The Novel Free

Red-Headed Stepchild





Ivan reappeared with my drink. I tipped him a twenty, with a pointed look at Ewan.



“Great, now I can afford that mansion in Bel Air,” Ivan said, pocketing the money. I ignored him and gulped down some blood, followed by the shot.



Ewan watched me as he sipped on his own pint. “Have you talked to David tonight?”



Here’s the thing about Ewan: His expertly mussed hair and designer clothes gave the impression he was just another party boy. However, nothing happened in the L.A. vamp scene without his knowledge. Information was his currency. Plus, Ewan also had an uncanny ability to read people.



I shrugged and looked at my glass. “Nope.”



“Interesting.” He took another drink, watching me over the rim. “He called here earlier and said he was on his way to meet up with you.”



Shit. Forcing a casual shrug, I said, “Never showed.”



“Maybe he’ll stop by here then.” I could tell from his voice he didn’t expect that any more than I did. “Though he hasn’t quite been himself lately.”



“Oh?” Glancing up, I noticed that the mage at the other end of the bar seemed to be watching us. If he hadn’t been so far away, I would have thought from the tilt of his head he was eavesdropping. When he saw me catch him, he looked away quickly.



Ewan leaned in. “Word on the street is he’s got himself mixed up in a power struggle between the Dominae and Clovis Trakiya.”



“Power struggle?” I asked, playing dumb. “From what I’ve heard Clovis Trakiya is nothing but a nuisance for the Dominae.”



Ewan shook his head. “He’s bad news. Mixed-blood.”



My head jerked up. “Really?” Interesting, I thought. My grandmother failed to mention the mixed-blood tidbit when she gave me the rundown on Clovis earlier. She’d just said he was a fringe nut job up north who was trying to recruit vamps.



“Yeah. Rumor is he’s half demon, if you can believe it. Anyway, he’s building some kind of army in San Francisco. But get this, he claims it’s a religious sect.”



“A cult, you mean.”



He nodded. “Apparently, Clovis is preaching unity among the races or some shit. He’s recruiting young vamps, fae, and even some mages.”



“He’d have to be insane to think he can overthrow the Dominae,” I said.



“Maybe. All I know is his numbers are growing. And I have it on good authority our friend David might be considering defecting to Clovis’s camp.”



Here’s where things were going to get tricky. Obviously, I couldn’t confirm Ewan’s hunch, but denying it too passionately might also make him suspicious.



“Come on,” I said. “David wouldn’t be that dumb.”



Ewan raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t he? You know damned well he’s had problems with the Dominae’s policies in the past. Remember when they decided not to ban feeding from humans? He threw a fit. If I have to hear him preach the gospel of synthetic blood one more time—” Ewan shook his head. “Anyway, I’m just telling you what the rumors are. You might want to talk to him before he does something stupid. Like get himself killed.”



I took a long drink to hide my reaction that that little gem. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was goading me into admitting my crime. But there was no way even Ewan would have heard so soon.



“I’m just sayin’, Sabina. Because you know if your grandmother catches wind of the slightest hint he might be in bed with Clovis, she’ll have David killed.”



I raised the glass in one sweaty palm and gestured to Ivan for another. “I’ll handle it,” I snapped. The irony of this statement wasn’t lost on me. But at the moment, I just wanted another fucking drink.



Ewan’s eyes took on an assessing slant. “You know, there’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”



“Oh?” I said, praying he was going to change the subject.



“Have you and David ever …” Ewan made an obscene gesture with his hands.



“What? No! David’s been like a brother to me since we went through assassin school together.”



Ewan toyed with his glass. “But you two always argue. I just thought maybe it was more of a sexual tension thing.”



“Absolutely not. It’s more like a he’s-an-annoying-big-brother thing.” Or he was, I silently amended. I took the glass Ivan delivered and took a long gulp.



Ewan shrugged. “My mistake.”



Dirk appeared at Ewan’s side and whispered something I couldn’t hear. “There’s an issue that needs my attention up front. If you’ll excuse me?” Ewan said, standing.



I nodded. “Sure.” The interruption was a relief. All this talk of David made me feel itchy, like my skin was too tight.



“Don’t repeat anything I told you. I try hard to be the Switzerland of the vampire world, if you know what I mean.”



“No problem,” I said, forcing a smile.



