Heartless (Crossbreed Series Book 9)

by Dannika Dark

  “What I wouldn’t do for a drop of your blood,” Lenore said quietly.

  That was Vampire speak for “penny for your thoughts.”

  Christian slowly rose from the table, his fingertips pressed against it. “If you don’t mind, I need a shower.”

  Lenore got up and circled the table faster than he could track. When he turned to leave, she captured his wrist. “I want us to be friends again.”

  “Friends? Is that what you thought of me? A fine thing you did for a friend.”

  “How many times will we have this discussion? If you know what’s good for you, you’ll move on. Grudges are for the weak.”

  “When you’ve spent a decade underground, you can tell me all about moving on.” He tried to break her grip, but it was iron.

  “You and I are both in key positions,” she said quietly. “It would serve Keystone to have me as an ally. I can help you in ways that other higher authority members can’t. And why? Because I trust you. I know you would never betray me by telling anyone my secrets, now would you?”

  Christian averted his eyes when her gaze intensified. She wanted to know if he’d told anyone about her, and the only two people he might have told were Viktor and Raven.

  “And what if I have?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “I know you’re smarter than that. Do you want to invite turmoil into your life? Do you want to be held accountable for all those senseless deaths?”

  His fangs punched out. “Are you threatening me?”

  “It’s a fact. If you seek to ruin me, you’ll only ruin yourself.” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “There’s no statute of limitations for high crimes against humans. Or Breed for that matter. As far as I’m concerned, you served your time in that coffin. I want to protect you. I taught you to lead with your mind and not with your heart. You cannot tell people about your past,” she said, putting pressure on his wrist. “You may think you love this woman now, but will it last a hundred years? Five hundred? Will you break her heart so badly that she’ll do anything to get back at you, even sink you in your own admissions? Never give anyone ammunition they can use against you, no matter how much you think you can trust them. Men who do that never last in our world.” Lenore drew so close that their bodies touched. “I mentored a smarter Vampire than that.”

  The sound of her pulse filled his ears, and his eyes fixed on the warm blood rushing through the veins just below her skin. It was intoxicating, and she knew it. Lenore stood there as if she were offering heroin to a former addict. His gums ached from the memory.

  Distracted by his traitorous thoughts, Christian didn’t hear Wyatt bustle in until it was too late.

  “My driver should be here any moment.” Lenore drew back slowly. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

  As she gracefully sauntered out of the room, Wyatt pulled off his loose beanie and stared at her ass. When the front door finally closed in the distance, he turned on his heel and smacked Christian with his hat. “Now that’s a twist I didn’t see coming. Old friend, huh? My old friends don’t glue themselves to me like that.”

  “It’s not what you think.” Christian put his hands in his pants pockets.

  “I’ve heard that before.” Wyatt’s eyes rounded when he looked at the breakfast dish. “Say, who made food without telling me?” He circled the table like a vulture and pulled the pan closer. Instead of cutting a piece of the banitsa, he used Lenore’s fork to eat straight from the pan. “So this is what he serves all the hoity-toity guests,” Wyatt said around a mouthful of food.

  Christian pushed in his chair. “Shouldn’t you be tracking Raven?”

  “Unless she’s a sleepwalker, I’m on a break. She’s not allowed to leave the hotel except to go to work. That way I’ll know if something’s up. It’s the only way I can get some shut-eye, unless you expect me to stare at a screen for sixteen hours straight. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a Vampire. Though I once stayed up for a record three days.”

  “Well, isn’t that astonishing?”

  “Almost went insane.” Wyatt licked his fork and stared at Christian. “You two looked… chummy.”

  “She’s an old acquaintance,” he replied flatly.

  “I’ll say.” Wyatt gave a sideways smile and took another big bite of pastry before setting the fork down. “Shepherd has a few leads I’m looking into. If any of them look promising, I’ll pass that along to Raven.”

