by Sarah Blair
Megan came down. “So soon?”
“Sorry to eat and run,” Mitch said. “We have a situation. Dinner was delicious, though. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She smiled. “You guys be careful, okay?”
“It was nice meeting you, cousin once removed,” Banks grinned. “Thanks for the lasagna, and the ice pack. I’m sure we’ll see you again soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” Megan gave him a hug, then squeezed Sidney tight and spoke quietly in her ear. “Take care of my man.”
“Always.” Sidney gave her an extra squish back. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Don’t wait up, my little love bug.” Williams grabbed his wife in a bear hug and gave her a sloppy kiss.
“We’ll see you guys there,” the chief said.
Twenty-One
Mitch double parked around the block from the club and cut off the engine. Sidney didn’t move.
“I’m sorry I yelled earlier. I know what it must have been like to walk in on two guys taking another body. Especially after what happened the night Tom was killed,” he said. “Just because I don’t condone your actions doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.”
“Thanks.” Sidney appreciated the apology, but she was too nervous about seeing Dimitrius again to show it.
He reached over and took her hand, kissing the tips of her fingers. It was a small gesture, but it made her feel better.
“Go in, smooth things over, then meet me back at my place. You still have the extra key, right?”
She nodded, but stayed where she was.
“Talk to me, what’s bothering you about this?”
“I haven’t set foot inside a club in six years.”
The streetlight reflected off his lenses as he leveled his gaze on her. “You’re not that girl anymore.”
She stared at her lap. “Thanks to you.”
“What else?” He squeezed her hand like he might pull the words out of her.
“There’s something not right about Dimitrius. I feel like he can read my mind or something. He smells . . . weird.”
The streetlight reflected off Mitch’s lenses as he leveled his gaze on her. “He smells weird.”
“I don’t know, maybe the whole rich and powerful thing just reminds me too much of my grandfather.”
Mitch rested his head back against the seat.
“Dimitrius is nothing like Alexander Lake.” He circled his thumb around each of her knuckles. “I know that much, at least.”
Sidney scrunched her nose. “Speaking of my grandfather, he called me this morning.”
Mitch frowned. “Why?”
“He wanted to know why I was in the hospital.”
“How did he find out?”
“No idea.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. He only wants to use me to make himself look better.” Sidney nibbled her lower lip. “I mean, how would it seem if I had some disease he could cure and didn’t?”
“You didn’t say anything about being bitten?” Mitch squeezed her hand so hard it hurt.
“No! Like he’d believe me anyway? He spent a fortune on therapists to convince me my dreams weren’t real. We all know how that turned out.”
He massaged her knuckles with his thumb and stared out the window as a surge of traffic swooshed by.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He turned back to her and gave her a reassuring smile that didn’t quite shine in his eyes. “You should get going.”
She pouted.
“You’ll be fine.” He grabbed her and caught the pout of her lower lip between his own. They kissed long and slow and she forgot all about her grandfather, Dimitrius, everything. They kissed until her body ached and her face stung from the scrape of his five o’clock shadow.
“Call me when you’re done,” he said.
She ran her hand up his leg, but he caught it and shook his head.
“Quit stalling.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You kissed me first.”
“Go.”
She slid out of the car and checked up and down for traffic before she jogged across the middle of the road. The pavement was wet and shiny from a fresh rain and the long line of patrons waiting outside sent up little puffs of white. Sidney combed her fingers through her hair, glad for the cold night air to lower her temperature. It wasn’t as good as an icy bath, but it would have to do.
The huge wooden doors stood open and the thud, thud, thud of the music leaked out onto 6th Avenue. Some of the people in line moved to the beat, either inspired by the music or simply trying to stay warm.
The crowd eyed her carefully as she approached the huge bouncer. He was taller than the chief and almost as wide around as an Ogre. The circumference of his bicep alone was bigger than Sidney’s head. His skin was so dark he was like a huge shadow standing in front of the door.
Despite his massive size, she wasn’t intimidated. She’d taken out those two creatures that killed Tom, and that was before she was bitten. Besides that, this man smelled fresh and a little bit sweet, like cucumber-melon. Not scary at all.
As she approached, she realized that if there were any special instructions on how to get inside, she’d missed the memo. There was no way in hell she was standing outside in the cold.
Those waiting in line seemed to hold their breath as she reached the velvet rope, craning their necks to see if she would get in. The last time she’d set foot in a club, not getting in hadn’t even crossed her mind. Every bouncer at all the hottest clubs knew her, and a lot of them had probably become more familiar with her than she’d ever admit to or even be able to remember now.
Sidney didn’t get a word out before the man unhooked the rope and stepped aside.
“Right this way, Ms. Lake.” He hadn’t even checked his clipboard.
The patrons at the front of the line groaned and a few people cursed. Most of the girls started chattering behind well-manicured nails, wondering who she was. A few people used their cell phones to snap a quick photo.
“Just like old times,” she muttered to herself.
