Chapter Eleven

Deyro

Heat was one of the most popular restaurants in all of Los Angeles. It was where the A-list, where Hollywood royalty went to see and be seen. Agents, writers, directors, actors, athletes, singers – they all frequented Quint's restaurant.

Dimly lit and with fire features everywhere, the place was moody and atmospheric. And it was packed. In my relatively short time in LA under Warden Quint, I'd yet to be to his restaurant. But I knew that I needed to be dressed up to enter.

And so, I wore my best suit – a well tailored black, form fitting suit. But Alex stole the show. She wore a slinky red number with a plunging neckline. Her hair was up with a few loose tendrils falling down and framing her face. She was magnificent and when I'd showed up to her place to pick her up, she damn near took my breath away.

I was so used to seeing her one way – as a fighter, usually dressed down and covered in sweat, grime, and blood – that to see her dressed to the nines and looking amazingly beautiful, it was disorienting. I wasn't a man who was used to being flustered around women. I'd had my share of beautiful women pursue – and catch – me in my time. To use a human phrase, I'd been around the block a few times. And because of that, I'd never really felt shy or awkward around them.

But standing in the presence of Alex when she was looking as absolutely stunning as she was – it made me feel absolutely awkward. When I picked her up, I must have tripped over my tongue a dozen different times. I felt like a stupid, awkward kid.

And what made matters worse was that she noticed. Oh, she did her best to not draw attention to it or openly mock me. But I could see it in the way she suppressed her smile. Could see it in the flush of her cheeks and the glint in her eye. She knew I was struggling, but to her credit, she didn't call me out on it. She simply pretended that nothing was amiss and carried on.

“Quint is expecting us,” I said to the hostess.

She smiled and nodded as if she'd been expecting us. “Follow me, please.”

I let Alex walk ahead of me and we followed the young woman through the restaurant. I looked around and saw a number of faces I recognized from the movies, television, and various sports. I wasn't one who was star struck, but seeing so many famous people in one location was pretty cool.

As I looked around the restaurant, my eyes passed by Alex's ass. I admired the way her dress clung to her hips and accentuated her curves. Even though we'd been sleeping together, I realized in that moment that I'd never taken the time to really stop and admire her body. Though, that was probably because our encounters were usually so quick and frenetic – and then she was either rushing out the door or kicking me out of it, that I never had the chance, really.

But in that moment, I also realized what I'd been missing. She was a beautiful, beautiful woman. Her body was toned, athletic, and shapely.

“Stop staring at my ass.”

I looked up and Alex was looking back at me over her shoulder. I was completely busted. Although her tone sounded serious and annoyed, there was a playful smile upon her lips. I wasn't sure if she was actually upset or just teasing me. She gave me a wink, which told me that she was just playing – which eased my mind and I flashed her my best smile.

As much as I'd already learned, I still had so much yet to learn about human behavior.

“Here you go,” the hostess said.

She'd led us to a table near the back of the restaurant. It sat in front of the tall windows that made up the back wall, providing a view of the ocean. It was a crystal-clear night, so the moon reflected off of the Pacific, making the waves that crashed upon the shore seem to glow with a silvery effervescence. It was beautiful.

I pulled Alex's chair out for her – a gesture that she seemed a little taken aback by. She sat down stiffly and a little awkwardly.

“You okay?” I asked as I took the seat across the table from her.

“Yeah, I've just never had somebody pull my seat out for me,” she said.

I chuckled. “That's sad,” I said. “Being a gentleman seems to be a bit of a lost art.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “You're also almost two hundred years old,” she said. “You grew up in a time when things like manners and being a gentleman still counted for something. Times change.”

“Like I said, that's sad,” I replied.

She laughed and shook her head. A moment later, a waitress came to our table with a bottle of wine. She set three glasses down and then opened it and poured a small amount into my glass. Impressed with the selection, I nodded and she poured our glasses.

“Mr. Quint said that he's sorry he's running a little bit late,” the waitress said. “But he'll be here shortly. In the meantime, I'll bring some appetizers out for you.”

“Thank you,” I said as the waitress turned and scampered away.

“Mr. Quint,” Alex said. “That just sounds odd, doesn't it?”

I nodded. “It does.”

We sipped our wine and I wanted to talk to Alex, wanted to have an actual conversation with her. But as I looked at her over the rim of my glass, I realized I had no idea what to say. I wasn't really good with the small talk. If we weren't talking about a plan to kill something, talking about something we had killed, or talking about something we wanted to kill, I was fresh out of conversation pieces.

We looked at each other and laughed awkwardly, as if she were having the same thoughts and crisis of conversation that I was.

“I was just thinking to myself that I have no idea what to say,” Alex said. “We spend all of our time training or hunting that it seems that's the only thing we have going in our lives. And since we're around each other twenty-four-seven, what is there to talk about?”

I nodded and sipped my wine. “I was thinking the exact same thing,” I admitted. “I have no idea what to talk about.”

“How about favorite books? Favorite movies? Favorite piece of music,” Quint said as he took a seat at the table with us, a smile on his face. “You know, things that normal people enjoy?”

“In case you hadn't noticed,” Alex said, grinning, “we're not exactly normal people.”

“True,” Quint said as he picked up his glass of wine and took a sip. “But that doesn't mean you can't have other interests outside of the job. Things you enjoy. Things you're passionate about.”

