“Can do.” Bridget gave him a salute. “What are you two going to be doing in the meantime?”
Ant paused for a moment, exchanging a long look with Viktor. His vampire already knew he wasn’t going to like what Ant would say – Ant could feel that through their bond.It’s not going to stop me from saying it.
“Captain Bains and Hammond are both concerned about my having a vampire mate, because that same vampire has contacts in the criminal underworld. I want you to introduce me to some of them.” Ant smiled as Viktor’s mouth dropped open. “I want to speak to people in Carmine’s organization and in any other rival gangs in town – older people who might have heard the gossip about what was happening in Carol’s last year of life.”
“I didn’t have gang associations ten years ago. I wasn’t even in town then, I don’t think.” Viktor shook his head and then blew out a long breath. “But fine. I guess I can take you around a few places.”
“You think this is a wrong move?”
“I think if you wanted Carmine’s attention, you’d have been better to stick a target on your back with a sign that says, ‘shoot me now.’”
“This isn’t about getting Carmine’s attention. This is about finding Carol’s killers. Besides, you and Able will be with me.”
Viktor groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Would it help if I nibble your neck?” Ant asked. “Robert seems to keep Bridget in a good mood that way. Look how happy she’s been at breakfast.”
“And on that note, I’ll leave you to your plans and get on with mine.” Bridget got up from the table, grabbing her purse from the floor. “Keep him safe, Vik. I’m counting on you.”
“She is in a decidedly better mood, did you notice?” Ant said when he heard the front door close. “Does that neck nibbling idea really work?”
“We’ll find out if it works for you tonight, babe. In the meantime, let’s go and find some gangsters for you to talk to.”
Chapter Fourteen
What the hell are you doing?Viktor was arguing with himself. Two hours into their little sojourn through the seedier parts of town, he was seriously questioning his life choices. As a vampire, Viktor had never lacked confidence. He’d walked through the world, doing as he pleased, for the eight hundred plus years of his existence.
But escorting his mate, his very sweet and innocent by most standards mate, around the rundown bars that edged the port and that occupied spaces in some of the more questionable alleyways in town - even though it was the middle of the day - Viktor seriously wondered if he needed his head examined.
It didn’t help that Ant screamed “I don’t belong here” from every inch of his trim body, and that had nothing to do with Able, who remained alert and watchful by his side. Ant kept quiet for the most part, leaving Viktor no clue as to how he felt as they went from one bar to the next.
Viktor knew his mate was detail-orientated, but what value could he gain from noting the dingy decor and the surly glances thrown their way? But it was as though the grime and despair of the bars seemed to wash over Ant without touching him.
There were other times when Viktor fully expected him to pull out a notebook and start taking notes, as if Ant were on a field trip for the Mage Academy. All the while, Viktor questioned every face he vaguely recognized, trying to find somebody who was old enough to have been around when Carol had died.
Unfortunately, as was the case in life among the criminal elements, longevity wasn’t something that was guaranteed.
“We’ll go to this one last place,” Viktor said, “and then we’re going to have to call it a day. I can possibly pop back later this evening…”
“You would go without me?” Ant interrupted. “Am I doing something wrong? Do I look strange or out of place?” He glanced down at his T-shirt and his jeans. He was wearing his two-rip pair along with his boots.
“You look fine,” Viktor said. The problem was that no matter how casual the clothing was, it was the way Ant walked and carried himself that gave him away as a person of importance – or worse, an innocent. In that respect, it made him a target.
“I wouldn’t want to go anywhere without you,” Viktor added. “I simply feel that at night these places are not somewhere… I wouldn’t take you on a date at any of these places,” he finished lamely.
“That’s good then, because we’re not on a date,” Ant said. “This is work. We’re looking for Carol’s killers.”
“One step at a time. We’re looking for information about Carol’s killers,” Viktor said. “At the moment, I’m trying to find a man called Duncan.”
“Duncan? Wasn’t he the man who confessed to the Fallow’s murder on Tony’s behalf?”
“No, a different Duncan.” Viktor chuckled. Ant would remember details like that. “This Duncan is a lot older, and he’s the only person I can think of that hovered on the edge of Carmine’s crew and apparently has done for years. He also used to be on the fringe of the Manzano family as well. He’s old enough to know a lot, including how to stay out of trouble. If I can find him…”
“Doesn’t he have a phone number? We could call him and set up an appointment.”
Viktor chuckled. “He’s not the type to have a phone number, babe, and he never takes appointments.”
He pushed open the doors of the Salty Belle, wrinkling his nose as the stench washed over him. Viktor had never liked the place. During the day, a person could be rendered unconscious from the smell. At night, fights were dished out more regularly than food. The walls had never been cleaned. The floors were sticky under Viktor’s boots. The whole place stunk of cigarette smoke and spilled booze. Most of the tables were wobbly, and they were covered in gouges from the knife fights and goodness knows what else that went on in an evening’s trade.
