Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Man, Patrick is going to kill me," Wade groaned as he got out of the car. They'd ended up parking in the same public parking garage as the other day on the outskirts of Beacon Hill.

"Why?" Riordan said, getting out as well.

"Because he doesn't like it when any of us deal with Lucien alone. I know I have a good reason, but he's still going to be mad."

He didn't mention that Patrick had called him half a dozen times already that evening and Wade hadn't answered any of them, only sending a text to let Patrick know he was fine. It had only caused Patrick to send a bunch of voice texts that outnumbered the voicemails. Wade hadn't listened to any of them yet.

Riordan came around the car, looking far too handsome in his leather jacket. The suppleness of it made sense now that Wade knew it was secretly the other man's sealskin. He itched to touch it but managed to keep his hands to himself.

Riordan wrapped his arm around Wade's shoulders, drawing him close as they headed for the elevator. He wanted to burrow into the warmth but manfully refrained. "But you aren't alone."

Wade wrinkled his nose. "No offense, but Patrick is always gonna think anyone in his pack is alone without him there."

Patrick was overprotective that way, with an attitude of shoot first, ask questions later whenever Lucien was in the picture. Not that Wade blamed him. No one in Wade's pack liked Lucien. Given half a chance, Wade would eat the blood-sucking bastard.

But Lucien was a known threat; Wade knew what made the master vampire tick. Abhartach was a different problem all together, one Wade didn't have any insight on. Of all the creatures, monsters and legends that existed in the world, his least favorite was an Aztec god, but vampires came in a close second. And vampires weren't to be trusted, no matter what Spencer said.

"I won't leave your side, mo chroí ."

Wade ducked his head at the endearment, heart beating a little faster. Falling asleep in Riordan's arms yesterday, in his bed, had been something he'd never experienced before outside his pack. But true to his word, they'd only slept while Riordan's body purged the poison from the iron wound. The kisses had been nice, if Wade was honest. They'd been a lot gentler than the ones he'd experienced when imprisoned by Tezcatlipoca, and Riordan had never pushed for what Wade didn't want to give.

It made him want to offer up more, made heat pool in his middle he couldn't blame on fire.

They took the elevator down to the ground floor, and Wade reluctantly pulled away from Riordan. At his questioning glance, Wade shrugged. "Better to not give anything away."

Vampires weren't great at distinguishing scent—the whole not needing to breathe thing working against them there—but they were very skilled at reading body language. Wade didn't doubt for a second that Lucien would figure out there was something going on between himself and Riordan. The longer he could keep Lucien ignorant of that knowledge, though, the better.

Donal, Saoirse, Ella, and two of her pack members showed up a few minutes later, having needed to find parking on a different level from theirs. Wade recognized her pack members as the pair who'd been at her home when Riordan had first arrived the other morning. John Kelly was the older man with the thick Boston accent, while Antonne Wright wouldn't have been out of place in New York City with that Brooklyn accent of his. Wade knew Antonne hadn't been part of the god pack before his took over, but he wondered if the other man had been run out at some point.

"Are you sure Lucien will keep his word?" Ella asked.

Wade would have answered, except he got a whiff of eau de undead and scowled over her shoulder. "Einar."

The blond vampire that blurred to a stop on the sidewalk near the streetlight startled everyone and caused all three werecreatures to shift their fingers into claws. Einar curled his lip at their reaction, staring down his nose at Wade. Since the bitey asshole was tall, it was easy for him to do.

"Lucien half suspected you'd steer clear, even with the payment," Einar said.

Wade crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. "Why would he think I'd waste half a million dollars?"

"You know why, fledgling."

Bad, bitter memories of his time spent locked up in the tunnels of Tremaine's Manhattan Night Court while Tezcatlipoca ran his usual fight rings for the rich flashed through Wade's mind. But he knew better than to let his discomfort show and refused to flinch. "I hope he bet on it and lost. If you're our escort, then start escorting."

Ella shot him a warning look that wasn't as good as Sage's, so Wade opted to ignore it. Einar wouldn't try anything. Wade knew that for a fact because they couldn't entertain Lucien if they weren't in the damn Boston Night Court yet.