He gestured around the restaurant as if to emphasize his point.

“Look at this,” he said. “This restaurant is a passion of mine and it's well outside of the job. It helps keep me centered. Grounded. Sane. I would really encourage you both to find something outside of the job that does that for you. If you don't, you'll burn out sooner rather than later. And nobody wants that.”

The waitress arrived with a plate loaded with some concoction made of shrimp. It smelled amazing and my stomach started growling, reminding me I hadn't eaten in a while. Although I wanted to load up my plate and dig in, I checked myself. Made myself wait.

The waitress refilled our wine glasses and smiled at Quint. He gave her a smile in return and I swear I saw cartoon hearts floating above her head. It was more than obvious that she was carrying a torch for her boss. But it was also obvious that Quint was head over heels for Astrid and that he would never pursue the young, attractive woman.

Quint raised his glass, so Alex and I followed suit.

“To the job,” he said. “To keeping people safe. And to two of the best I have.”

“To the job,” Alex and I both murmured as we touched glasses and took a drink of our wine.

Quint grabbed the plate of shrimp and handed it to me. “Please, eat,” he said. “My head chef has a very special menu planned out for us tonight. It's a secret though, not even I know what's coming. But he's a wizard back there, so we can trust it will blow our minds.”

We dished up some of the shrimp appetizer and he was right. It was amazing. Mind blowing. But as we ate the shrimp dish, Alex and I shared a look of concern. Quint was pulling out all the stops. It almost felt like he was buttering us up for something. Whatever King Shango had asked of him was big. Really big. And it made me a little nervous, honestly.

“So, Warden –” Alex started.

“Quint,” he said. “Around this place, just call me Quint.”

I could see that she was uncomfortable by the familiarity of using his name, rather than addressing him properly. She was a woman who followed the rules, that was for sure. But she simply nodded.

“Okay, Quint,” she said. “What is it that you brought us here for? What did King Shango want with you? With us?”

A shadow crossed his face like a cloud passing over the moon. But Quint, always in control of himself, locked it away and managed to keep his face completely neutral.

“After dinner,” he said. “Let's enjoy a fine meal and a bottle of wine or two and then we'll talk business.”

Way to kick that can down the road, boss. While the idea of a fine meal and wine was very appealing, the idea of getting to the root and purpose of this meeting was even more so. But I could tell that he was uncomfortable with what he was going to ask of us and in his mind, he was still formulating how he was going to do that. So, Alex wisely, didn't press him. Instead, we turned our attention to enjoying a fine meal.

The conversation was fun and lively. We talked about books, movies, politics, philosophy – regular, everyday things that normal people discussed. I was surprised to find how easily the conversation flowed from one topic to the next without the barest hitch.

I learned more about Alex in that hour and a half than I had in the few months I'd known her.

Eventually though, the meal – as amazingly mind-blowing as it actually was – ended. There was no more wine to consume, no more desserts to wait and pine away for. And the three of us were left staring at each other, knowing the time had come.

The waitress brought out some coffee and then left the table again quickly. I poured a little bit of milk into my coffee mug and took a sip. Quint took a drink of his own and then set the mug down with a sigh.

“I suppose I can't put it off any longer,” he said.

My stomach tightened as I waited for the other shoe I'd been waiting to drop seemed like it was finally about to.

“So, King Shango is impressed with what we've built,” he said. “He approves of the alliance with the Children. But he also said it would be a hard sell with the rest of the Council. At least, some of them, anyway. He's a man of tremendous influence, but even that has its limits.”

“Is he going to try to sell it?” Alex asked. “Is he going to try to get the rest of the Council on board?”

Quint sighed. “Kind of,” he said. “He's going to look the other way for now. What he saw here – he's going to forget he ever saw it. I mean, it could be another hundred years before one of the Council shows up here again. He's also going to try to very quietly build a coalition that will approve of what we're doing. And once he has the votes, he'll pass the reform to our Charter through.”

“And what does he want in return?” I asked.

Quint sighed again and wouldn't meet my eyes – which sent a small chill through me. Quint was not a man who had a hard time making eye contact. Nor was he the kind of man who had trouble articulating his thoughts.

“He wants two things,” he said. “The first is that he wants the two of you to take on a mission for him.”

“What's the mission?” Alex asked.

“He wants you to –” that same dark shadow passed over Quint's face again, but this time it lingered – he was nervous. “There's really no way to sugar-coat this, so I'm going to be blunt. He wants you both to travel to Chondelai – in secret – and assassinate somebody for him. Somebody who is threatening to rip Chondelai in half.”

My stomach fell into my shoes. Assassinate? He wanted us to be his assassins? I defended the helpless. That was my duty as a Ranger – I wasn't a contract killer. I looked over at Alex and saw the same expression of shock etched upon her face. A moment of tense silence descended over the table as we all stared into our wine glasses.

“And who is it we're supposed to assassinate?” she finally asked.

“He wants you to kill King Nepar of the River Clan.”

My mouth fell open and all I could do was stare at Quint in shock and disbelief. In exchange for not blowing the whistle on us, he wanted us to be his personal assassins. And he wanted us to kill not just any person, but a member of the Council of Kings.

“Son of a bitch,” I whispered.

Alex and I shared another look – this one of absolute horror.