Marlon’s eyebrow ticked upward.
Ryker scrambled away from her, nursing his abused hand, and scurried back through the velvet ropes. He wore a black scowl, and his jaw muscles were twitching from grinding his teeth.
“That bitch almost broke my finger,” he whined as he plopped himself back into his chair.
“What did she say to you?”
“Which time?” Ryker grumbled.
Marlon rolled his eyes. “The first time. When the tall guy was trying not to laugh. What did she say?”
Ryker grimaced. “I told her you were expecting her in VIP. She said, ‘only if he’s offering to pay the tab.’”
Marlon snorted. “And what did she say when she was breaking your finger?”
Ryker’s scowl faded a bit, and he met Marlon’s gaze with a serious look. “She said, ‘tell Marlon he has to come out of his web-funnel if he wants to speak with us.’ What the hell does that mean?”
“Trap-door spider,” Marlon replied absently. “Clever.” Whoever this woman was, she not only knew his name, she knew what he did for a living—trap unwary criminals into a life they could never escape. Clever, clever girl. But the question is, how does she know?
He turned his attention back toward the table with the newcomers, where the third man was just returning with drinks. The dynamic between the three was…interesting. Definite sexual tension. But who was fucking who? Unless the woman was a high-priced call-girl. If so, the tall guy must be rolling in it, because a girl like that didn’t come cheap. He watched the beefy security guy set a martini and two beers on the table, then yank a chair over so he could sit on the other side of the woman—probably to prevent anyone else from having an opportunity to grab her.
Even more interesting. The two guys seemed to be protecting the woman, and yet the tall guy had to be in charge. So why would the security thug move to bracket the lady instead of watching his boss’ back? Curiouser and curiouser.
“Go ask them to join me,” Marlon said. When Ryker turned to him with an outraged expression, Marlon met it with a look of cool command. “Tell all three of them they’ve been invited to join me. Then go tell Billy I need a table and four chairs brought up to VIP.”
“Boss, are you serious? That woman tried to—”
“That woman just defended herself against your grabby hands,” Marlon said with a snort. “Go. Now.”
Ryker muttered expletives, but he did as ordered, still nursing his bruised hand. Marlon watched his lackey approach the table—cautiously—and blurt out his invitation. This time, the tall guy and the woman both looked in his direction; the man with a blank expression, the woman with a raised eyebrow. They didn’t move as Ryker strode over to the bar, grabbed the bartender by the sleeve, and told him what Marlon wanted. Billy, the bar’s owner and bartender, nodded with a grumpy expression and barked orders toward several waiters.
Marlon sat back in the shadowed corner of his private booth, watching the swarm of activity as the waiters moved to obey orders. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. Marlon pulled it out and looked down at the text message.
All unknowns to be viewed with extreme caution.
He snorted. As if he wasn’t cautious enough already. But then the phone buzzed again.
Kill any female who asks to see me.
Now that was interesting. Marlon stared at the message, chewing his lower lip.
“Sir? The table is ready.”
Marlon waved a dismissive hand, not even bothering to look up. Footsteps receded across the plywood floorboards as he studied the message one last time, then shoved his phone back in his pocket. He pushed himself out of the booth, smoothed his sportscoat, and seated himself in one of the chairs the waiters had brought up. Now in full view of the trio, Marlon met the tall man’s eyes and raised an eyebrow.
The three exchanged looks, held a brief conversation, then rose from their seats. The woman led the way, which made Marlon raise the other eyebrow, and mounted the stairs like a dignitary approaching a foreign ruler. She seated herself directly across from Marlon, while the two men once again bracketed her—the big guy on her left, the tall guy on her right. As Marlon watched, expression blank, the tall guy extended his arm over the back of the woman’s chair, exposing a thick, black leather cuff on his left wrist.
Dominant? Huh. Perhaps they did come to this club for entertainment. Might be worth asking them to perform for me later.
