Page 12 of Tainted Souls
A breath of relief escapes him, the tension in his face easing slightly. “Alright, I believe you. I won’t rat them out this time, but only because I know how much they mean to you. Just make sure something like this never happens again. If it does, I won’t hesitate to turn you in too.”
I only manage a nod, the gravity of his words sinking in.
“Can you leave me alone for a bit?” he huffs, his voice weary. “I need to process this.”
“Sure,” I say, taking a few steps back. “I’ll go talk to them.”
As I turn to walk away, Max’s words echo in my head.I won’t hesitate to turn you in too.
We have our differences, but I didn’t expect him to threaten me like that. He means well—I know he does. It’s just his way of laying down an ultimatum, a heavy-handed attempt to keep me in line. After all, Max is a lawyer down to the bone; bending the law for me would mean betraying himself.
I can’t fault him for that.
CHAPTER 2
PUNCHING INTHE CODEto the private door at the back of the building, I notice my fingers tremble—they rarely tremble. This is fear. Real, human fear. An emotion I’ve spent years trying to suppress, ignore, and forget. Fear reminds me of what I have lost, of who I have lost. Fear is a luxury I can’t afford in my line of work. So, why is fear presenting itself right now?
The door swings open with a metallic click, revealing the back room where the real action happens. Plush velvet booths line the walls, each one cradling its occupants and forming a semicircle around low tables laden with bottles and glasses. The scent of blood—fresh—smoke, and alcohol hits me immediately, mingling in a dizzying cloud.
Evan sits in our usual corner, lounging in the center of the largest couch. He has an arm draped around a woman whose glazed eyes and dopey smile tells me everything I need to know. The puncture wounds on her neck are fresh, tiny droplets of blood still beading on her skin.
Four other vampires and some of their human companions occupy the remaining seats, including Haden and a man who has to be Marcus from the way his head is snugly tucked under his arm, all in various states of inebriation and consciousness.
Marcus doesn’t look like Haden’s type at all.
Bold and flashy is usually his point of attraction, a sharp contrast to his own angelic features—take Jaxon, who reclines next to the couple with a cigarette between his fingers, geometric tattoos gracing his arm, and a muscle tee accentuating his physique. Marcus, on the other hand, carries a slender build much like Haden himself, with neatly trimmed hair combed to the side, a tint close to black. His plain button-down is wrinkled at the collar, as if he’s been fidgeting with it.
Marcus reminds me of a pigeon among falcons: seemingly out of place, yet somehow finding comfort in Haden’s protective embrace.
In between them and Evan lounges Beth, her dark hair flowing in soft waves and her petite frame belying the strength beneath within her lithe muscles.
Leaning against the wall stands Ivy, her blonde hair the shade of honey. A wry smile plays on her lips as she nurses a glass of plasmapolitan—cosmo with a dash of plasma.
Kyla’s absence is especially conspicuous now that I know what she’s been up to.
“Finally!” Evan calls out, raising a glass in my direction.
Without a word, I snatch the glass from his hand and down its contents in one burning gulp. I slam the empty glass on the table, heaving a sigh to get myself to calm down.
“Trouble in paradise?” Haden asks from across the table, his short, brown coils catching what little light filters through the smoky room. His full lips press together in a thoughtful line, staring off into space, as if preparing for an earful.
“Did Prince Charming stand you up?” Evan guesses, all too eager for me to tell him that he is right.
I ignore them both.
“Someone is dead,” I mutter, low enough that only the vampires can hear me. “A human. Drained completely. And another was nearly killed tonight.”
“Not one of us,” Evan says, more statement than question.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Kyla Rogues.”
“Kyla Rogues,” he repeats slowly, registering the words with such delay that they seem to echo through him twice before he accepts they were spoken at all. “Oh, yeah. Said she was going for some fresh air. Or was it meat? Did she get caught?”
Haden shakes his head with a click of the tongue. “Sloppy work.”
“She’s always careful,” Evan notes, his pupils unnaturally dilated, a telltale sign he’s been partaking in more than just cigarettes and alcohol.
“Not tonight, she wasn’t,” Haden remarks in an overly casual tone, making everyone burst into contagious laughter.