Sidney stepped inside and immediately drowned. The lights, the music, the mix of so many different smells combined into a dizzying assault against her senses, instantly transporting her back in time to her brief stint as a party princess. Almost an entire year after her eighteenth birthday was lost to a hazy blur of pills and enough hard liquor to fill a pool. Merely setting foot inside the place brought back the crushing ache of loneliness she’d tried to fill with friends who weren’t friends, and fans who worshipped her just because of the size of her grandfather’s bank account.
The Narthex had been turned into the bar area, with the Sanctuary beyond cleared out and used as the main dance floor. The DJ was set up on what had once been the altar, spinning out house music that momentarily cut the bass and sounded like he was taking the listener on a flight through space.
Sidney stood there, barely inside the door, wondering if it was too late to turn and make a run for it.
“Follow me.” The booming voice of the bouncer sounded in her ear and she jumped a little.
He cut a swath through the crowd like an air-craft carrier parting the ocean. All she had to do was stay close behind and there was no problem moving through the Narthex towards a blank door at the end of the bar.
The bouncer held the door for her and she blinked as she stepped into a sterile white hallway. The bright fluorescent lighting temporarily blinded her after the darkness of the club. The door clicked shut, canceling out the noise beyond. She could barely hear the boom, boom, boom as the beat kicked back in to full swing.
“Some nights are busier than others.” The bouncer grinned down at her. His teeth were as bright and straight as the hallway they’d just entered. “My name is Dag, by the way.”
Sidney automatically took his hand when he held it out to her. His fingers reached halfway to her elbow.
“Hi.” She stared up at him, h
er mouth wide open. There was no other way to describe it. The guy was huge.
Dag laughed at her reaction. “Come on. I’ll take you to Mr. Dimitrius.”
They passed a few doors on the way down the hall as plain as the one they’d come through. A waitress exited one and Sidney got a peek at a room swathed in red velvet everything with accents of gold everywhere else. Someone must have hired the same over exuberant decorators as Louis the XIV.
The other doors were marked as restrooms. Sidney didn’t get to see inside, but if the previous room was any indication, she guessed the toilets were actual thrones.
Dag reached the end of the hallway and pressed his thumb to a small scanner next to a set of elevator doors. They opened and she followed him in. There was barely enough room for them both, since he took up most of the space and actually had to duck his head a little to fit inside.
It was a short ride, only one level from what Sidney could tell, and they exited out into a small, richly decorated office with a desk and another bouncer. He was a third of the size of her escort, but his muscles told her he could hold his own if needed. Sidney watched herself on a bank of computer monitors by his elbow.
“16 Across: ‘The O’Hara Homestead’ four letters.” The New York Times lay open on the desk to the crossword puzzle and the bouncer hunched forward, dark hair falling in his eyes. He smelled like fresh ink and paper.
“Tara,” Dag said without blinking. “Hey, Dave. This is Ms. Lake.”
Dave jumped to his feet. He glanced up at Dag and then stared at Sidney.
“Nice to meet you,” Dave said. He picked up the phone on the desk and punched a number. “She’s here.”
Dave hung up and pressed a button on the desk. The lock on the door in front of them clicked open. “Go ahead.”
“He’s been waiting for you,” Dag said.
Maybe it was the secured elevator. Maybe it was the two muscled bouncers. Maybe it was that unforgettable smell of moss and steel that suddenly swept into the room. Whatever it was, Sidney felt a lick of panic and seriously doubted whether this was such a good idea.
“Don’t worry,” Dag laughed. “He doesn’t really bite.”
Fight or flight. Neither was possible at this point. The only thing she could do was move forward, push that door open, and face Dimitrius.
The man sat behind a huge oak desk to the right, framed from behind by a circular stained glass window. The colors were muted now, but she imagined how beautiful it must be when the sun was out.
A one-way mirror took up the wall to her left, overlooking the dance floor. The sound-proofing in the office was flawless. Not a single beat could be heard from down below, despite the fact she could feel the vibrations through her boots. The patrons danced in silence below, like a television switched to mute.
Sidney took a few steps into the room and froze when the lock on the door clicked behind her. All of her courage fled, leaving her alone under the dark-eyed gaze of this ancient warrior.
“I’m glad you came.” Dimitrius stood behind a desk that could have been a twin to the one in his other office. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I’m not here because you asked. The chief insisted I apologize in person. Sorry I beat up your guys. It was a misunderstanding.” Sidney wished her words had come out stronger. The smoky flavor of campfire, mixed with leather and horses tickled her nose. She motioned to the door. “I’m sure you’re busy, so unlock the door and I’ll be out of your way.”
He stepped around the desk and came toward her, but stopped when she tensed. “You’re frightened of me.”
She didn’t want to lie, but she wouldn’t dare admit the truth.
“I have no intention of hurting you,” he said.
“I had no intention of breaking your nose.”
His eyes were still a little purple underneath, and she was secretly glad.
“You didn’t apologize for that.”
“I’m not sorry I did it.” Sidney gnawed on the inside of her lip.
He smiled.
She was losing her patience. “Renny said you wanted to tell me something?”
“Please, sit down.” He motioned to a worn but very comfortable looking couch strewn with faded throw pillows and a knitted blanket.
