Читать книгу Chasing Midnight - Susan Krinard - Страница 9

LULU’S WAS JUMPING tonight, and the hottest table in the joint belonged to Allie Chase.

She relaxed in her chair, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips, and watched Pepper Adair dance the Charleston on the tabletop, red hair bouncing to the jazz band’s hectic rhythm. Bruce and Nathan were clapping in time, shouting encouragement as the tempo increased, while Nikolai stared into his drink with a feigned air of gloom and pretended he wasn’t having a good time. Sibella scribbled furiously in her sketchbook, deftly working to capture Jimmy McCrae in action as he balanced an empty glass on his nose.

“It is all so meaningless,” Nikolai said in his heavy Russian accent. “Must we always fiddle while Rome burns?”

Allie laughed. “Is there a fire somewhere I haven’t heard about, Kolya?”

He gazed at her from dark, soulful eyes. “There is the one in my heart, which only you can extinguish.”

“Oh, knock off the mushy talk, comrade,” Jimmy said, tossing his glass from hand to hand. “You know Allie ain’t interested.”

Allie smiled sweetly. “What would I do if I didn’t have you to tell me all about myself, Jimmy?”

“Good question.” He grinned and loosened his collar. “What I don’t get is why you haven’t fallen for me.”

“Because she has better taste than that,” Bruce said. “Such good taste, in fact, that I doubt any guy will meet with her approval in the foreseeable future.”

“Don’t listen to him, Allie,” Nathan said, his gentle face achingly sincere. “Sometimes he just likes to hear the sound of his own voice.”

Bruce snorted. “Allie would be the first to agree with me.”

The music had stopped. Pepper jumped down from the table and plopped into a chair, her face flushed and her eyes bright. “What are y’all talkin’ about?” she demanded. “Come on, tell!”

Allie signaled to the waiter to bring another round of drinks. “It’s nothing very interesting, really,” she said lightly. “Just a discussion of my love life.”

Pepper leaned forward, the neckline of her frock falling open to reveal a sliver of her fashionably flat bust line. “How excitin’! Who is he, darlin’?”

“Nobody, Pep,” Jimmy said. “Just the usual string of one-night stands.”

“That’s right,” Allie said. “I believe in keeping things uncomplicated.” She accepted a whiskey from the waiter and took a long drink. “I’m not the kind to settle down like Bruce and Nathan.”

“Who says I’ve settled down?” Bruce said.

“Don’t you be mean to Nathan, darlin’, or you’ll regret it. Won’t he, Allie?”

Allie gave Bruce a long look, and he acquired a sudden interest in his drink. Kolya heaved a great sigh. Sibella chewed on her pencil, oblivious. The jazz band struck up another number.

Pepper seized Jimmy’s hand and hauled him onto the dance floor. After a moment, Bruce and Nathan wandered off together, while Kolya began to feel the effects of his drinking and sprawled across the table. Allie smiled fondly and ruffled his dark hair.

“Look after him for me, Sibella,” she said. “I’ve got some business to attend to.”

Sibella mumbled agreement, and Allie strolled away from the table. She felt the eyes on her…covetous eyes, hungry eyes, eyes that saw a length of leg in a rolled silk stocking, the sway of hips beneath a low-waisted black satin dress, and thought nothing of the woman to whom they belonged.

That suited her just fine. The men who watched her, who assumed she was a hot little number who would jump into bed with the first big six to pass her a line…they were her rightful prey. The boldest fish were the easiest of all to hook.

She allowed her gaze to wander from table to table, seeking the most likely mark. A young man in Oxford bags, his face as yet fresh and unblemished by years of dissipation, tried to catch her eye. She ignored him and passed on, pretending boredom as she examined the darkest tables in the back of the room. An otherwise appealing mobster grinned in her direction, but when he lit his cigarette she crossed him from her list.

At last she found the perfect donor: a good-looking man in his early thirties, his cynical expression hinting at experience, his body firm and fit. She sauntered toward him, dipping her finger in his gin and slowly licking it clean.

“Buy me a drink?” she asked, sliding into a chair beside him.

He looked her up and down. “What’ll you have, baby?”

She picked up his half-empty glass, drained it and gave him a heavy-lidded stare. “Whiskey and soda,” she drawled. “And make it fast.”

He ran his fingertip from her bare shoulder to her wrist. “Why’re you in such a hurry?”

