Page 2 of Fallen

Better not to appear too eager. Besides, let the prick sweat. He deserved it for how he treated his employees. The Dahlia made DeGarmo a boatload of money; the man could afford air-conditioning—or at least a damn fan—and decent furniture for his staff.

His smile hardened into something dangerous. “I suggest you hear what they have to say.”

I lifted a shoulder, let it drop. “If you insist…”

Back in the club, the performers had entwined themselves into a human ball that slowly unfolded into a four-sided flower. They raised their arms, petal-like, to a silver spotlight standing in for the moon. The male hoisted one of the women onto his shoulders. She grasped the trapeze and swung herself up on the bar in a single graceful movement.

The five vampires, all of whom had neck tats linking them to the Quebec City Syndicate, eyed me like they were calculating my worth on the open market. The black walls pressed in on me. The vampires’ enticing scent swirled around me like a dangerous caress.

I straightened my spine, channeling my inner Lucy Liu. “You wanted to see me?” I asked in English.

I also spoke fluent Spanish and some Korean, but I was still learning French. If this was to be a negotiation, I wanted it to be in English so I knew exactly what I was agreeing to.

DeGarmo sucked in a furious breath. “Pardon Mademoiselle Lee, if you please,” he told the vampires. “She forgets herself.”

“It’s of no matter,” said the dark-haired man sitting beside the blond female. “Introduce us.”

“Of course. My apologies.” He indicated the couple. “This is M’sieur Lemaire and Madame Fleur.”

“Enchanté,” they murmured.

I pulled my lips into a smile. “Likewise.”

“Asseyez-vous.” Lemaire nodded at the leather armchair across the table from him.

DeGarmo pulled it out, and I lowered myself into it.

“That will be all,” Lemaire told DeGarmo, who shot me a be-good glare and left, leaving me with five hungry-eyed vampires.

Still in Lucy-Liu mode, I raised a finger at a server named Claire. “A French 75,s’il teplaît.” In the three weeks I’d worked here, I’d developed a taste for the lemony cocktail. “You don’t mind buying me a drink, do you, M’sieur?” I smiled at Lemaire.

“It’s my pleasure,” he returned. “S’il vous plaît,” he told Claire. “And bring us another bottle of blood-wine.”

While we waited for our drinks, I lifted my long hair from my shoulders both because I was hot and because I wanted to draw attention to my neck. “Is this your first time in the Dahlia?”

Lemaire’s gaze locked on my throat, and Fleur licked her lips again. Her irises, an eerie yellow that was almost an exact match for her hair, gleamed like dull suns.

A couple of nearby humans cast me envious glances, clearly wishing they could be in my place. If they only knew…

“No,” said Lemaire. “But it’s been a few months.”

I released my hair, letting it settle on my shoulders again. “I didn’t think I’d seen you before.” I lowered my voice, an eager wannabe thrall. “I would’ve remembered you.”

“Would you, now?” Lemaire’s smile sent ice shivering over my skin.

Claire brought my cocktail and the blood-wine. She opened it and topped up the five vampires’ glasses.

I took a gulp of my drink. The French 75 packs a kick—gin and champagne will do that—and right now, I needed a kick.

“You’re alone in Quebec?” asked Fleur.

“I am, yeah. I’m hoping to stay, though. Otherwise I have to leave when my ninety days are up.”

Lemaire’s eyes hooded. “And when is that?”

“End of August.”

“You would like to remain in Canada?” asked Fleur.

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