“She’s not a fucking toy.”
My heart stutters, and I turn to face him.Did he really just say that?
There’s a menacing gleam in his eyes as he leans over the table toward Czar in an act that can only be seen as a threat.
Czar laughs, but it lacks humor. “Fair enough.” He eases back in his chair, inching away from Azrael and the danger he emanates.
Unable to fight the urge to comfort him, I reach out and stroke up and down Azrael’s back until he relaxes against my touch and turns into me, sending a sense of happiness throughout my entire being.
“Jesus. You need to be careful,” Czar remarks as he watches us closely. Then he shakes his head and takes a drink of his beer before shifting his focus to me. “Really fucking careful, Azrael.”
Azrael stiffens. “Don’t lookat her.”
Czar drags a hand down his face. “You’re fucked. You do know that, right?”
Azrael downs the Scotch and pours another one from the bottle. “You’re one to talk,” he quips back.
Czar takes a moment before replying, and I’m somewhat impressed with the way he conducted a remark that was clearly meant to wound him. He has control over his emotions, much more than I think Azrael realizes. “I know,” he admits, and a deep-seated sympathy swells in my stomach for the man who radiated vulnerability.
It’s like he’s screaming out for help. Screaming out for mercy, and I hate it. For both of them.
There’s someone Czar cares a lot about, judging by the wistful look on his face, and in the few short minutes I’ve been in his presence, I know there’s something extraordinary about him. He appears normal to the naked eye, but the maniacal glow in his stare tells me otherwise. He’s a force to be reckoned with, should he need to be.
“What do you think of our club…” Czar asks, waving his hand around the room, but struggles with my name.
“Hevan. Her name is Hevan.” Azrael speaks for me.
Czar’s eyebrows lift, then he clears his throat. “Hevan, how apt.”
A growl leaves Azrael, and his face twists into an ugly snarl, and I can’t help but wonder if the brothers are always like this.
“It’s different,” I say, hoping to break the tension building again.
He snorts. “We have some of the finest whores in the area.” His dark eyes dance with mock glee while Azrael rolls his eyes and takes another drink of his amber liquid.
Czar clears his throat. “Larissa is downstairs searching for you.”
Azrael’s spine goes ramrod straight. “How the fuck did she know I was here?” he snaps.
“Who’s Larissa?” I ask.
“Nobody,” Azrael says, but his attention remains solely on Czar.
“I told you; you need to be careful.”
“Can you get rid of her for me?” he asks Czar.
Czar drops his head back dramatically, then lifts it up to give Azrael his focus. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” Azrael nods firmly.
“You owe me,” Czar asserts.
“That’s a change from you owing me.”
“Hevan, nice to meet you. Be safe.” He slams his beer bottle down on the table, throws a wink in my direction, then leaves the room as quickly as he arrived.
“What just happened?” I ask as the door closes behind him.
