze on the bright lights outside.

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