Page 5 of The Incubus and the Bodyguard

The staff began serving the food.

“Shall we begin?” Vlad said as they finished their entrées. “I believe we’re here to discuss the matter of the Brooklyn docks.”

Giovanni’s weathered face hardened. “Those docks have belonged to my family for three generations.” He stabbed his mullet fillet sautéed in sea snail sauce, his gimlet eyes on Wei Chen.

“Yet your men killed two of my people there last week,” the Triad leader said silkily. She cut delicately into a seared duck breast served with passion fruit, endive, and a parfait of livers.

“They were trespassing on private property,” Giovanni grunted.

“Since when is murder the answer to trespassing?” Wei Chen countered.

Giovanni’s eyes shrank to slits. He pointed his fork at the Triad leader.

“So, you admit they were trespassing?”

Vlad swallowed a sigh and took a sip of his water.

Maybe I should have ordered whiskey.

Tarang issued a berating huff where he’d plopped on the floor next to his chair.

Wei Chen put her cutlery down and dabbed daintily at her mouth with her linen napkin. “That’s not what I said, Gio. And I would appreciate it if your lackey stopped playing with that trigger.” Her dark gaze found Marco.

Giovanni’s son’s hand was on the gun in his shoulder holster.

The Triad bodyguards shifted, their movements so subtle most people would have missed them. James Chen tensed, one hand sliding toward the weapon Vlad knew he carried at his back.

“How about everyone calms down?” Vlad said coldly. “We’re here for a negotiation, not a shoot-out.”

Giovanni cut his eyes to his son. Marco relented and dropped his hand from his gun. The Italian don’s attention returned to his nemesis.

“Your dealers were moving their products through our territory without my family’s permission.” His voice dropped dangerously. “What did you expect would happen?”

“We had an agreement.” Wei Chen’s perfectly manicured nails drummed the tablecloth, her face tight. “Or have you conveniently forgotten the arrangement we came to regarding the movement of certain goods through your routes?”

“That agreement was nullified the moment you started dealing with the Jamaicans,” Giovanni retorted.

Vlad’s pulse quickened. This was the first he was hearing about Caribbean elements getting involved in the New York underworld. Across the room, Cortes had lowered his phone, his expression growing focused.

“The deal my Triad has with certain parties in Kingston is none of your concern, Gio,” Wei Chen said curtly. “Besides, nothing is set in stone yet. We are still investigating our potential business partners.”

Marco leaned forward, his expensive suit pulling tight across his shoulders. “Be that as it may, it becomes our concern when those parties start moving through our territory without paying their dues.”

“You mean the protection money you charge that’s three times what we agreed upon?” James snapped.

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Vlad could practically taste the animosity crackling between the two heirs.

“Gentlemen.” He kept his voice measured and released a faint wave of the incubus charm that had gotten him out of many a tricky situation in the past. “Perhaps we should take a moment to?—”

Something strange brushed against his senses, like oil sliding over water. Vlad stiffened.

The sensation made his skin crawl.

Tarang’s growl vibrated against his leg. The tiger’s alarm flooded their bond as he uncoiled and rose, hackles rising and muscles bunching beneath his gleaming coat.

Cortes straightened across the way. “Do you feel that?”

Popo had stopped preening his feathers and was watching the room with unusual intensity.

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