Einar curled his hand at them and flashed his jagged, piranha-like fangs in an unfriendly smile. "Follow me."

Einar took off down the street, not so fast that they couldn't keep up, but clearly speeding ahead just to mess with them. Wade sighed and trudged after the vampire, waving for the others to follow him. "Come on. The sooner we get to the absinthe bar, the sooner we get this meeting over with."

They probably looked like they were a group out to have a good time to anyone passing by. At least they blended in with others in the area that night. Riordan walked beside Wade as they hit Cambridge Street and turned left. The redbrick sidewalk stretched the entire length of that busy street, including past the Green Fairy a few blocks over, which was where Einar deigned to wait for them after rushing on ahead at some point.

Wade squinted at the front of the building, taking in the black paint with gold accents and the neon green halogen lights lining the door. It had no windows, typical of a vampire's establishment, and magic sunk into the wall made his skin prickle. He couldn't tell what sort of spells or wards had been placed around the building. He was glad he'd asked to borrow the artifact from Gwen. Saoirse wore it right now, and he had a feeling she'd drag her brothers close when she needed to use it.

Because it was always when with Lucien, not if .

The trio of siblings were close with each other and their clan. Riordan was a kind leader, put in a terrible situation that Wade was determined to get him out of. And that meant, right now, dealing with Lucien and Abhartach.

He squared his shoulders and followed Einar inside, wrinkling his nose at the coppery scent of stale blood and the tang of desire filling the air. The others gathered around him just past the door, and Wade took a moment to study the space how Patrick had taught him.

Know your exit points.

The only way in and out was through the door they'd come through. The bar had knocked out the two floors above to create a high ceiling but didn't offer any mezzanine or balcony. Just brick etched with wards that Wade would bet were meant for silence to ensure privacy. Hanging on the walls were numerous paintings depicting historical scenes Wade didn't recognize.

The long bar to his left had two shelves of absinthe bottles and some other alcohol lining the length of the bar. No mirror sat above the bottles, only more paintings. Neither did he see any beer on tap, which was just weird. There were two doors in the back that led to a single restroom and maybe an office of some kind, who knew, but if there was a rear door, Wade couldn't find it.

Find the nearest thing that can be a weapon that isn't you.

All the tables and chairs in the place weren't bolted down, but almost all of them were taken up by vampires. Hidden speakers pumped out what he thought might be classical Irish folk music, but he wasn't sure. Electronics meant there was wiring somewhere that could maybe spark a fire in a pinch. If anything, he knew absinthe burned, so smashing some bottles and setting the liquid on fire was another option.

Call me and I'll come.

Patrick always had, and Wade loved him for that, he did. But he wasn't going to call Patrick or the rest of his pack for this, not when the problem at hand was one he'd been sent to fix. Wade knew what he was now and what he was capable of. He could help himself these days, but it was always nice to know his pack would be there for him, no matter what.

Riordan took half a step forward as if he were going to put himself between Wade and all the vampires who'd turned to look at them. It was a thoughtful gesture, but Wade didn't need to be protected here, either from his memories or the vampire that lazily waved them forward.

"Come meet who you paid to see, fledgling," Lucien said from his sprawled spot on a wooden chair, Carmen perched on his lap in a pair of satin hot pants and a corset top that left little to the imagination. Her stilettos looked like they were sharp enough at the heel to take out an eye. Einar stood behind them both in bodyguard mode, arms crossed over his chest and as still as a statue.

Wade scowled, stalking between the tables of vampires who eyed his group like they were fast food dinner. The human servants keeping their masters company ignored them, while the handful of mundane humans who seemed far too stupid for their own good if they were hanging out at a vampire bar watched them pass curiously. "I can't believe you're in Boston. We all thought you'd fled the country."

"I don't flee."

Wade rolled his eyes, coming to a stop at the round table that sat four, but two of the chairs were empty. He did what Patrick would've done and took a seat without being invited to. Lucien stared at him with those creepy black eyes of his, the left one still marred by a burn scar that stretched over his cheek and forehead and down his neck. It wasn't as bad as Wade remembered it being at the end of the Battle of Samhain when Lucien had done his damnedest to retrieve Macaria.