“I don’t believe in wasting time when I find what I want.”

“I can see that.”

“Then let’s have that drink.”

He signaled to a waiter, his attention focused on Allie. When the waiter failed to appear at the table, he glanced reluctantly toward the bar.

“Promise me you won’t go anywhere, baby,” he said, an edge to his voice.

She stretched luxuriantly, letting him glimpse several inches of bare thigh. “Now, why would I do that?” she purred.

He wrapped his fingers behind her neck, pulled her against him and kissed her, hard. She gave him exactly what he wanted, melting into him with a little gasp of admiration.

“There’s more where that came from,” he said, rising from his chair. “You stay right where you are.”

He strutted off like a peacock, all broad shoulders and jutting chin. He thought he’d won the prize with his natural charm and good looks. Men like him always assumed that any girl, even the most sophisticated flapper, would fall for them if they so much as crooked their fingers.

Let him keep his illusions. He would awaken from their encounter believing he’d had the best sex of his life, which meant that she could come back for more and he would be happy to oblige.

Allie rolled her toes inside her pumps and let her thoughts wander to yesterday’s fruitless search. She and Lou had practically turned the apartment upside down looking for the papers Elisha—and obviously someone else, as well—believed Cato might have given her. They hadn’t found anything but dust and a pair of earrings Allie had thought she’d lost last winter.

In a way, their failure had relieved Allie. She hadn’t solved the mystery of why those notes were so valuable, but at least she could honestly say she didn’t know where they were if someone questioned her again. And that might buy her time to keep looking into the circumstances of Cato’s death.

The watch on Allie’s wrist ticked out the minutes, and lover boy still hadn’t returned. She glanced toward the table where she’d left Kolya and Sibella. Kolya had fallen asleep over his vodka; Sibella was still sketching the various speakeasy patrons, her tongue between her teeth. Beyond them, at the entrance to the club, the doorman had just admitted a single girl in a cheap, overlarge yellow dress and a long string of very expensive-looking pearls.

Allie tapped her fingers on the tabletop. During her two years of hunting in Manhattan’s various clubs, speakeasies and dives, she had learned how to read people with almost perfect accuracy. For someone in her position, such a skill was essential. She’d used it to pick friends, like Bruce and Nathan and Pepper, who weren’t apt to question her peculiarities, and she relied on it to help her select her donors.

Now she looked at the girl in the yellow dress, all wide eyes and red lipstick, and knew exactly what was about to happen.

Get out, Allie thought. Get out while you still can.

The girl took a few steps farther into the room, staring about her with an expression that practically begged the worst of the roués and lady-killers to go for the throat. Fresh meat…that was all she would be to them. Easy to get drunk, since she’d probably never tasted anything stronger than near-beer, if that. Easy to win over with compliments and pretty words of admiration. All a man had to do was appeal to her desire to be daring and rebellious, and soon she would be eating out of his hand.

And then…

Hissing between her teeth, Allie folded her arms and turned away. It wasn’t any of her business if inexperienced girls who thought they wanted a fast life came slumming where they didn’t belong. The pearls suggested that this one had come from a privileged background. She’d probably never known a single day of suffering in her entire life.

Pampered and spoiled, Allie thought. She’s nothing like I was.

But Allie’s rationalizations didn’t improve her unexpectedly dark mood. She swiveled to watch as the girl walked up to the bar with an air of forced bravado and ordered a drink. The bartender asked her a question; she tossed her head and laughed. With a shrug, he moved to fill her order.

A moment later the first of the tomcats arrived…a handsomeValentino with slicked-back hair and a smile too full of teeth. He sidled up to the girl and engaged her in conversation, not quite touching her, playing the good old pal for all hewasworth. The girl picked up her glass, gingerly sipped and nearly choked on the liquor, her fair skin turning scarlet with chagrin. Valentino laughed companionably and gave her a brotherly hug. She gazed at him with gratitude and the beginnings of real interest.

Lousy taste, Allie thought. At least find someone closer to your age. Like that boy in the Oxford bags…

But the girl wouldn’t be interested in some collegiate type. She wanted the bad men, the dangerous ones her parents wouldn’t approve…just like the ones who were beginning to circle the bar like sharks smelling blood.

Maybe she’ll get out of it all right. Maybe she’s smarter than she looks…

“Miss me, baby?”