  “What smells good?” Blue strutted into the room in her dark red gown with the bell sleeves. She’d hung the garment by the door the previous night. It was unusual to see her in it during daylight hours, but their schedules were now upside down. “I’m starving.”

  Wyatt pulled the pan of banitsa closer to him like a dog guarding its bowl. “Just the person I wanted to see. How did the phone work out?”

  “No problems. The breakaway design is better than looping something around my neck. You might want to put a rubber case around it.”

  Wyatt crossed his arms over the back of Raven’s chair. “Why’s that?”

  She rounded the table and yanked the pan toward her. After slicing off a piece, she scooped it up in her hand. “Whenever I shift, it falls on the ground and makes noise. I’m also afraid it’ll break.” Blue took a huge bite of the pastry, crumbs sprinkling onto the table. “You have no idea how hard it was to restrain my falcon from chasing down rats in the alley. All she wanted to do was hunt. Tonight I’m leaving on a full stomach.”

  Wyatt cut himself a large piece and held it like a prize against his ratty old T-shirt of a ghost that said: DEJA BOO. The two headed toward the hall. “I’ll find a case for your phone. Just be sure to keep it turned off. You don’t want it ringing while you’re in bird mode.”

  She patted his shoulder as she walked through the doorway ahead of him. “Thanks, amigo. I’m hitting the sack. This is the most boring assignment I’ve ever had.”

  “I’d rather be sitting on a building all night than in my chair,” Wyatt grumbled as he followed behind her. “I really need lumbar support.”

  Christian fell into step beside Wyatt and put his arm around him. “You won’t be telling Raven about our visitor, now will you?”

  “What do you take me for?”

  “A man who likes to stir the pot.”

  Wyatt put the pastry in his left hand and made a gesture over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

  “And hope to die?”

  “Just don’t stick any needles in my eye.”

  Christian put their heads together as they walked, his voice thick with malice. “Do you? Do you hope to die?”

  Chapter 9

  A week had zipped by. A week of slinging beer and watching people achieve sexual fulfillment. While I didn’t require as much sleep as the average person, I slept for as many hours as I could. The job was tiring, and I needed to stay alert.

  Christian left me coffee in a thermos every morning. Even though he wasn’t supposed to be there, and even though I never saw him do it, he did it without fail. Usually it was cold by the time I woke up, so I poured it into a cup and tossed it in the microwave. At least this place wasn’t a dump. The vending machines in the hall had oodles of good snacks, cheaper than the ones in Wyatt’s overpriced machine. They also served a continental breakfast downstairs early each morning. Unable to leave the hotel in the daytime, I usually ordered a pizza around midafternoon, showered, and watched TV. The monotonous routine made me feel human again.

  It also made me feel like the living dead.

  My internal alarm clock went off, so I got dressed and popped the contact lens into my right eye. The leather shorts had worked out great, but the corset was ridiculously constricting and hot. If it were up to me, I’d just cut an old T-shirt in half. But the White Owl didn’t want its workers looking like groupies at a rock concert, so I’d been wearing a leather bra with two spikes where my nipples were. Leather cuff bracelets were my only accessories; anything else would have been overkill. After pulling
my hair up, I grabbed a long duster, my purse, and my mask, and headed out the door.

  Breed cops patrolled this district. Insiders in every profession kept Breed business under wraps, so at least I didn’t have to worry about a cop pulling me over for dressing like a prostitute.

  Once I reached the club, I swung by my station and flagged Simone, who was holding a compact mirror and touching up her black lipstick. “I’m here—sorry I’m late. Give me two minutes.”

  I knew she heard me, but she didn’t look up.

  On my way to the employee locker room, I bumped into Flynn. He was always easy to spot in those orange-tinted glasses.

  “Did you forget your leather pants today?” I quipped.

  “The cleaning crew isn’t permitted to dress provocatively. I’m afraid black trousers are all we’re allowed.”

  We avoided two men engaged in sensory magic and headed down a short hall.

  “Your shirt is five sizes too small,” I remarked. “Is that for tips?”

