Page 30 of Shadow Running
No windows offered a look inside the bar, but a beautiful stained glass sign the length of the bar adorned the top of the wall, illuminated from within.A spray of red roses coiled out from the center of the window, swirling with vines and leaves.Whoever had created it was a talented artist.The design was deceptively simple, elegant and understated.Yet when I looked closer, I could see the metalwork running through it, sectioning off each petal, stem, and thorn, creating an intricate thread of outlines.
“That’s gorgeous,” I said, pointing to the sign.
“Yeah, it took money to have someone make that,” Dante added.
We stood in front of the bar for a moment, then—taking a deep breath—I opened one of the heavy double doors and entered, with Dante right behind me.
At the front, inside of the bar, stood a hostess station.Behind the station, booths lined both sides of the bar.The bar stretched across the back, and tables were scattered across the middle of the floor.Doors to the left and right of the bar led to what I assumed was the kitchen, given this was a bar and grill, not just a bar for drinks.
Several tables were occupied, and a few of the booths.I glanced around.Lazenti waved us over to a booth near the door.A vampire, he had once been a private eye, and now he worked for us.He was gorgeous—more so than any man had the right to be—in that dark, glam mobster way.Trim but muscled, he wore a tailored crimson suit jacket over a black shirt, with a black and white plaid tie.His jeans were black and expensive, his motorcycle boots—polished black.He had pulled his dark, wavy hair back into a smooth ponytail.
Lazenti stood as we approached and removed the wraparound shades he’d been wearing to reveal pale eyes—almost frost white, with rings of crimson around the irises.
“Kyann, Dante, thank you for meeting with me,” he said, motioning to the booth.
Dante slid in, then I followed.Lazenti returned to the other side.
“Thanks for calling.Is the demon still here?”I asked.
“Yeah.”Then, with barely the nod of his head, he gestured to a booth across the room.
I glanced, following his lead.Sure enough, there was a man in the center booth.From here, in the dim light, it was difficult to see what he looked like.But the moment I caught sight of him, something inside woke up.I recognized him—his energy, his nature.A shiver raced down my spine, and I caught my breath.
Like recognizes like…My people…he belongs to my people.
I’d never met another demon before, at least anyone but Devon, and this man was of my blood.The feeling was strange—and until now, I never realized that I’d felt so incredibly alone on a gut, cellular level.I loved all my friends, but I was different.
“You’re staring,” Dante whispered, poking me in the ribs.
Startled, I shook my head and turned back to Lazenti.“He didn’t give you his name, right?”
“Right.Well, do you want to talk to him?”
“I want to know what he was doing at Edward Trask’s house,” I said.“I’m going over.Cover me.”I stood, motioning for Dante and Lazenti to follow me.As we crossed the room, I kept my gaze glued on the demon.
He looked up as we neared his table.His eyes flashed, mirroring mine in color, and his hair shifted, gleaming lilac and dark violet, but it reminded me of my own in its gradient shades.It was long, like mine, and coiled down his shoulders and back in silky strands.He watched us approach, still silent, his glass in hand.Dressed in black leather—pants and jacket—he looked muscled from what I could tell, and tall.
I neared the booth and stopped, staring at him.Dante and Lazenti stopped a few paces behind me.The demon waited, still silent.I felt him reaching out—as though invisible antennae were tracing my aura, tickling me with questions.Whoever spoke first would secede power to the other.That much I knew.And I was also aware that no way would he be the first to capitulate.I decided to toss out the bait and see if he’d bite.
“What brings you over to this side of the tracks?”I asked, jamming my hands in my pockets.
He didn’t answer at first, then glanced at Lazenti.“I know you—I talked to you the other day.”It wasn’t a question.Then, without missing a beat, he turned back to me.“Not many of our kind over here, are there?Although…you’re half-blood.”
I shrugged, then said, “You visited a man named Edward Trask.I need to know why.”Then, realizing he wasn’t about to answer without me offering him a little more, I added, “I’m Kyann Sarasan, and yes, I’m half Arosien.”
The demon showed the first sign of startlement.He straightened.“Your name is Sarasan?”
I nodded.“Why?”
After a moment, he motioned to the seat opposite him.“Sit.Your friends can sit too, if they want.”With a sniff, he said, “Wolf shifter and…of course, vampire.I trust you knew I was here due to your fanged friend?”
“Not many Arosiens make their way over here,” I said.
“Not many, no.Not often.There are a few who live here permanently.Like you do,” he added.
I had the oddest feeling that he knew more about me than I did about him.“How do you know I live here?And why were you looking up Edward Trask?”
“I just know.How doyouknow about Trask?”He shifted, sipping his drink.“Would you like something to drink?”he asked, raising his arm and snapping his fingers.
