Heart of the Warrior (4 page)

Sev followed Malek into Four Alarm and immediately saw Io in
the clutches of two vixens at the bar. The bulge in his jeans left nothing to
the imagination.

"Hey, Malek. Sev." Io’s lust-glazed eyes looked up
as he and Malek pushed through the crowd and compelled the people near Io to
vacate their bar stools.

Malek tapped his knuckles on the bar and caught the
bartender’s eye then glanced at Io.

"Busy I see," Malek said.

Io grinned, his fangs already halfway descended.

"Um, bro…" Malek pointed to his own canines and
gave Io a look that the other male instantly understood. He snapped his mouth
closed before anyone else could see his fancy dental work. They didn't exactly
announce to the general public they were vampires.

"How about you two save my spot while I go take care of
this." Io shifted the girls as he stood and adjusted his erection inside
his jeans.

"Sure," Malek said. "By the way, where’s
Ari?" He quickly ordered two Lags.

Io grinned as he pulled the girls away then dipped his head
toward the dance floor. "Ari’s getting his itch rubbed."

Sev turned his gaze in the direction Io was looking, and his
heart stopped. As in, dead. No beating. And the resulting ache felt like a bomb
blowing up behind his sternum, knocking the air out of him. Arion was
lip-fucking a blonde with tits the size of melons, and through the shifting
crowd, he caught sight of her hand giving his swollen crotch a slow, persistent
rub-down.

Ari was certainly enjoying himself.

Sev turned away and grabbed the Lag as soon as it was placed
in front of him and downed it in one gulp. He slammed the glass on the bar and
gestured toward the empty. "Another. And leave the bottle."

Coming here had been a mistake. A big one. He could see
getting shit-faced was in his very near future.

"Whoa, guy. Slow down. Micah and Trace aren’t even
here, yet." Malek turned and looked around the club.

Fuck. Micah. Six weeks ago, he had hated Micah for a whole
other reason than why he hated him now. Back then, Micah had used Arion for a
punching bag every chance he got, and Sev had wanted to kick Micah's ass for
messing with the object of his affection like that. Now, Micah was a fully and
happily mated male. And that made Sev feel about as thrilled as a dying fish.

He glanced in Ari's direction again, but a mass of bodies
prevented Sev from seeing him, which was probably for the best, being that Ari
was lost in that blonde he had been lip-locked to a minute ago. Still, being
unable to land eyes on Ari didn't stop Sev from being consumed by despair, and
he kicked back another drink.

"Ah, there they are." Malek looked toward the
entrance.

Sev turned and saw Micah walk in with a smile on his face,
his arm pulling Sam close as they looked at each other with what Sev could only
describe as complete love and devotion. He glanced back to the dance floor, and
the sea of bodies parted just enough that he saw Arion still kissing the
blonde. Sev swiveled his gaze back to Micah as Trace shouldered through the
door behind him. Sev would never have what Micah had, would he? A mate of his
own and the happiness that seemed to ooze out of every pore because of it.

Micah was a changed person from when Sev first met him. He'd
been a dick, a real sonofabitch who had done what he wanted when he wanted,
without a care for his own safety or the safety of others. When Sam happened
along, all that had changed. Micah was still a lethal fucker in the field, but
what made him so dangerous now seemed to be his undying love for Sam, whereas
before it had been a total disregard for his life.

Sam leaned up and whispered something in Micah’s ear and he
grinned and turned in to nuzzle her neck as she threw her head back, laughing.
Micah pulled away and laughed with her. From what Sev had overheard and
witnessed firsthand, Micah never used to smile. Now he smiled all the time.

That was what love and being mated did for you. Or at least
it was supposed to. Sev thought about his unrequited feelings for Arion then
kicked back another glass of Lag and poured himself another as Malek held his
hand out to greet the three newcomers.

"You two look good." Malek looked between Micah
and Sam.

They did look good, which made Sev hate Micah even more.
Lucky fucker finding true love and all that shit. And he worked the color black
like a fucking supermodel, too. Sam wore tight faux leather pants and a modest
top that showed just how a woman’s body was supposed to look. She had smaller
breasts and wore more clothes than any other woman there, but she was by far
the sexiest. And that was something for Sev to think, being that he wasn’t even
into women.

