Next, I grab some food, then head over to the strip club to snoop. Four days away should have smoothed over any feathers I ruffled by asking about Roscoe. As I approach the now familiar building, a smile takes over my face. I’m about to see Celine, and I bet she looks fucking?—
I trip over something in the dark and barely lift my hands in time to avoid face planting into the concrete wall. Poking the lumpy thing with my toe, I jump back as it whimpers.
“Umm, sorry,” I mutter, squinting at the little face blinking up at me. Shit, it’s a kid. Outside a strip club. That’s weird as fuck.
The child blinks a few times, but there’s no awareness in his eyes. He tips over and goes back to sleep, his mouth falling open against the pavement.What the fuck is going on here?He’s a bit young to be drunk, and I don’t see any sign of injury. Bending over, I gingerly put two fingers on the child’s neck, relieved to find his pulse is strong and steady.
I sigh, my fun plans for the night vanishing like smoke. I’m going to have to get help inside and draw unwanted attention to myself in the process. I’m not even sure what the kid is. I can sense he isn’t human, but beyond that, his kind isn’t immediately obvious. Definitely not a demon or a shifter . ..
Groaning, I open the door and shoulder my way through the crowd. It’s Friday night, and the Naked Fang is more crowded than I’ve ever seen it. Luca is behind the bar, his hair falling in his eyes as he fills a pitcher with beer. The tattered tank top he’s wearing should make him look like he left his fashion game in the ’90s, but grunge suits him perfectly.
I wait my turn impatiently, noting with satisfaction the recognition that flares in his eyes when he spots me. “What can I get for you?” Luca asks.
I shake my head. “You don’t have anything back there strong enough for this. I need to show you something.”
Luca sighs, then rolls his eyes. “That was a terrible line.”
“I’m not talking about my cock, man,” I say, wincing. “In fact, don’t even think about my cock during this conversation, please. There’s a kid passed out in the alley.”
He frowns at me. “We don’t serve underage here.”
“No, you’re not hearing me.” I raise my voice over the rising thump of the bass. “There’s a literal child outside. I tripped over it. Him,” I correct myself.
Luca’s stare sharpens. He studies me, then glances over my shoulder in the direction of the back rooms. “Fuck, okay. Show me.”
I lead him out the door, feeling eyes on me the entire way. I glance back, but there are way too many people in this club to know who’s watching. Part of me hopes the kid took off, but he’s right where I left him, curled up in a tight ball on the hard ground. “See,” I say, pointing to the child. “I told you.”
Luca shoots me a disgruntled look, then runs his fingersthrough his hair. “Not this again.Shit.” I frown, but before I can ask him to explain what he means, he focuses back on me. “Can you tell what he is?”
I shake my head. “Not a demon. That’s for sure.”
“You didn’t see wings, did you?”
His cagey tone catches my interest, and I cock my head to the side. “No wings.” Angels aren’t the only winged supernaturals, but given Luca’s connections... Only a dumbass would miss the obvious logical leap. “You think he’s an angel?”
Luca stiffens. “I have no idea what he is. Watch him for a second, would you? I’ll be right back.”
“What?” I snap. “Don’t leave me with him.”
Luca ignores me, disappearing into the club without a backward glance. I eye the child suspiciously, but he’s sound asleep.
I count to sixty four times before the door opens again with a metallic whine. Luca steps through, followed by Celine. She has a green, silky robe tossed over her shoulders and belted at the waist. This outfit is somehow hotter than the lingerie I imagined earlier. Celine glances at me with narrowed eyes, then peers at the boy.
“What is it?” I ask while Luca grunts impatiently.
Celine levels us both with a frustrated glare. “Heis a child,” she says.
“No shit,” I scoff. “But what kind? There’s no way that energy is human.”
Celine ignores me, giving Luca a nod. He scrubs his hand over the stubble on his jaw and digs a cell phone out of his pants. My temper surges. I hate being ignored.
“Don’t do that,” I hiss. Both of them lift their heads. “I found him. Don’t you think I deserve to know what he is too?”
“No,” Celine says shortly.
“Why not?” I demand, advancing a step toward her.
“Because I don’t trust you.”