His efforts had nearly truly killed him. Drinking Patrick's blood—freely offered, which was the only reason Wade hadn't crispifried the master vampire at the time—had been enough to stave off turning to ash. As one of the very few daywalkers in existence, made by the mother of all vampires, Lucien had always been powerful.

And a dick.

Wade put his elbows on the table and focused his attention on the other master vampire they'd come to visit as Riordan claimed the seat beside him. Abhartach was taller than Lucien, even sitting down, with long blond hair so light it appeared white in the dimly lit bar. The features of his face were sharp, almost hollowing out his cheeks, giving him a starved model look. What Wade found most interesting was the master vampire's ears—they were pointed like a fae's. Unlike Lucien's punk attire, Abhartach wore a three-piece business suit Wade was pretty sure was designer. It looked uncomfortable.

"I hear you come with a warning and an offer for my Night Court," Abhartach said in a voice so thick with an Irish accent it reminded Wade of the time he and his pack ended up in a pub on the west coast of Ireland one December. That place had the best fish and chips ever. The Green Fairy was clearly lacking in the food department. "I fear no one in Boston, and I have no need for bargains, especially those given by fae."

"Not even if you're next in line to be targeted? You had fae trying to bully one of your human servants yesterday," Wade said.

"The trespassers would have died for it if my human servant had been harmed."

"Your human servants ended up fine. You have Carmen and me to thank for that."

"I give thanks to no one. Certainly not to someone like you." Abhartach raised a hand, and seconds later, a vampire was at his side, depositing a cut-crystal stemmed glass onto the table. A flat slotted spoon was laid across the top and a sugar cube placed on it. The vampire very slowly poured water from a glass carafe over the sugar cube to dissolve it, turning the drink a cloudy color. It smelled strongly of black licorice to Wade's nose, and he was glad Jono never served the stuff at Tempest.

"Someone like me," Wade echoed. "I feel like that's supposed to be an insult, but honestly, I'm going to rank it a two out of ten."

Carmen laughed throatily, reaching for the martini glass sitting on the table in front of Lucien, who was missing a drink. "You're a little worse at this than Patrick ever was."

"Worse at what? Telling Abby Boy here the truth? That some possibly prayed-into-being wannabe god has the hots for his territory and is collecting people for bargaining chips like a pro poker player? Because that's what I'm saying."

The smile on Carmen's face disappeared and, with it, the glamour she was probably sporting, judging by the surprised little sounds the others around him let out. She always looked like the succubus she was to him, and as pretty as she looked, she was ugly underneath it all, in Wade's opinion.

"A prayed-into-being god?" Carmen asked, sliding off Lucien's lap. "You didn't mention that yesterday."

"You didn't ask."

Carmen shifted on her feet, and a hand settled on Wade's shoulder. He glanced up, finding Ella standing beside his chair, her attention on those seated at the table. "We're not here asking for an alliance. We're here to warn Abhartach that Niall is targeting all our communities in Boston with the intent to take over the city."

Abhartach leaned back in his seat, tapping one long, black-painted nail against the fluted glass. "I see he's keeping to his namesake."

"What do you mean?" Wade asked.

"Niall Noígíallach was a mortal king once who convinced the fae to grant him a long life in Underhill."

"Did you vote to let him in?" At Abhartach's sharp look, Wade pointed at his ears. "You were fae before you were turned, weren't you?"

Riordan grabbed his hand and shoved it down. "That's not a subject we should talk about."

"Why not? He has pointy ears. I didn't even know vampires could turn fae."

Abhartach moved, a blur to Wade's sight, but he still saw the motion. Wade flipped the table faster than Abhartach could reach them, spilling the drinks to the floor as he stood but forcing Abhartach to pull up short, even as the other vampires in the bar rallied to surround the table. The master vampire kept his feet planted where they were, not because of Wade's actions but because of Lucien's words.

"You'd lose," Lucien said casually.

Abhartach's lips peeled back from his fangs, revealing the jagged mess of them to Wade and the others. He towered over all of them except maybe Donal, smelling like blood and that musty undead stench all vampires seemed to carry in their skin. The master vampire's nostrils flared before he looked over his shoulder, clearly dismissing them in favor of Lucien. "You called him fledgling."