He looked up and noticed Micah scowling at him as if he was
reading his thoughts. And, hell, maybe he was. Even if Micah knew he was gay,
he still wouldn't like Sev thinking about his female like that. Mated male
dominion shit. You never coveted or admired a mated male's mate.

Trace reached past Sev and flagged down the bartender for a
glass. As the bartender handed him one, he picked up the bottle of Lag and paid
Sev a cursory glance. "You don’t mind, do you?" Without waiting for
an answer, Trace poured himself a triple and set the bottle back down.

"Apparently not." Sev regretted his decision to
come here. He should have gone home, because this scene was rubbing him fifty
ways wrong.

"What did you meatheads do tonight?" Trace said to
Malek, ignoring Sev's retort. Trace sipped his drink then handed the glass to
Micah, who took a healthy swig and handed it back.

Malek glanced at Sev then said, "Popped Sev’s cherry
and broke up a cobalt deal and bagged a couple of drecks."

"Nice. Did you bag the buyers, too?" Micah looked
at him, his arm tightening around Sam as if he was trying to prove a point
about who she belonged to and who had a right to look at and think about her.

"Nope." Sev downed another glass before pouring
more.

Malek reached for the bottle to pull it away, but Sev
snatched it from him and gave him a warning look. Tonight, Sev's mate was the
bottle, and nobody would take Mr. Lagavulin away from him, so help him God.

"Well, did you at least mark them?" Micah took the
glass from Trace again and drank.

"Of course I did, asshole. Do I look like an
idiot?" Sev squared Micah up. He really hated this guy. Mr. Perfect. Mr.
Happy. Mr. I've-Got-It-All-And-You-Have-Nothing.

"Do you really want me to answer that, newbie?"

Malek held his hands up between them. "Hey, Micah,
Severin’s been promoted to full status. You know that."

Micah chuffed. "Yeah? Well, his attitude is for shit. I
think he needs to get laid." The last he said softly, almost lethally
soft, and with an edge as if he was laying down a dare or a challenge or
something.

Sev's eyes narrowed, and he wondered what game Micah was
playing. "Like you’re one to talk about attitude." The alcohol was
making Sev bold. Or maybe just stupid. He would decide the answer to that in
the morning.

"Fuck off,
newbie.
" Micah handed the Lag
back to Trace, and Sev could feel waves of aggression coming off the male as if
he was ready to throw down. Micah was one of only a few males who could hold
his own against Severin, and they both knew it.

Trace chuckled low and deep, but otherwise didn’t get
involved, sipping his drink instead, watching the two of them with a secret
smile on his face.

The air bristled between Sev and Micah, and it looked like
fists were going to fly for sure until Sam pressed into Micah’s side and
stroked her fingers down the slope of his neck as if trying to calm him down.

"Sshh, baby," she said. "Don’t I feel good
against you? Huh? Look at me. Micah? Come on, look at me."

She must have been through this with him before, because he
did seem to cool off. Within seconds, he turned toward her then pulled her
close until she nuzzled the stretch of skin her fingers had just caressed. And
just like that, Micah was a kitten again, grinning and purring into her ear as
the two of them sank into their own secret universe. Severin was suddenly
forgotten in their world. A nobody.

Again, that was what a mate did for a male. His mate kept
him in check, cooled him off and heated him up when necessary.

Sev’s eyes lingered enviously on Sam and Micah then drifted
back to the dance floor. Ari was just breaking away from his blonde hussy and
turned directly toward him as if he had known he was being watched. Their eyes
suddenly met. Sev held his breath as Ari’s gaze locked to his, and the other
male flushed as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

But for a moment, with their eyes locked together,
everything was perfect. Then the reality slammed into him with a nauseating
punch to the gut. Yeah, he was a nobody all right, and not just to Micah.

Sev grabbed the bottle of Lag, his glass, and shoved his way
between Trace and Micah as he departed for a table in the back, hopefully where
no one would bug him so he could get good and drunk.

How could he even think he had a chance with Arion? He had
no chance. The brief interlude they had shared six weeks ago was an anomaly, a
joke, just a heterosexual male satisfying his homo curiosity. For Ari, the
incident had meant nothing. Sev had received that message loud and clear. Hell,
maybe their wild, sexy night hadn’t even happened and Sev had daydreamed the
whole thing. Whether real or not, Sev knew in his heart he was utterly lost to
a male he apparently couldn’t have.