“You’ve earned your audience with me,” Marlon said pleasantly. “Now tell me who the fuck you are.”
“Just a group of traveling business people,” the tall guy said in a deep, gruff sort of voice. His eyes were some kind of pale gray, disconcerting in the shadowed recesses of his chiseled features. “Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“What sort of business?”
Now the woman leaned forward, giving him a prime view down her cleavage. “That depends on who you ask. Some would say we deal in exotic merchandise.”
“We?”
“I’m Cam,” the tall guy said, drawing his attention. “Product acquisitions specialist. Only the finest.” He stroked the back of the woman’s neck, a slow, possessive caress.
Ah. Now he knew what they were talking about. “I see. And what about him?”
The big guy caste a menacing glare his way. He, at least, was not happy to be here. “Max. I’m in…product management. I keep the merchandise operating in a…profitable manner.”
Not used to speaking in code, that one. He must work behind the scenes most of the time. Marlon met the woman’s ice-blue eyes. “And you?”
Her lip quirked. “You can call me Cindy.” Fake name. Good to know. “My talents are vast and varied. At the moment, I’m lending my particular skill-set to Cam’s enterprise.”
“Such as?”
A coquettish tilt of her head. “Marketing. Product development. Ensuring our products meet the standards of high-dollar market buyers. And a little bit of everything in between.”
I’ll just bet. “Where?”
“Down south,” Cam rumbled. “Gulf Coast. But we’re looking to expand into national territory.”
Of course, you are. “So what do you want with me?”
“Well,” she said in a silky, seductive voice, “we heard you might hold the keys to a particular kingdom.”
“You heard.” He let his voice fall flat, colorless. Deadly cold.
The woman just smiled. “I have friends in high places, Marlon Davenport.”
Marlon sat back in his chair, fingering the phone in his pocket. “Well, I don’t know what you heard, but my influence is limited.”
“Not according to Jasper and Rylan.”
Marlon studied her. The tall guy—Cam—hadn’t said more than a few words. The big guy, even fewer. They deferred to the woman, treating her like an equal. Her obvious attempts at name-dropping were probably meant to put him on guard, or at least make him think twice about hurting her. Smart. Bold. Uncommon in a woman. But then, nothing about this trio matched his previous experience, either with petty criminals or settled crime lords. Why did the males defer to her? What did she hold over them?
No doubt about one thing: she was the one in charge. She was the one who wanted this meeting, not this Cam guy. Which meant she’d come to see him for a reason—and it had nothing to do with “exotic merchandise.”
Kill any female who asks to see me.
Time for a test.
“I do have the keys to a certain kingdom,” Marlon said slowly, making a point to eye her cleavage, “but I’m afraid that kingdom is closed to outsiders at the moment. If you know Rylan and Jasper, you probably know Vick doesn’t take kindly to unexpected visits.” Code. Those who knew Levi personally would recognize that name as a derivative of his real name.
The woman barked a laugh. “Vick? I swear that man changes his nickname every other day.” Her pale blue eyes glittered. “He should have chosen something more appropriate. Wrangler, perhaps. Or maybe Abercrombie.”
Clev
er. She just told him she knew Levi’s name without saying it out loud. “What’s your interest in…him?”
“We already told you,” Cam said flatly. “We have business to discuss.”
Marlon heaved a sigh. Might as well play along. “Plain talk. How many girls?”
“Over a hundred,” Cam said, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “All prime merchandise. High-end. Expensive. We don’t allow misbehavior.” Translation: no drugs. “Our girls are meant to entertain CEOs and trust fund babies, not the scum your local operation used to target.”
“Sounds like you’ve already got a healthy operation. So, you’re interested in…?”
“Network expansion,” the woman answered. “There’s a lot to be said for going national. And I’m sure…Vick…would jump at the chance to add such a lucrative enterprise to his network. Especially now that he’s lost one of his private hunting grounds.”
Used to target. Lost hunting grounds. The pieces all fit.
