Page 29 of Golden Eagle

“I’ll go first,” Alexei said, and started down the ladder.

After a moment, he heard Jamie mutter a curse and follow.

The usual nighttime doorman – door wolf – had been replaced with a near-identical comrade. Also a wolf, also bound. He smelled, Alexei now knew, like Gustav.

“Good morning,” Alexei greeted brightly.

The wolf lifted a disinterested glance and grunted.

Jamie landed behind him, and reeked of anxiety.

Alexei could relate, somewhat. Being around a large, powerful wolf who wasn’t a packmate or Familiar had a certain nerve-wracking quality. But they were vampires:Rasputin-related vampires. They had this. And Jamie needed to learn how to embrace his strengths.

“We’re going in, then, if you please.”

The wolf finally looked at them – judgmentally – then cracked the seal on the door and opened it on its squealing hinges.

Nameless looked a little bigger when it was empty. Only the human bounty hunter occupied his usual booth; the bartender, Carey, stood slouched on his elbows, playing with his phone. The usual blue neon slicked everything in a sickly glow.

“Wow,” Jamie said, deadpan, “what a nice place you brought me to.”

“Shut up.” He went to the bar, and Jamie followed. What else could he do?

Once they’d pulled out stools, and climbed onto them, Carey the wolf finally lifted his head, gaze disinterested. He smelled of wariness, though.

“You,” he said flatly.

“Yes, me,” Alexei said. “I’ve brought a friend. Is your master here?”

“No.”

“Do you know when he’ll be in?”

“No.”

“You’re his Familiar.”

Carey stared at him a moment, expression bored – still giving off anxiety. “Do you want vodka?”

Alexei sighed. “Yes.”

“I don’t want vodka,” Jamie hissed when Carey turned to pour their drinks. “It’s ten in the morning.”

“One vodka won’t get you drunk,” Alexei said, accepting the two glasses as they thumped down in front of him. “It’s good for you. Here. Drink up.”

He threw his own down and motioned for another.

Jamie sipped at his with a shudder.

“I have to get a new bottle,” Carey said, and went out from behind the bar and through aStaff Onlydoor that must have led into a storeroom.

Jamie said, “Lex, what are we doing here?”

If these silly twenty-first century children were going to insist on a nickname, he supposedLexwas better than the dreadedAlex.

“Hey,” Jamie prompted, when Alexei only stared down into his empty glass.

“I come in here sometimes,” he finally said. “It’s an immortal bar.”

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