Page 4 of The Incubus and the Bodyguard

Vlad turned. Ilya had appeared in the doorway. His oldest serving bodyguard was dressed in an immaculate black suit that hid the gun under his left armpit, his face set in the stony expression that was his calling card. Milo, Vlad’s second bodyguard, appeared behind Ilya.

“They’re here,” Ilya said tersely.

A buzz of tension coursed through Vlad. He focused on the reason they were there tonight.

“Show them in.”

CHAPTERTWO

Giovanni Luciano entered first.The don of the Italian crime family was accompanied by his youngest son, Marco, and flanked by four men who moved with the deadly grace of trained killers. Though in his late sixties, Giovanni still cut an imposing figure, his silver hair swept back from an austere face that had graced the cover ofTimemagazine twice.

Behind him came Wei Chen, her designer dress emphasizing a figure that belied her seventy years. The leader of theRed DragonTriad had taken over her husband’s empire after his death a decade ago and turned it into one of the most powerful criminal organizations in Asia and the United States.

She was escorted by her son James and a couple of bodyguards who looked like they could snap a person in half without breaking a sweat.

“Welcome toOro Divino.” Vlad put his glass on a side table and strolled across the room, a charming smile stretching his mouth. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

Giovanni grunted a greeting. Wei Chen’s ruby-painted lips curved.

“Always a pleasure, Vlad,” she purred.

Her gaze swept over him appreciatively, lingering on his broad shoulders and his chest.

Vlad’s smile didn’t falter.

It wasn’t the first time Wei Chen had attempted to hit on him. He’d learned early on in his dealings with her that it was all a carefully crafted act, designed to make people underestimate her razor-sharp mind.

“Please.” He indicated the dining table. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

The crime bosses and their sons took seats opposite one another, their retinues standing to attention to the side. Ilya and Milo positioned themselves near the door, hands clasped loosely in front of them.

Cortes strolled to an armchair by the window, seemingly absorbed in his phone. Popo preened his feathers nonchalantly on the Colombian’s shoulder.

Vlad knew better. Both the sorcerer and his familiar would unleash mayhem at a moment’s notice.

James Chen observed Cortes with a pinched expression. “What’s he doing here?”

Marco Luciano was similarly eyeing the Colombian like he was a piece of trash stuck to the bottom of his designer shoe.

Vlad dimly recalled there was no love lost between the three men.

“OurBratvaappointed him as an external observer.”

Though he kept his tone light, Wei Chen’s and Giovanni’s expressions cooled at his hidden warning.

At least now everyone knows where they stand.

A low rumble had him looking down. Tarang stood stone-still beside him. He was staring at something Vlad couldn’t see, his pupils gleaming with a faint trace of crimson magic.

Vlad’s scalp prickled. He focused on his familiar’s bond and picked up on the unease thrumming through it.

Tarang blinked, sudden confusion flowing across their connection. He unfroze, his tail swaying anxiously.

Vlad scanned the room. He couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary.

Giovanni made an impatient sound.

Vlad masked his disquiet and settled into the chair at the head of the table.

---