“You’re the ones who blew up Evil Eye.” It wasn’t a question.
The woman didn’t even flinch. “It was a blight on your good name. You should be thanking me. I did you a favor. Those girls belonged in holding pens, not fuck boxes. Now you can redistribute them to more appropriate locations.”
Marlon said nothing, but he noted the immediate tension between the two men. Ready for retaliation. He kept his own shoulders slack, his face impassive. “Some would say you destroyed a key piece of infrastructure.”
“A bridge to nowhere is hardly worth crying over.”
Marlon had to fight a grin. This woman had brains, he’d give her that. Clever word-play always got his mental motors churning. “How much?” He blurted the question before he could stop himself, meeting her eyes with a hard stare. “How much for one night with you?”
Oh, the seductive little look on her face. “You can’t afford me.”
Marlon scoffed. “But he can?” Meaning the tall guy, not the grunt.
Her lips twitched. “What they offer is priceless.”
They? Marlon hid his reaction by looking down at his watch. She was letting both these pretty boys ride her, was she? Interesting. Very, very interesting.
“Well, there’s still the fact that you destroyed one of Vick’s key assets, so I doubt—”
“He cared even less for that shithole than you did.” He looked up sharply, scowling at the interruption. All she did was lean forward more, plumping those gorgeous breasts. “Let’s talk business, Marlon. We know how far your boss’ network extends. We know how keen he is to add more territory. We can offer a fully-functional, pre-built operation that will immediately add value to his entire network. Now, tell me Vick wouldn’t be interested in that.”
Marlon said nothing. He slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered his phone.
Kill any female who asks to see me.
“I’m holding an event tomorrow night,” Marlon said casually, un-focusing his eyes so he could watch all three of them at the same time. “Warehouse district on the east side. Gray Street Boxing Company. You know it?”
“We can find it,” Cam said gruffly. The big guy just glared, jaw clenched.
Marlon nodded sharply, making a decision. “Doors open at 10:00PM. Dress to impress. Arrive in one vehicle. No weapons. Other than that, anything goes.”
“Pity,” the woman said with a silky laugh. “I guess that means we leave our favorite toys at home.”
Marlon allowed himself a chuckle. “Let’s get to know each other a little better first. Then we can talk about favorite toys and how to play with them.”
He rose abruptly, causing all three of them to do the same. The woman was a lot shorter than he’d thought, but the two guys were enormous. Marlon saw the beefy guy sizing him up, dismissing him as a threat, but that was okay. People misjudged him all the time. Maybe because he looked like a kindly office clerk, complete with receding hairline, belly paunch, and hanging jowls. No one, especially those who just met him, ever took him for a threat.
They changed their minds right before he killed them, though.
“I look forward to continuing our conversation at the party tomorrow night,” Marlon said, tone pleasant. “And I thank you for joining me this evening.”
“It was our pleasure,” Cam said, though his tone said it was anything but.
Marlon let that slide. “I’d invite you to stay and enjoy the local entertainment, but as you can see, that’s a bit lacking at the moment. Especially given what I’m sure you’re used to back home.”
“We know how to entertain ourselves quite well, thank you.” The woman winked at him, and then all three turned and headed for the stairs. No nods. No bows. No handshakes.
No respect.
Marlon squeezed himself back into his booth and watched the three leave the bar. Ryker, who’d been hovering in the background the entire time, reclaimed his chair on the far side of the booth table.
“What do you want to do, boss?”
Marlon watched Cindy’s spectacular ass until they all disappeared into the coat room. “Send a pack after them.”
Ryker jerked with surprise. “A pack? Are you serious? I thought you wanted them to come to the party tomorrow.”
“I do.”
“But…the pack will kill them.”
Marlon folded his hands over his belly. “And if it does, no loss to us. We have contacts on the Gulf Coast who can pick up their network—if it does exist—and add it to our own without much effort. But if they survive?” He raised an eyebrow at his cohort. “Now that, my friend, would be an accomplishment worthy of an audience with the Big Man himself, don’t you agree?”