Allie’s own chivalrous suitor set a fresh pair of drinks on the table and settled into his seat beside her. “Where were we?” he drawled. “Oh, yeah…you were saying that you don’t like to waste time.”

“That’s right. I’m a regular bearcat when my interest is aroused.”

“No kidding.” He licked his lips, as his hand snaked under the table and came to rest on her knee. “I admire a doll who gets right to the point.”

Suddenly Allie was sick of his clumsy lovemaking. She stopped his hand in its progress and pulled him out of his seat. “Let’s go.”

He gaped at her. “Now?”

She smiled mockingly. “Having second thoughts?”

“Don’t you even want to know my name?”

“Why? You don’t know mine.”

“Sure I do. You’re Allie Chase. Everyone knows you.”

“Isn’t that nice.” She ran her fingernails up the length of his sleeve. “Are you coming or not?”

He surrendered to her tug and followed her to the back door. “Where are we—”

“The alley.”

“You want to do it there?”

“Why not?”

He grinned, excitement replacing surprise. “All right, baby. Fast and hard it is.”

Allie had barely stepped out into the alley when he lunged at her and pushed her against the brick wall, one eager hand pushing the skirt of her dress up to her hips, while the other fumbled with his trousers. She felt the hard bulge of his cock pressing against her belly. With a little sigh she pressed her face against his neck and kissed him, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his collar. By the time he had worked her step-ins down around her thighs, she had pulled his coat and shirt away from his shoulders.

The hunger swept over her, demanding immediate relief. She kissed him at the juncture of his throat and shoulder, finding the veins closest to the skin. He forced her thighs apart. She bit him—gently, so gently that he would feel no more than the slightest pinch. She licked the small wound in his neck, tasting blood and releasing the chemicals her own body produced, waiting while they went to work…drew back and watched in astonishment as the slack face before her began to change, taking on strikingly different lines, brown eyes changing to gold, alight with fierce desire.

Allie swayed, startled by the sheer power of her own imagination. Her body grew hot and wet; she could almost feel Griffin Durant’s hands on her flesh, stroking, exploring, touching her breasts and her thighs. His mouth was on hers, savage and possessive; he pressed against her, demanding entrance, and she could think of nothing but taking him inside, making him a part of her for all time…

Her nameless prey gave a soft groan and let go of her shoulders. Griffin Durant vanished. Seized by desire that had become a raging thirst, Allie shook off her confusion and focused on the reality of the man in her grip. While he stood smiling in an erotic stupor, she took what she needed. The blood was both tart and sweet on her tongue. She felt new strength seep into her bones and muscles and organs, the first rush of euphoria that always came with a good feeding but was all too often so quick to evaporate.

When she was finished, she steered him to the wall and let him slump there while his wound began to heal. “That’s all, friend,” she said, patting his stubbled cheek. “You just sleep it off right here.”

His knees buckled, and he slid to the dirty pavement. Allie stepped over his sprawled legs and tapped on Lulu’s back door. A waiter opened it, glanced past her at the body and hastily stepped aside.

Everything was much as Allie had left it. Pepper was up on the table again; the jazz band was playing “Sugar Foot Stomp.” Allie found herself searching the crowd for a yellow dress with a string of pearls. She didn’t have far to look.

It was a lot worse than she’d thought. Valentino had been ousted from his favored position by a notorious womanizer who was known to prefer rape to any sort of consensual sex. Jake Greco was one of Carmine De Luca’s hatchet men, a bully of the worst kind—immensely handsome, ruthless and consummately capable of deceiving any woman naive enough not to know his reputation.

Miss Yellow-Dress had been completely taken in. Several empty glasses stood before her on the table she shared with Greco, and she had another in her hand. She giggled as she drank, nearly dropping the glass when she attempted to put it down. Greco laughed and dabbed at her mouth with his handkerchief. She draped her arms over his shoulders and whispered in his ear.

Whatever she’d said gave Greco the encouragement he needed. He groped at her small breasts. She squirmed, still half smiling as she made some mild protest. Greco didn’t listen. He pulled her hard against him and kissed her roughly. She braced her hands on his shoulders, trying to pull away. He made some comment that penetrated the girl’s inebriated haze. Suddenly her smile was gone, her pretty face aghast with the dim realization of what she had done.

