Page 76 of Licence To Howl
‘Get out of here, you mangy dog,’ she hissed.
Devereau ignored her and strode up the bar. ‘Pint of beer,’ he ordered. There was no sign of Ronnie Hitchens. But then that was probably a good thing.
The bartender’s gaze flicked to the woman then back to him. ‘I don’t think –’
The pub door opened again. Devereau’s nostrils twitched but he didn’t turn round. ‘Just pour the drink,’ he growled. ‘And don’t try and slip anything in it this time.’
There was the click of high heels. A moment later, Alina Bonnet appeared by his side. ‘Well, well, well,’ she drawled. ‘This is an interesting establishment.’ She looked round, taking in the old woman and the bartender and obviously dismissing both of them as threats.
‘It might be a little less salubrious than what you’re used to,’ Devereau answered. ‘And it’s not the sort of place where someone as rich as you would want to spend their time.’ He watched the bartender as he placed the foaming drink in front of him. ‘But it has its charms. What would you like to drink?’
‘A glass of dry white wine.’
The bartender stared at her.
‘You don’t serve wine?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Prosecco?’
‘We’re not that kind of place.’
Alina sniffed. ‘Apparently. I’ll have a glass of water then. No ice.’
The bartender reached for a smudged glass and filled it up with tap water before putting it down in front of her. Both Alina and Devereau looked at it.
‘There’s something floating in that water,’ she said faintly. ‘Tell you what. I’ll go without.’ She sniffed and turned round, her eyes falling on a nearby table and chairs. ‘Shall we sit?’
Devereau gestured. ‘Ladies first.’
She did as he suggested. Devereau took the chair opposite and leaned back. He had to admit that she looked good. Her eyes were clear, her appearance was immaculate and, when he delicately sniffed the air, he could scent nothing beyond confident pleasure emanating from her. Alina Bonnet was not suffering from any sleepless nights or traces of guilt about what she’d done. Far from it.
‘If you know I’m rich, Mr Webb, then you know what I’ve done.’
Devereau didn’t miss a beat. ‘I’ve been following the news. I know what happened to Solentino. Given what he’d already implied about his upcoming plans, it doesn’t take a genius to work out what happened next.’ He met her gaze. ‘Does it bother you that I know?’
She crossed her legs. ‘Not particularly. You’ve not told that vampire of yours, have you?’
‘She’s not like us. She wouldn’t understand.’
Alina permitted herself a small smile. ‘I knew you of all people would get it. Christopher did too. It’s why he was so willing to bring you on board in the first place.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘The pursuit of wealth is a glorious thing.’
For the briefest moment, Devereau had a flashback to the Pantheon, and two young boys dressed covered in blood and dust and pain. ‘Indeed,’ he murmured. ‘Indeed.’
‘I tried to keep you out of it, you know. I persuaded Christopher to let you go so you wouldn’t be there when everything went down. It was thanks to me that you weren’t present.’ She licked her lips, enjoying the memory. ‘If you’d been in the apartment, you’d have met the same fate as he did. I liked you and I wanted to spare you that sort of ending.’
Possibly. But it was more likely the prospect of a werewolf and a vampire had been too much and she’d done what she could to keep both him and Scarlett out of the way. Alina had needed to control the situation. Two powerful supes would not have aided her cause in any way.
‘In that case,’ he answered aloud, ‘I should thank you.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You certainly should.’
He reached across the table and took her hand before lifting it to his lips. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, pressing his mouth to her skin with slow, deliberate languidity.
Alina couldn’t stop herself from shuddering in delight, although whether it was his open gratitude or the feeling of his lips on her hand, he wasn’t sure.
‘What you accomplished in that apartment,’ he said, ‘was so very impressive. Did you kill them all yourself?’
She laughed slightly. ‘Do you think I’m afraid of getting my hands dirty? Of course I did. At the end of the day, the only person I can truly trust is myself. Those idiots didn’t see it coming for a second. To them I was nothing more than Solentino’s bit of fluff. But I showed them all.’
‘You certainly did.’ Devereau injected the right amount of admiration into his voice. ‘And leaving your own blood at the scene was a particularly deft touch.’
