Page 63 of Blood Owed (Blood Mafia 1)
“That’s why Mateo banned him from the club. Three dead blood whores in two months is too many.”
Krik laughs when he returns. “Hey there, doll, you feeling all right?” He nudges me with his elbow. “She’s gone to the world right now, you want a private room?”
Drawing my eyebrows down, I give him a considering look. “A private room?”
He nods like he’s got the world’s biggest secret.
Grayson grabs Krik by the back of the neck and slams his face into the table.
I lean forward so I can speak into his ear. “Mateo doesn’t tolerate anyone taking advantage of the blood whores, Krik. Have you been a bad vampire?”
Krik sputters. “No, I swear it. This is the first time I’ve offered.”
Grayson snorts. “Has anyone ever told you bullshit stinks?”
“The boss is going to be very disappointed, Krik. This was a trial run promotion. You failed.”
He pales. “Come on, guys, I won’t do it again.”
“Shut him up,” Grayson says.
I’m a good listener, so I snap Krik’s neck. Grayson sighs dramatically. “I didn’t say kill him.”
I point to Krik. “He’s not talking anymore, is he?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Colt. . . you know what, never mind. I’ll take him to Mateo and deal with it. Can you find Lawrence and put him in charge?”
“Yeah, I got it. Don’t start without me.”
Grayson gives me a dark smile. “You killed him, now I have to wait for his body to repair itself before I can hurt him. My guess is you have thirty-nine minutes to find Lawrence and put him in charge.”
Vampire healing isn’t one-size fits all, so he’s estimating based on Krik’s age. The younger the vampire the slower the healing—vampire DNA evolves along with the vampire, growing stronger and smarter with each passing year.
“Fine, it better be worth the wait.”
Demi
No one comes to get me for dinner, and I don’t have any viable options for cooking. I could make eggs again, but having a damn good Italian restaurant in the same building is hard to resist. I toss on a pair of dark leggings, a long blue V-neck sweater dress, and black boots. Since someone left a blow dryer at my door and I fixed my hair earlier, all I have to do is add some mascara so I don’t look completely out of place.
The restaurant will be full of vampires in ridiculously expensive clothing. My bargain outfit will definitely stand out, but I’m praying the knife I’m carrying will be enough to deter any unwanted attention. I don’t have a purse, so I tuck the switchblade into the center of the bra. The black handle peeking out of the dress isn’t the greatest accessory. I’m not going to leave it behind though, not when I have no idea what to expect.
After closing my door and making sure it’s locked, I drop the electronic key inside my boot. I really need a purse.
I don’t run into anyone in the hall and the elevator is empty as I ride down to the first floor. By the time the doors open, I’m feeling confident everything will be fine, so long as I get food as soon as possible.
As with the night before, the dining room is packed. The bar is mostly empty, so I sit as far away from the couple drinking there as I can and keep my head down while I look over one of the menus.
“Hey there, sugar, what can I get you?” The bartender—a short woman with a no-nonsense look on her face—asks. Her white apron is crisply laid over her all black outfit.
“Can I have the fettuccine with a glass of sauvignon?”
She places a glass in front of me and fills it with water then goes to get my wine. “You want the little fet or the regular?” she asks when she returns, setting down the glass and a roll of silverware.
“Little fet,” I say, taking a sip of my wine. It’s crisp and perfectly chilled.
Take that, Grayson.
The bartender goes to put in my order, leaving me alone at the bar. I don’t have a phone to zone out on and I’m lost as to what to do with myself. I wish I could call Lexi and talk to her. Or my parents. If they haven’t figured out I’m missing by now, they will soon.