"Hey."

Sev flinched back to the present and looked up to find Arion
standing next to him.

"Hey." He looked back down at his glass.

"I haven’t seen you here in a while."

Severin chuckled darkly at what came off sounding like a
cheesy line. "Oh, yeah? What? Is that some kind of pick-up line or
something?" Sev threw back more Lag and scowled up at Ari. "You use
that on a lot of guys? Or just girls?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Ari frowned at
him.

"Nothing. Forget it."

Sev really couldn't explain where his animosity toward Ari
came from. Must be one of those fun-filled mated male things he would have to
get used to. After all, violent mood swings were a side effect of the call to
mate. But honestly, he was really more angry at himself than Ari. Ari just got
the privilege of being his whipping post.

"I’m just saying I haven't seen you here in a while. I
didn't think you hung out here, anymore."

"So, I can't come here and have a drink?" Sev
poured more Lag in his glass.

"That's not what I said." Ari huffed. "What's
wrong with you?"

Other than I want you so badly I can hardly stand it?
"Nothing. What's wrong with you? Can't you tell I just want to drink in
peace?"

Ari stood there for what felt like a lifetime then said,
"I just wanted to…I just thought I’d say hi." Ari shifted his weight
and heavy emptiness hung between them, the air swelling with a lot of unspoken
words.

For just a heartbeat, Sev thought maybe – just maybe – Ari
wanted to say more than just hi. But he only stood there, silent, staring at
Sev with his trademark serious mask on. After several seconds passed, Sev
looked away.

"Fine. Hi. There. Now you can get back to your bimbo.
Or better yet, go join Io with his."

Sev didn’t have to look at Ari to feel the stunned hurt and
anger rolling off the guy.

"Fuck you, Sev." Ari turned and walked back to the
bar, grabbed his jacket, and marched to the exit.

Sev's heart went with him, all
Wait for me!

Yep, fuck you about summed it up as he watched Ari disappear
through the door.

The girl Ari had been dancing with appeared a minute later,
having just freshened up in the bathroom. She looked around, approached the
bar, and said something to Malek and the others. She must have been asking
where Ari was, and they must have explained he had just left, because the next
thing Sev knew, she flushed red and snatched her own coat and stormed out.

Huh. Whatever. She was probably pissed because Ari hadn’t
helped her with her coat and walked her out. Take a number, toots. Ari’s a real
gentleman like that. Sev raised his glass in mock salute and downed its
contents just as Io appeared with his two women. All three were disheveled and
Sev could smell the sex coming off them from across the room.

Jesus. He needed to get out of here.
Note to self, don’t
ever come to Four Alarm again when you know Ari will be here.
Grabbing the
bottle, he made his way toward the back exit and slipped out before anyone
could stop him.

Gina Carello pulled up in front of the Trump Hotel in
Chicago. If she was going to kill someone, she might as well do it in style,
right?

After parking, a bell boy greeted her at the curb and helped
unload her luggage from the back of the SUV. While he took her bags inside, she
pulled around into the parking garage, freshened her lipstick, and then made
her way up to the lobby. She was the picture of elegance.

Gina didn’t look like a killer, but that was the idea. With
smooth, shiny, black hair cut blunt above her shoulders, and with perfect skin
and a lithe body wrapped in a silk pantsuit and fur coat, she looked more like
a model – albeit a short one – than a woman with vengeance and death on her
mind. Indeed, several patrons in the lobby stopped and stared as she strode
past, her Coach clutch firmly gripped in her gloved hand and tucked under her
arm.

"Good evening. Welcome to the Trump International Hotel
and Tower. Your name?"

"Gina Carello."

The attendant looked up her reservation.

"You’ll be with us two weeks?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

Two weeks should be more than enough time for her to finish
the job she had come here to do. Maybe she would even do some sightseeing
afterward. It would be nice to visit Millennium Park and shop on the
Magnificent Mile, something every girl needed to do at least once. And she was
craving a taste of Chicago's famous deep dish pizza. Yes, as soon as she
finished her job, a little food, fun, and shopping was in order to celebrate.