Ryker shrugged, making Marlon scoff in disgust. Useless fool. He couldn’t see the big picture. But Marlon could. Oh, yes, Marlon definitely could.
Kill any female who asks to see me.
If his instincts were correct, then this woman was far, far more than she seemed.
And if he played his cards right, he might get her to do his dirty work for him.
Chapter 18
“How many darklings do you think were in that bar?” Sam asked the others as he settled himself in the driver’s seat of the Rav-4. “I counted three.”
“Four,” Dex said, sliding into the backseat. “I saw four. This whole fucking town is overrun.”
Sydney snapped her seatbelt into place and adjusted the shoulder-strap over her chest. “This town has been exposed to Levi’s influence so often, it’s become a darkling haven. And there were twelve, not four.”
Sam blinked at her, then met Dex’s eyes in the rear-view with a slightly tilted eyebrow. How the hell does she know that?
Dex replied with a brief head-shake. Fuck if I know.
Sam sighed, revved the engine, and pulled out of the parking space. As they merged with traffic on the four-lane road, he watched Sydney out of the corner of his eye. She seemed…distant, somehow. She sat huddled in the passenger seat, her arms wrapped around her torso, head cocked and resting against the support between the front and rear doors. Her eyes seemed to be unfocused, expression blank.
“You all right, Syd?” he asked after a moment, concern making his voice gruff.
She smiled but didn’t look at him. “Just tired. Being around so many of them is…draining.”
“Well, at least we got Marlon to give us that invitation,” Dex said. “First part of the plan seems to be going well. Now we just have to get ready for…what comes next.”
Sam hid a smile at that. Apparently, Dex was still worked up over the idea of “performing” in public. Fortunately for him, Sam and Sydney had already worked out a plan for how they were going to handle that part.
Unfortunately for Dex, they’d decided not to tell him. More tension that way. And Dex’s tension was so very, very delicious…
Sam shook himself, glancing in the rear-view as he made a right turn—and saw a car turn sharply to follow their path, almost running the red light.
“We’ve got a tail,�
�� Sam told the others, tensing in his seat.
“Yes.” Sydney sighed. “Since we left the bar.”
“We can’t go back to the motel then,” Dex said, twisting in his seat to look out the back window. “We can’t lead them back there.”
“No.” Sydney cocked her head at a sharper angle, and for the first time, Sam realized she’d been watching the traffic behind them in the side mirror this whole time. “Head in the direction of the motel where we left the Galaxy. They’ll be expecting us to be holing up somewhere near there.”
“We can’t lead them back there, either,” Dex growled. “Too many civilians.”
“Agreed,” Sydney said flatly. “Just head toward that side of town. Find us a building, a warehouse, preferably abandoned. We need to draw them somewhere we can fight without drawing too much attention.”
Sam nodded grimly, taking a firm grip on the steering wheel, and turned left at the next light. This street was empty of other cars, just a bare stretch of pavement broken by occasional street lights. The car followed them.
“Think it was Marlon?” Sam asked, casting Sydney a sideways look.
“Why would this Marlon guy invite us to his party, then send assassins after us?” Dex demanded. “Do you think he saw through our cover?”
“Testing us, no doubt,” Sydney said with a grimace. “He wants to see if we really know what we’re getting into by asking to become part of Levi’s network. People approach him all the time, wanting a piece of his criminal empire. Those who don’t know about darklings end up getting killed.”
An engine’s feral roar punctuated her words. The Rav-4 jerked as something slammed into the back bumper, making all three of them gasp. Sydney grabbed the oh-shit bar, her face screwed up in a grimace as Sam fought the wheel. Just as he got the SUV steady, the darkling car rammed them again, filling the air with the sound of breaking glass and crunching metal.
The Darkling Hunters: Fox Company Alpha (Fox Company Series Book 1) Page 22
