Page 91 of Blood Owed (Blood Mafia 1)
A table for eight sits prominently in the middle of the room; a large elegant chandelier drops from the ceiling, hovering a few feet above the center of the table. The burgundy tablecloth is silky soft and the black goblets and glasses for water contrast beautifully with the fabric. The thousands of dollars decor isn’t the most impressive thing in the room though.
At the head of the table sits a man nearly twice as big as Mateo. He stands when we enter, stretching to nearly seven feet tall. His arms are bigger than my thighs and the black shirt he’s wearing stretches over pound upon pound of solid muscle. His eyes flash yellow as he stares at Mateo.
I let out a tiny gasp when I realize who this is, drawing the full force of his attention.
Little Red Riding Hood greatly undersold how terrifying the big bad wolf was. Before me stands Blaze, Heir Alpha of the South Western USA. The greater alpha who has a direct line to the elders, not some loser alpha running one city. He runs an entire region of wolves, and the little bit Kevin told me about him was terrifying.
His alpha power slams into me, making my knees knock and my heart skip. Mateo’s hand rubs along my forearm, reminding me who I’ve come with. Sharp teeth flash at me when he smiles, and the glow in his eyes fades. His power recedes with it. Then I notice three of his men standing behind him, arms crossed over their chests and glares pointed at Mateo.
“Hello, Demetria.”
My name doesn’t sound as pleasant coming from his mouth.
“Hello,” I say, not letting my calm façade slip. Sure, he can hear the pounding of my heart, but he won’t get any other reaction from me.
He gestures to the seats. “Sit down.”
Mateo doesn’t move and neither do I.
“I’m not one of your wolves to command.” There’s ice in Mateo’s words.
Blaze narrows his eyes but wisely asks, “Would you care to join me?”
A vicious smile forms on Mateo’s face. “That’s better.”
Grayson appears in front of me, pulls out a chair, and indicates with his eyes that I should sit. Mateo lets my arm go and takes the seat next to me, directly opposite of Blaze. Mateo flicks his finger at his men. Colt sits on his right and Grayson takes the one to my left.
Blaze watches us, offering no invitations to sit to his men.
A waitress takes our drink orders. The vampires order blood cocktails, I order an expensive Malbec since Mateo is paying. Blaze orders an old-fashioned with hedge witch bitters, specially made bitters that double the effect of the alcohol.
When she leaves, no one speaks. The silence is tense as the two leaders on opposite ends of the supernatural spectrum lock gazes. The shift in the air is anything but subtle as Mateo unleashes his power, shoving his strength at Blaze with all the grace of a bull in a house made of glass.
When Blaze’s eyes shift and his power intertwines with Mateo, I stop breathing. The dick measuring contest is going to be the death of me.
Grayson’s fingers brush over the back of my neck, the simple touch reminding me to breathe. He keeps his hand against my skin while we wait.
Blaze blinks a few times, the slightest of slips, and the spell is broken. He folded to Mateo’s power. Grayson’s hand leaves me. I hate that I miss the soothing contact because he’s still on my shit list.
The waitress returns with the drinks. As soon as she sets my wine on the table, I drink half of it.
Blaze smirks when I move my gaze in his direction for a few seconds. I don’t meet his eyes and instead turn and face Mateo, who’s watching me with a curious look.
“What do you want, Blaze?” Mateo asks this while he stares at me. His actions are disrespectful, but the ridiculous vampire doesn’t give a damn.
We all know who would win a fight. Vampires are the top of the supernatural food chain, below them are the wolves and witches. I’m not counting the beings from other realms, the fae and demons are a whole other breed of trouble.
“I think you know why I called on you.” Blaze’s yellow eyes burn when they brush over my face.
Oh hell no. They will not sell me off to the fucking alpha dick.
I take another drink of wine, and when I set the goblet down, I let my hand fall on the serrated knife. Mateo’s hand falls over mine when I curl my fingers around the handle.
I scowl at him and let all of my thoughts bleed across my face.
His lips barely twitch.
Is he laughing at me?
