Burning Dawn (Angels of the Dark #3)(17)
Author: Gena Showalter

Zero out of three wasn’t acceptable.

“So…did anyone else notice the way our new barmaid stared at Merrick?” Xerxes asked, his tone sly.

Thane stiffened. The lead singer of Shame Spiral was a known heartbreaker. “Did she leave with him?”

“No,” Bjorn said. Voice just as sly as Xerxes’s, he added, “Why? Would you be upset if she had?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Thane remained silent.

Clearly trying not to smile, Xerxes said, “What’s next on the agenda?” taking mercy on him.

“The meeting with Zacharel.” Their leader had sent a mental-o-gram this morning. My cloud. Ten. Do not be late.

It was time for Thane to be punished for his most recent sins…or kicked out of the skies. A cold sweat broke out over his skin, and he fought to level his breathing. Can’t be kicked out.

“I must speak with Adrian before we go.” And tell the male to never again invite Shame Spiral back. Their music had lost its appeal.

He tasted something bitter on his tongue and frowned.

“Will you be speaking to Adrian about the human girl?” Bjorn chuckled for the first time in weeks. “I saw the way you looked at her earlier.”

Xerxes snickered. “Everyone saw.”

“Do we need to settle this the old-fashioned way, boys?” Thane asked, one brow arched as he shook a fist in the air.

“You mean break-dance fighting?” Bjorn asked.

He nodded. “Exactly.”

Both males laughed, easing his dark mood.

He moved into the private hallway guarded by three vampires he’d saved from human slayers centuries ago. Each nodded in acknowledgment as he stepped into an elevator built for large men with even larger wings.

The doors shut, and the box descended with a slight shake. A few seconds later, he was striding across the lowest level of the club, snaking a corner, entering the bar. All customers were gone. The lights were no longer dimmed but shining brightly, illuminating the gilded mirrors on every wall, the dark leather chairs scattered about, and the high-gloss tables.

Adrian the Frenzied, a berserker booted from his tribe for being too ferocious—as if there was truly such a thing—stood in the far corner, watching…. Thane followed the line of his fascinated gaze, and gritted his teeth. Watching the reflection of the new barmaid, who was in the process of wrapping a ruby choker around her neck and preening sweetly in a mirror. Multiple gold and silver bracelets clacked on her wrists, and diamonds winked from each of her fingers; she clearly liked the look of them.

Like a little girl playing dress-up for the first time.

Too adorable for words. An unfamiliar ache bloomed in his chest. Did Adrian feel something similar?

He scowled. Perhaps there was such a thing as too ferocious. Because just then, Thane would have ripped the male’s face off—with his bare hands.

Who had given her such expensive pieces? An admirer? Merrick?

He stalked in front of Adrian, blocking his view. “You will take Savy and Chanel to my suite to help the Harpy dress and find her way out,” Thane snapped. Be calm. He’s done nothing wrong. “But first tell me about the human’s jewels.”

In a heartbeat of time, Adrian’s expression changed from soft and amused to cold and hard. He found Thane’s way of life deplorable, had never made a secret of it, and didn’t like that the girl was on his radar.

Well, Thane didn’t want her on Adrian’s radar. The berserker possessed unnatural strength and had to be careful with everyone he encountered. From him, even immortals had trouble surviving something as simple as a pat on the back.

“The jewels,” Thane prompted. If he mentioned Merrick…

“Bellorie and Savy made a bet with the human,” Adrian said. “If she could get more than ten dollars from a trio of Fae, she would win their tips for the evening. In only an hour, she got far more.”

She’d won a bet against two fierce competitors? Pride joined the ache in his chest, baffling him.

Pride? Why pride?

“She’s wearing three months’ worth of tips,” he pointed out.

Adrian lifted his wide shoulders in a shrug. “Patrons were extremely generous tonight.”

Why? Were males already trying to win the human’s favors?

The ache intensified.

Adrian walked away.

“The girls are in the opposite direction,” Thane informed him.

“I know. I must speak with Xerxes first.”

“About?”

Adrian stopped, sighed. “He told me to inform him of any inappropriate advances made toward the human.”

Thane’s blood flashed ice-cold in less than a second. “Inappropriate advances were made?”

“In a sense. She was grabbed.”

His budding rage fed off the ache, both growing exponentially. “Where? How?”

Adrian told him of the three Fae regulars who’d clasped her arm and sniffed her, then pushed her away.

It was something the other barmaids endured every day. Something he had always overlooked and the girls had handled. Just then, he wanted to commit murder. “You will toss the trio over the edge of the cloud the next time they enter the bar.”

Surprise darkened Adrian’s navy eyes. “You risk war with their families.”

“I have more stakes.”

“I don’t think—”

“This isn’t a negotiation, Adrian. You have your orders.”

The berserker gave a stiff nod.

No other employee would have dared to speak out of turn—or to delay the completion of his orders—but Adrian had more liberties than most, and they both knew it.

After Thane and his boys had physically recovered from the worst horrors of their imprisonment, they’d returned to the demon dungeon and freed the other prisoners trapped inside. Adrian had been among them, captured soon after his family had cut him off.

Thane stalked around the corner and came up behind the human. Her gaze met his in the glass, and she gasped, spinning to face him. She was prettier than he remembered. Prettier than a few hours ago, even. How was that possible?

From her silky fall of dark hair, perfect for fisting, to her wide, gray eyes that held a mixture of awe and fear, to the Cupid’s-bow lips he would have given anything to have wrapped around his shaft, to the freckles dotting her skin.

How did she draw him in a way no one else ever had?

Differing shades of pink infused her cheeks, each one lovely, utterly captivating.

Would she look this way after climax?

He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Calm. Control.