“No, thanks.” Sidney turned to the window. The harder she tried to ignore that scent, the stronger it became. The last thing she wanted to do was get cozy with him on the couch when Mitch’s kiss hung fresh on her lips.
Dimitrius grabbed a decanter of amber liquid and two tumblers from a bookshelf. “Would you prefer some fresh air and a drink?”
Sidney nodded. She would have agreed to nearly anything as long as it meant getting out of that room. The door she’d entered through didn’t unlock. Instead, he headed in the opposite direction, up a narrow stone stairwell that spiraled deep into the thick wall.
He paused with his foot on the first step, turning to see if she was following.
The last thing she wanted to do was allow the dragon to lure her further into his cave. She could fight her way out, use her phone to call for help, or even break off the end of the wooden cross on the bookshelf to use as a steak. All of that required more effort than she was willing to give at the moment. He said he wanted to talk. The sooner she listened to what he had to say, the sooner she could be gone.
Sidney followed him up the stairs.
When they reached the top, she found herself on a wide stone platform with a giant bell hanging in the middle. The carved balustrade overlooked 6th Avenue. Sidney peeked over the edge onto the heads of the patrons below.
Dimitrius moved past the bell and sank into a large upholstered chair as worn as the couch downstairs. Mismatched chairs were scattered around a table barely big enough to hold the decanter and glasses. Sidney had a slatted wooden chair, a modern canvas folding chair, and a three legged stool to choose from.
She remained on her feet, watching Dimitrius pour equal amounts of the gold liquid into both tumblers. He offered one silently to Sidney.
It smelled of something sweet and powerful she didn’t recognize.
“Honey mead,” he said when she hesitated.
He settled back in his well-worn chair and she watched his neck work as he downed the contents of his glass in two swallows. She knew she wouldn’t be able to leave until he said what he wanted to say, or extracted whatever information he wanted from her, so she took her tumbler and did the same.
The liquid tasted sweet like honey with a hint of lavender. It built a warmth deep in her belly.
“I knew a girl once, a long time ago, who was headstrong like you.” Dimitrius set his glass on the table. “Beautiful and fierce.”
Maybe it was the sting of the liquor, maybe it was something in his voice, but her irritation dissipated. He suddenly seemed sad, lonely.
“What happened to her?”
Dimitrius poured himself another drink. “Grew old. Died.”
It occurred to Sidney that if this man was truly what he claimed to be, he must have outlived thousands of people he cared about. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose her parents that many times over. To love someone and watch them age, knowing they would fade away into nothingness. To do it over and over again.
“And you didn’t,” she said.
He rested his fingers on the rim of his glass, balancing it on the armrest. He turned his attention to the enormous bell. If Sidney hadn’t been watching so carefully, she would have missed the way he shook his head, ‘no’.
The raw pain in his eyes made her heart ache as if the burden were her own.
“Sulis?” she asked.
He raised his glass in a silent salute and drank.
“You loved her.”
“Deeply.”
Sidney shivered. “I suppose to you, love is a relative term.”
“Love is the truest form of magic. It cannot be explained or quantified. It just is.”
Sidney loved Mitch. She knew it that moment in a w
ay she never had before. She couldn’t imagine watching him grow old and die, then spending a thousand lifetimes without him. She wouldn’t wish that kind of heartache on anyone.
There was no way she could confirm that this man in front of her was what he claimed to be. But, as she stared into the unfathomable depth of his eyes and saw the ancient hurt he carried there, she understood it to be true. The longer she stared, the more she felt as if there was some kind of invisible tether gathering, weaving its way around them, urging them together.
Sidney shook the feeling off and placed her glass on the table for a refill.
Dimitrius stared at her for a second and then a slow smile spread across his face as he poured. “Argus asked if you were one of Hell’s Furies.”
“I told you, I’m sorry. I thought they were shifters.”
Dimitrius waved his hand in dismissal. “No matter. It was his ego that was wounded, nothing more. To be honest, I was quite impressed with you the other evening, and even more so when I heard the report of what happened at the morgue.”
The longer she was near this man, the more familiar he felt. It was as if they’d sat and talked a million times before in exactly this way. Sidney couldn’t guess what he was thinking so hard about, but he seemed to be working on something inside his head.
“We’ve all suffered wounds much more extreme. Argus took an axe to the chest once. Malcolm’s been punctured by so many arrows I’m surprised he hasn’t sprung a leak,” he said. “I was strung up in a tree in a village in Massachusetts. The Age of Reason was hardly all that reasonable. We’ve all been beaten, hacked, cleaved, drowned, shot . . . you name it. In all likelihood one or the other of us has survived it.”
“Are you immortal?”
“No. Just very hard to kill.”
“How do you know for sure? Have you ever—” Sidney couldn’t bring herself to say the rest of it.
“Ever tried to kill myself?” Dimitrius shook his head. “There were others. Thirteen of us to begin with. Now only four.”
“What happened to them?”
“Bullet holes, cuts, broken bones can all be healed with time. We cannot, however, seem to regenerate a head.”