As he walked away, I thought about what would happen once word got out I’d smoked David. Most likely Ewan would be pissed I hadn’t told him so he’d have been the first to know. Despite their casual friendship, Ewan wouldn’t mourn David’s passing. It would just be another bit of information he would stash away in his mental savings account, ready to withdraw should it prove valuable.



From the corner of my eye, I saw an auburn-haired male move toward me. The scowl on his face didn’t give me hope he just wanted to buy me a drink. His two buddies, both over six feet tall and almost as wide, had his back. I almost laughed, loving the fact that the guy felt he needed two friends to help him confront little old me. I subtly checked my rear waistband for the gun I always kept there.



“You’re Sabina Kane.” He filled out his leather pants nicely, and would have been hot if he hadn’t looked like he wanted to spit at me.



“In the flesh.” I took a slow sip from the pint.



He leaned in, crowding my space. “You killed my brother.”



I turned slowly and looked up at him. “And? I’ve killed a lot of people’s brothers.”



My lack of fear seemed to confuse him for a second. He looked at his friends. The one on the left nodded his head encouragingly. The other cracked the knuckles of his ham-hock hands.



“He was my only brother,” he continued.



“Okay,” I said, looking past him. My apathy seemed to agitate him further, which is exactly what I’d hoped it would do. This guy needed to be taught a lesson. If I let him get away with his bravado in public, it would make me appear weak to the other vamps. Word would spread, and next thing you know my reputation for being a heartless bitch would be ruined. What good is an assassin if no one fears them?



“Listen, bitch, you need to pay for what you did.”



I rolled my eyes. “Look, dude, I’ll save you some time here. What was your brother’s name?”



“Zeke Calebow.”



I snorted. “You mean the Zeke Calebow who threatened to expose our existence to the mortal media if the Dominae didn’t give him a billion dollars?”



The guy nodded curtly.



“That asshole was too stupid to live.”



Zeke’s brother hauled back a meaty fist. Dirk, who’d been approaching our little party from behind, grabbed the guy. His fist made a loud crunching sound as Dirk crushed it. The two friends moved in to help, but stopped at the telltale sound of a pump-action shotgun.



“Don’t even think about it,” Ivan said calmly. He stood behind the bar with the weapon pointed at their heads. Even if Ivan didn’t have cider shells in the gun, a shotgun blast could blow their heads clean off, making them very dead.



“Didn’t your mama ever teach you it’s rude to hit a lady?” Dirk asked Zeke’s brother, whom he had in a headlock.



“Fuck off,” the guy said, struggling.



I leaned against the bar, sipping on my drink, happy to let the staff handle the situation for the moment. If it’d been me, three dead vamps would already be on the floor.



“Apologize,” Dirk said. He winked at me, and I toasted him with my drink.



The friends and Ivan were holding a stare-off. The rest of the bar had stopped to watch. No one rose to help, nor did they look especially excited. Vampire life tended to make one a bit numb to confrontation.



“Apologize,” Dirk said again, tightening his hold.



“The bitch is gonna die.”



I laughed out loud. After tossing a Ben Franklin on the bar, I approached him. He struggled against Dirk’s hold while his eyes shot white heat in my direction.



“That’s okay. I was leaving anyway.” I lifted his chin with my index finger. Leaning close, I whispered, “Your brother screamed like a girl when I staked him.”



As I swaggered away, the guy growled. Ewan rushed in, looking worried as he took in the scene. He moved toward me, holding up a hand. “Sabina, watch out!”



I turned just in time to see Dirk hit the floor and Zeke’s brother come after me. He growled like an animal, showing a flash of fangs. I grabbed my gun and spun into a crouch, pulling the trigger as I rounded. He ignited midair—a brief, intense burst of heat—and then his ashes rained to the floor.



I turned and pointed the gun at his friends. Their mouths gaped stupidly as they eyed the pile of cinders and ashes on the varnished concrete floor. “Do we still have a problem?” I asked. They shook their heads frantically and backed away with palms held up in surrender.



Ewan stood over the mass of ash on the floor. He shook his head. “Someone’s going to have to clean this up, you know.”



“Put it on my tab.”



Over Ewan’s shoulder, I noticed the mage watching the scene without expression. This surprised me. I figured at the first sign of vamp violence he would have blinked his way out of there. Instead, he looked almost bored as he sipped on his beer.



“Hey, Ivan.” I leaned on the bar to talk.



“Yeah?” he asked, sounding distracted as he watched the vamp’s two friends get escorted from the bar.
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