  He opened the door for me. “Already told you, love, we don’t earn tips.”

  “I won’t tell.”

  Flynn plopped down on the black loveseat. “The boss doesn’t tolerate deceit. Careful who you talk to around here. There are a lot of snitches.”

  I leaned toward the mirror and applied my eyeliner. “So why not get a job working tables?”

  He crossed one leg over his knee. “I’ve applied, but those positions don’t open very often, and the one that just did was filled by a Chitah.”

  “What about bartending?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, they’re all women.” He gave me a forced smile.

  I crossed the room and opened my locker. “Why is that?”

  “Bartenders are women, servers are men. That’s the way the owner likes it.”

  After putting up my bag and coat, I sprayed a mist of perfume on myself. “How do you survive on wages alone?”

  His eyes traveled down to my long legs. “Everyone has a side hustle. You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

  I tied the mask behind my head and slammed the locker. “What makes you say that?”

  “I can always spot trouble with a capital T. Nobody gets in a fight on their first night here. People would kill for your position. And you should know that Simone’s not pleased with you.”

  “Why?”

  Flynn got up and approached me like a new sheriff who had just rode into town. “When she heard what you did last week, ordering customers around like a dominatrix, she tried it when you weren’t here.”

  “And?”

  He made a nosedive movement with his hand. “Crash and burn. With her, the regulars know it’s all an act. But you’re new, so they don’t know what to expect from you.” Flynn’s eyebrows touched his hairline as he admired my body again. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now. That section is Simone’s turf.”

  “It was a fluke.”

  “Rubbish. Do you know how many times I’ve heard someone asking for Mistress White? They won’t stop, as I’m sure you know.”

  Word had gotten around, and customers would linger by the bar in hopes that I’d dish out what I’d served that night. I pushed away from the lockers. “I’m not here to cause problems, but she has nothing to complain about. She takes half my tips for spiking the drinks. Maybe they should spike the bottles and make it a level tipping field.”

  “Can’t. It’s a liability for the boss. The higher authority would send Regulators in here faster than a jackrabbit, and nothing spooks people more than those redcoats.” He strode toward the door and gripped the knob. “Stay on her good side. It’s not easy to switch sections around here, so you’re stuck with each other. And nobody wants to be on Simone’s bad side. I’ve been there and back and bought a T-shirt.” He opened the door. “After you, milady.”

  People gyrated to the sexual beat of the music. The air-conditioning ran all day, so by the time the club was ready to open, the air was cool and clean. Somewhere past midnight, all that changed, and the heady smell of sweat, stale cologne, spilled booze, arousal, and Chitah markings permeated every corner of the building.

  As I approached the bar, I made contact with everyone I passed, putting their faces to memory and nodding at the regulars.

  “Busy night?” I asked Simone as I stepped behind the bar.

  “Busy is good,” she replied. After serving a customer, she collected a dirty glass and tossed the wet napkin into the trash.

  A plump man with beady little eyes approached the bar. “Are you Mistress White?”

  I rested my hands on the bar. “Yes.”

  He swallowed hard, the look of anticipation unmistakable. “I want a beer, and I want it now.”

  He didn’t really want a beer. He wanted to be a bad boy and get a scolding. I’d thought this would blow over after a day or two, but they just kept on coming. I stole a glance of Simone getting stiffed on a tip.

  Screw it.

  I gave him a sharp look. “Mistress White will give you a drink when she’s good and ready. Got it? Until then, I want you to ask Simone for the special. And if you tip her good, I’ll deal with you later.”

  To my surprise, he obediently sidled to the left and ordered from Simone. She gave me a quizzical stare before walking over.

  “And what exactly is our special?” she asked.

  I dipped out of the man’s sight. “Whatever you want to give him. He’ll tip you really good, and if he doesn’t, let me know. Can you only put emotions in the glass or sensory experiences? Like him getting paddled real hard?”

  A smile touched her lips. “I’ve got just the thing.”