Allie ran her tongue over her teeth. She knew what came next: Greco would strong-arm the girl out of the club, and he would get away with it, because the few people who might give a damn wouldn’t risk provoking his anger.

From the look of her, the girl wasn’t going to go quietly. Greco clamped his hand around her arm and started for the door; she leaned away with all her insubstantial weight, the heels of her pumps scraping along the floor. The jazz band played on with furious abandon, and every pair of eyes in the place was focused on something as far away from Greco and his victim as possible.

Every pair except Allie’s.

She strolled to her table, pulled her compact and lipstick from her tiny beaded pocketbook and carefully reapplied the vivid color. Jake Greco and the girl were halfway to the door. Allie fluffed her hair, gave her body a little shake and walked directly into Greco’s path.

“Why in such a hurry, handsome?”

He stopped, briefly startled by her abrupt appearance. “Allie Chase,” he said, digging his fingers into the girl’s tender skin. “What do you want?”

Allie examined her nails. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering why you always go after half-grown schoolgirls who can’t fight back.”

A look of pure fury crossed his face, and then his mouth twisted in a smirk. “Why would any girl want to fight me?” He yanked Miss Yellow-Dress around to face him. “They all love me. Ain’t that true, doll?”

The girl averted her eyes, every muscle in her thin frame straining against him. “Let me go,” she whispered.

Greco laughed. “They always say that. It don’t mean nothing.” He fixed Allie with a hard stare. “Get outta my way, bitch.”

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

He raised his fist. “I’ll give you five.”

She lifted her hand to her forehead and feigned a swoon. “Oh, deah. Whatevah shall Ah do?”

Greco swore and barreled forward, shoving Allie aside. She spun around and seized the back of his collar, jerking him to a halt.

“Come on, Jake,” she said. “You can do better than that, even if you do like to rape little girls.”

In one motion he released Miss Yellow-Dress and swung on Allie, his fist slicing the air like a meat cleaver. Allie moved lightly out of the way, grabbed Jake’s arm and twisted. With a cry of pain, Jake fell to his knees. Allie held his arm behind his back and kicked him in his posterior.

“Want to try again?” she asked.

He snorted like a bull, his face beet red. “I’ll kill you, bitch.”

“No, you won’t.” Bruce came to stand beside Allie, Nathan at his back. “Allie’s got too many friends, and you’ve got too many enemies.”

“That is right,” Kolya said, his heavy-lidded eyes flat with hostility. “You had best find another place to do your hunting, svoloch.”

“And remember you ain’t the only one who carries protection,” Jimmy said, patting his coat suggestively. “Them that live by the sword die by the sword, so they say.”

Allie’s heart warmed at her friends’ support. She didn’t need their help, but it meant something that they were willing to give it.

“You heard them, Jakey,” she said, blowing her breath into his ear. “You can get up and walk out of here…alone. If you pull your gun, you’ll never make it to the door.” She glanced up. “Pepper?”

“I’m here, darlin’.”

“Look after the girl, will you?”

“I’ll do that little thing. Come on, sugar.”

Allie heard the tap of two pairs of pumps moving away. When she was certain the girl was out of harm’s reach, she released Jake. He scrambled to his feet and thrust his hand inside his coat. Allie struck him across the face so hard that he crashed into the nearest table.

“One last chance,” she said. “Get out.”

Jake pawed at the broken table and hauled himself up, swaying like a drunken bear. Allie could see the thoughts plodding through his head as he weighed his chances. In the end he must have decided that Allie Chase was too strange a creature to fight. He staggered out the door.

Allie brushed at her dress and muttered a curse when she noticed the run in her left stocking.

“Send Jake the bill,” Bruce suggested. His eyes twinkled with appreciation. “That was quite a show, honey. Hard to believe a little thing like you can fight so well.”

“You did it for the girl,” Nathan said, glancing toward the table where Pepper sat with Miss Yellow-Dress.

Allie smoothed her hair. “Jake needed taking down a peg, that’s all.” She kicked off her pump and removed the ruined stocking. “Get me a drink, Kolya, would you?”

Kolya sauntered off, and Allie went to join Pepper and Miss Yellow-Dress. It was obvious that the girl had been crying, and Pepper was doing her best to comfort her. The girl’s long hair had fallen out of its pins, and her rouge was smeared. A fresh drink sat on the table before her.

