“We did,” Estelle replied testily.
“Should’ve knocked louder.”
To prove his point, Patrick approached the door and pounded on it with a heavy fist. A couple of seconds later, the handle turned and the door opened. Carmen greeted him with a smile on her face, red-pupiled eyes staring at him. Her curled horns nearly scraped the door when she tilted her head.
“Bastardo,” she purred.
“I know your master likes his games, but Wade is gonna chew off his arm if we don’t feed him soon. Can we get this over with?”
“I’ll chew offyourarm,” Wade muttered.
Jono pushed him forward. “Get inside.”
Wade dragged his feet as he shoved his way through the god pack to get to the door. He crossed the threshold with a scowl, sulking like only a teenager could. Sage followed after him, head held high, and didn’t once acknowledge Estelle and Youssef. The growls from the werewolves the god pack alphas had brought with them were met by a smile full of teeth from Jono.
“Piss off,” he told them as he walked inside.
Patrick crossed the threshold and watched as Carmen pushed the door open wider, staring Estelle and Youssef down. “I won’t ask for hospitality because you aren’t worth it. But you will pay in blood if you disrespect my master.”
“And who is your master?” Youssef asked.
Carmen smirked, gesturing lazily with her hand. “Come inside and find out.”
“Maria was the one who called us here.”
“Because we told her to.”
A look of unease flashed across Estelle and Youssef’s bright amber eyes. They kept whatever they were feeling to themselves and stepped inside. Patrick expected the rest of their party to be blown backward like the last time but was surprised when that didn’t happen.
The door slammed shut, and Carmen strode over to the bar where Naheed sat on top of the tarp-covered counter, pointedly cleaning two SIG Sauers. A third pistol, fully assembled, sat within reach. She was, as always, ever the attentive bodyguard during the day.
“The other Night Courts had treaties with Tremaine’s. They still hold treaties with us. Is that why we are here?” Estelle wanted to know.
“A piece of paper doesn’t give you any rights,” Lucien said as he came down the stairs from the mezzanine. “I hold treaties with no one.”
Patrick always found it interesting how people reacted to seeing Lucien in person for the first time. Most didn’t recognize who he was, not immediately, though they never missedwhathe was. Wearing faded black jeans, a black T-shirt, and scuffed combat boots, his pale skin stood out against the dark clothes. Lucien didn’t hide his fangs when he smiled at the pair of god pack alphas, black eyes watching as all the blood drained from their faces.
“Daywalker,” Youssef said, dragging the word out. He never took his eyes off Lucien as the master vampire approached.
“In the flesh.”
“You killed Tremaine,” Estelle said slowly.
“I don’t care for disobedient children.”
Everyone heard the breath Estelle sucked in past her teeth, a tell—a weakness—her side couldn’t afford to give up. “He was your child?”
“I made him, and I put him down as was my right, the same way I’ll put you down if you get in my way.”
Patrick knew the moment Estelle figured out the identity of the monster walking her way. The way her body went stiff, the faint tremble of her bottom lip as her eyes widened, proved she wasn’t completely stupid.
“Lucien,” she breathed out.
The master vampire’s smile was all the answer she got, but it was enough. No vampire would attempt to impersonate Lucien, and his reputation spoke for itself.
Lucien didn’t stop until he stood toe-to-toe with Estelle, the pack members she’d brought silent in the face of a predator more dangerous than all of them combined. “I wanted the Manhattan Night Court, so I took it. Whatever treaties Tremaine held with your god pack are null and void. Stay the fuck out of my territory.”
Estelle opened her mouth, then shut it, her eyes never leaving Lucien’s face. “We have pass-through rights.”