"He bites."

Abhartach flicked his gaze back to Wade, who smiled, revealing his own set of fangs for a split second. "Yeah, I bite. Wanna see how hard?"

Riordan pressed up against his back, one hand gripping Wade's T-shirt, as if he were prepared to haul Wade out of the line of fire. Ella stood to his left, her fingernails shifted into claws, while the rest of those with them now faced outward, squaring off with the vampires of the Boston Night Court.

"We're not here to fight," Ella said in a low voice. "We're here to warn you. Consider it a courtesy."

A vampire approached at a slow walk to right the table and kicked the shattered bits of glass aside. The table wobbled a bit, but since Wade wasn't going to be drinking, he didn't care.

Abhartach shot Ella a dismissive look. "You are dire. You have no authority to engage in courtesies or bargains. Where are your alphas?"

Lucien smirked, and Wade really wanted to punch it off his face. "Something tells me Niall has the illustrious pair."

"Don't even think about muscling in on their territory," Wade warned.

"It's not yours to fight over."

"I'd make it mine through an alliance if I have to. Want me to call Patrick? Because I will." Wade pulled out his cell phone and held it up, pressing the button to highlight the screen and show the additional text notifications that had come through since the last time he'd checked, all of them from Patrick. "He's kind of pissed I'm talking to you."

"Do you think I care what he thinks? I'm not bound by my mother's promise any longer. You would do well to watch yourself."

Wade smiled, heat crawling up his throat, flickers of fire tickling his tongue. "I can make the right side of your face match the left if you want. You are not taking anyone's territory."

Abhartach smacked his hand down in the center of the table, leaning between Lucien and Wade to break their staring contest. He tilted his head, his long, white-blond hair falling over his shoulders. "I know what you are."

Wade swallowed the fire in his mouth and breathed out a curl of smoke, refusing to acknowledge the faint twinge of old fear at the back of his mind from the close proximity of the master vampire. He tipped his head back and arched an eyebrow in the best condescending look he could manage. Patrick would be proud. Sage and Jono, probably not so much. "Yeah? Then you probably know I could shish kebab everyone in this bar, and none of your bought magic could stop me. I'm not going to because you haven't done anything yet to make me need to. Other than invite this asshole in for a drink."

Lucien looked like he was contemplating all the ways he could maybe rend Wade limb from limb, which was just laughable. Abhartach tapped his nails against the wood one at a time in a slow progression. "My Night Court has no quarrel with the Boston god pack nor the selkie clans. I won't make your problems ours."

"No alliance. Got it. But Niall is fae, and so were you once. The only difference now is you're a vampire and he's a maybe-wannabe-god. That's a problem for everyone, or do I need to remind you about the Battle of Samhain?"

Abhartach's lips curled up, revealing his sharp fangs. "I answered my mother's call and fought at the end of the world."

"Great. Then you know how annoying gods are. If you're targeted by one, do you really think you can survive it? Because I know I can, and I'll make sure those with me survive as well. But no alliance means none of us"—Wade gestured at Riordan and the others—"are going to come to your rescue."

Before Abhartach could respond, the door to the bar opened and a person stepped in. Wade couldn't see them, not with his back to the door, but he heard them. What's more, he sensed them—so much magic that didn't feel right.

"Casey?" Ella said, sounding far too hopeful.

"Get down!" Wade yelled.

Carmen flipped the table this time, creating a makeshift barrier between her, Lucien, and Abhartach from the threat that just walked into the bar. Saoirse grabbed Donal and Ella since she was closer, shouting out the phrase to activate the shield ward. Bright white magic flared up in a tight dome around the trio, providing a different kind of barrier that Wade shoved Riordan behind and where the other werecreatures joined them.

All of that happened in seconds, not even the length of a breath, but it was still long enough for Wade to get a glimpse of Casey standing in the doorway, expression one of fear and grief, bleeding magic through his skin that Wade could see even if no one else could.

And then whatever spell was wrapped around Casey exploded, the concussive force of pressurized magic ripping away from the god pack alpha's body and through the bar.