“It’s all over now, sugar,” Pepper was saying. “That bad man won’t hurt you again. Allie made sure of that.” She looked up with a smile. “And here she is now.”

Allie slid into a chair opposite the girl, pushing aside the empty glasses. “You mind giving us a little privacy, Pep?”

“Sure thing, darlin’.” Pepper went off to join a friend at a nearby table, leaving Allie alone with the girl.

“Are you all right?” Allie asked.

Miss Yellow-Dress met her gaze, and for the first time Alley saw that her eyes were a rich combination of brown, gold and green, large and expressive and filled with confusion.

“I…” She swallowed. “Thank you so much for what you did.” Her voice held the slight trace of an accent, made somewhat indistinct by the lingering effects of alcohol.

But Allie barely heard her. She was struck by a realization that had utterly escaped her until this moment, an awareness that made her skin prickle in a way it hadn’t done since a certain meeting in an alley off East Forty-second Street.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The girl hesitated. “Ruby.”

“Ruby what?”

“Du…Dubois. Ruby Dubois.”

Kolya arrived with Allie’s drink, and she took a fortifying mouthful before she spoke again. “This is your first time at a speak, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes.”

“How old are you, Ruby?”

“Six…almost seventeen.”

“Do you understand the risks you took tonight?”

The girl stared at Allie’s glass. “Yes.”

“Does your family know where you are?”

“No.”

“Then hadn’t you better call them and let them know?”

“No! I mean…” Ruby hunched her shoulders. “I don’t want him to find out. Anyway, I’ll be home before he knows I was gone.”

“He?”

“My brother. He’d kill me if he knewI’d come here.”

I’ll just bet he would, Allie thought. “Why didn’t you fight harder when Jake tried to take you out? You could have overpowered him, just as I did.”

“I beg your—”

“I know what you are, Ruby.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“Sure. Amazing how easy it is to tell once you’ve got the knack.”

“Then you…you’re one of us?”

“Try again.”

“Oh.” Ruby flushed with mingled fear and excitement. “You’re a—”

Allie pressed her finger to Ruby’s lips. “You’re the only person here who knows.”

“Not even your friends?”

“That’s right.”

“But the way you fought…Didn’t anyone notice?”

“It’s amazing what people will accept if you act casual enough about it.”

Ruby considered that for a moment, chewing on her lower lip. “If you’re…one of them, why did you help me?”

“You mean, those old, outdated prejudices?” Allie buffed her nails on her thigh. “They bore me.”

“Oh.” Another thought captured her attention. “Do you know any other loups-garous?”

Once more Allie thought of golden eyes and a strong, grave face. “Not many.”

“I’ve never met anyone from the pack,” Ruby said eagerly. “My brother won’t let me.”

“Your brother?”

“Gerald. Gerald Dubois.”

“Don’t know him. Anyway, I thought all werewolves belonged to the pack.”

“Not us.” She sighed. “My brother doesn’t trust many people. He likes living alone.”

It was painfully obvious that Ruby was desperate to confide in someone, desperate enough that she would reveal all sorts of personal information to the first person who seemed to be on her side. Allie found herself prepared to encourage the girl for reasons she couldn’t quite acknowledge.

“What’s he like, your brother—besides being so eager to protect you?”

“He’s always serious. He almost never laughs. I know a lot of it’s because of the War. He was my age when he went over. I hardly remember what he was like before.” She ran her finger through a puddle of whiskey on the table. “He wants me to marry a rich man and become a member of New York society.”

“Human society?”

“He thinks I’ll be safer that way.”

“Because he doesn’t trust other werewolves.”

“Yes.”

“But you want to be one of them.”

“I want to be free.”

Allie felt an unwelcome stab of pity. She knewwhat itwas like to feel trapped, confined to a narrowlife with the obliviousworld going past you day after day. She’d been confined by her own body. Ruby was being asked—by her own kin, no less—to deny her very nature.

They had more in common than Allie cared to admit.

“Don’t worry, kid,” she said gently, “when you’re a little older, you’ll find a way to become what you were meant to be.”

Ruby sat straighter in her chair, as if bracing for an argument. “Will you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

“To be like you.” She scooted forward, the pulse beating fast at the base of her throat. “To be beautiful and sophisticated and free.”