  I peered around her and noticed the man walking off. “Hey! Did I say you could leave? Sit your ass down like a good boy and take what she gives you. Do you want me to come over there? Because I will.” That caught the attention of a few interested parties nearby.

  Simone arched an eyebrow. “You’re good at this. What did you do before you worked here?”

  “This is my first real job, but I’ve spent my life in bars. I’ve just never been around people who liked me telling them off.”

  She touched the shaved sides of her head. “It’s a different crowd here. Do you know Clyde?”

  “Who?”

  “The new server. That tall drink of Chitah over by the lounge.”

  I followed her gaze to Claude. I’d almost forgotten his alias, one they made similar to his name. That way if I messed up saying his name, people would think I just heard it wrong. “I just met him. Why?”

  “I saw you two chatting last night. It seemed a little… familiar.”

  I grinned coyly and bit my bottom lip. “He’s cute. I don’t normally go for Chitahs, but have you seen his ass in those shorts?”

  Simone reached inside her bra and lifted her breasts to make them appear larger. “Careful where you stake your flag. Flynn’s got his eye on Clyde.”

  “You two dated, right? I thought he was straight?”

  She reached on the shelf to my left and lifted a purple bottle. “Honey, Flynn dates anyone he thinks has money, and your golden boy over there is raking in the tips. I wouldn’t be surprised if Clyde has a sugar mama somewhere. Or a sugar daddy.”

  “I doubt it. Who would take a job waiting tables when they’ve got a sugar-whatever at home?”

  A grunt settled deep in her throat as she watched him strut across the room in his tight gold shorts. “We don’t get boys that pretty in here.”

  Maybe Viktor had chosen the wrong team member, but who was left? I sure as hell couldn’t imagine Shepherd lumbering around in a pair of gold shorts, and Niko would be out of the question. Christian wasn’t allowed in the club, which left Wyatt.

  Who just so happened to be walking up to the bar.

  My throat went dry.

  “I better take care of your naughty customer,” Simone said.

  “What can I get for you?” I asked loud enough that Simone could hear. Then I leaned in closer to
Wyatt and lowered my voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Wyatt’s grin rivaled that of a child walking through the gates of Disneyland.

  “I feel way overdressed.” He stripped off his T-shirt and tossed it in a heap on the bar. “Ah. That’s better. I’ll have a draft.”

  After filling his mug, I set it on a napkin in front of him.

  “Good head.” He sipped his drink slowly, which gave me time to serve a few customers who were impatiently waiting. One man in a tuxedo opened a tab, so I ran his info through the computer.

  “How much do you make a night?” Wyatt asked.

  “Not enough to pay for your overpriced donuts,” I muttered.

  He rapped his knuckles against the bar. “Do you believe in open relationships?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  He leaned in and lowered his voice. “A Vampire friend of mine is in a relationship. I thought it was exclusive, but I saw something earlier that has me second-guessing.”

  I polished a glass, my eyes downcast. “Explain?”

  “Let’s just say that I saw him getting real chummy with another woman. Maybe I got the wrong idea, but then he asked me not to tell his significant other. He made me promise, but I had my fingers crossed. See, here’s the deal. I don’t follow the guy code, whatever the hell that is. If you’re gonna do something behind someone’s back, better not do it in front of me. I don’t like to see people get screwed over.”

  I set down the glass. “Who was the other woman?”

  “Some hoity-toity rep.”

  I gritted my teeth and set down the glass. “You mean he was messing around with a higher authority member?”

  “They weren’t in bed or anything, but they were standing awfully close,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers.

  Lenore would have it no other way. She must have known that I wasn’t around and seized the opportunity. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the power to keep a woman of her standing away. She and Viktor were now acquaintances, and as much as it peeved me to imagine her slinking around the mansion in my absence and stalking Christian, I trusted him. Not to the point of foolishness, but he’d proven his loyalty to me. I didn’t like surprises, and I’d made it clear that if he had an inclination to cheat on me, I’d rather him tell me ahead of time than find out later.