At another time Allie might have been amused, but the situation was beginning to get far too complicated. “I don’t take apprentices,” she said. “And your brother…”

“But he doesn’t have to find out! I was careful. Miss Spires is on my side. We’re not far from the train station, so it’s easy for me to get here.”

“And easy for you to get into trouble.”

Ruby lifted her chin. “It’s better to take risks and try new things than spend your whole life afraid of anything different.”

Like your brother is afraid, Allie thought. She leaned back in her chair. “You’re right,” she said, “you can’t spend your life running away.”

“Then you’ll let me stay, just for tonight? I promise I won’t be any bother.”

“Oh, let her, Allie,” Pepper said, returning to the table. “No one is goin’ to bother her now.”

“Sure,” Jimmy said, sprawling into an empty chair. “Poor kid probably never has any fun.” He grinned at Ruby. “Where d’you live, infant?”

“On Long Island,” Ruby said, gazing at Jimmy’s platinum hair.

“There you go,” Jimmy said. “Give her a break, Allie.”

Sibella pulled up another chair and took the pencil out of her mouth. “I’d like to sketch her,” she said.

“And I,” Kolya announced, “shall compose a poem on the death of innocence. She must remain as my inspiration.”

Allie frowned. It wasn’t as if Ruby—if that was really her name, which she doubted—would suffer any real harm from remaining with the group for a few more hours, now that she’d gotten through the worst of the night. And if “Gerald Dubois” really did have her future planned out for her—which Allie didn’t doubt in the least—she wouldn’t deny the girl the chance to experience a little precious freedom beforehand.

“All right,” she said. “You can stay. As long as you don’t give me any grief when it’s time to go home.”

Ruby grinned. “I won’t, I promise!” She practically danced with excitement, all memories of her ugly encounter with Greco happily forgotten. Everyone crowded close to welcome her into Allie’s circle.

The night was loud, bright and raucous. Pepper set about teaching Ruby the Charleston, whileKolya drank vodka and scribbled scraps of poetry on his notepad. Allie showed her howto apply lipstick with a fewquick strokes of the finger and coached her in how to kick a troublesome skirt chaser in the groin. The girl learned quickly, her innocent charm and unfeigned pleasure a surprisingly welcome change in such a jaded atmosphere.

Allie had been naive in many ways when Cato had Converted her. Ruby aroused feelings she’d almost forgotten…just like Griffin Durant. And maybe that wasn’t such a terrible thing after all.

By 3:00 a.m. Allie was beginning to regret that she would have to send Ruby home. She pushed through the gang of admirers who had become a permanent fixture around the girl and found Pepper standing over Ruby with a pair of shears in her hands. Half of Ruby’s luxuriant brown tresses lay on the ground at her feet; the other half still hung over her shoulders.

“There, now,” Pepper said. “We’re halfway there…”

“Pepper!” Allie snatched the shears out of Pepper’s hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Pepper’s small pink mouth dropped open. “Why, I…Ruby wanted a nice little bob, and I’ve had some experience with—”

“With angry brothers?” Allie stood in front of Ruby, hands on her hips. “This was your idea?”

Ruby was utterly unrepentant. “I hate my hair. I want it to be short, like everyone else’s. What’s wrong with that?”

“I thought the idea was to hide tonight’s adventures from your brother? That won’t exactly be possible now, will it?”

“I’ll tell him I just went to a barbershop.”

“In the middle of the night? I’m sure that will appease him.” Allie weighed the shears in her hand. “You don’t mind if I finish it, Pepper?”

Pepper stepped back, and Allie took her place behind Ruby. She was just putting the finishing touches on Ruby’s new bob when a sudden commotion began at Lulu’s front door. The doorman and a couple of bouncers were attempting to prevent a man from entering, but it was quickly obvious that they were having little success. The man cast them off like a dog shaking water from its coat and charged into the room, looking sharply this way and that.

Ruby let out a soft gasp and started up from her chair. Allie didn’t have to study the newcomer to know who he was or why he was here. Her heart began to race with unaccustomed anticipation.

She steered Ruby back to the table, took her own seat and waited while her friends settled around her. An instant later the newcomer’s eyes found Allie—yellow eyes filled with startling intensity and seething emotion—and then focused on Ruby. He strode toward them, long legs eating up the distance, and came to a halt beside Allie’s chair.

“Miss Chase,” he said, “what in God’s name are you doing with my sister?”