Reining in his irritation, he ignored her baiting and turned to take in the busy café.
The brunette waitress at the table farther down watched him from beneath her lashes while she served a customer. She’d been sending him all sorts of signals from the moment she’d set his coffee down. Ones he didn’t encourage since he had no interest in females as a whole. Besides, he knew what a jealous bitch Inanna could be.
A virulent hiss erupted from opposite him when she spotted the waitress. As if to prove his point, with a flick of her hand, the waitress flew backward, crashing into a table. Chaos erupted, drowning the female’s frightened cry. Two human males rushed to help her.
A cat-like smile curved Inanna’s mouth. But her eyes flared with ire as she played with the deep blue lapis lazuli stone set in intricate silver filigree around her neck. “Look at another human tart again, and I will hurt her.”
Of that, he had little doubt. With his mind, Reynner froze every customer in the café and rose to his feet. Fists planted on the table, he leaned forward, his anger leashed by a thin thread. Her scent of myrrh and exotic crap hit him square in the face, bringing back memories he far preferred locked away in permanent amnesia.
“Reynner…” Her breath came out in a tiny puff, her expression brightening with lust. She raised a hand to stroke his face. He jerked away. “You were a one-night-fuck gone wrong. Go find some other fool to dupe.”
“Arghhhh,”she shrieked and flashed out from the café.
Unfortunately, she’d be back with lust or vengeance on her mind. He far preferred the latter—fuck!He clenched down on his teeth at the sudden spike of pain in his left pec at her retaliation—one he could never escape. Breathing hard through his nose, it took several moments before it eased to bearable levels.
No, it never did to tell one of Inanna’s stature it was over. He’d learned that the hard way when she’d tossed his drugged hide into Hell in a fit of temper. And a worse nightmare had begun.
Reynner clamped down on the destructive memories that would take over and released the humans from his psychic hold. As the din resumed, he walked out of the café. The dissonance and sweltering heat of the Lower East Side welcomed him.
Itching for a no-holds-barred fight to haul him back from anger that rode him, he headed down the street, hoping to come across a horde of demoniis. Those soul-suckers made perfect punching bags, and he got to kill them.
More, it frustrated the hell out of him that he still couldn’t get a bead on the foretold mortal female he’d been searching for. Only her blood could awaken the mystical scroll and lead him to the missing artifact needed to power the waning Stones of Light his world desperately needed.
Lucan, their mage, had foisted the job of finding the girl onto Reynner and pointed him to New York, the one place he’d spent the least amount of time over the centuries. But whomever Lucan had sensed was no longer here. Several weeks of tramping around this city had proven that.
Slipping his hand in his coat pocket, he snagged the last piece of cherry candy, unwrapped it, and popped the thing into his mouth. Perhaps it was time to move on—
His cell went off. Balling up the wrapper, he scored it into a nearby Dumpster before answering. “Yeah?”
“I'm at Club Anarchy, see you in five,” the male on the other end said. Reynner’s cell went dead. He scowled. When the archangel called, it meant more crap was about to fall. Usually on him.
***
Eve Leighton climbed out of the taxi and into a blast of humid air, half tempted to jump back into the cool, protective barrier the interior of the cab offered. The Lower East Side in late August, nope, not a fun place to be right now. Shutting the door, she turned and stepped right into the bile-inducing odor of stale beer. Christ! The stench nearly knocked her off her feet.
The human brewery grinned, displaying a mouthful of stained teeth. “Hello there, you-you gorgeousss thing.”
Eve shot the drunk a withering look. She clutched her purse to her chest, dodged him, and quickened her pace. Her own fault for being late, she’d gotten lost in her work. Again. It took Eric’s irate call to get her rushing from her studio to her apartment, and like a berserker, she’d changed and called a cab. But she’d forgotten a fundamental rule for Friday nights: always leave early. Traffic had been a nightmare.
Nine thirty-seven wasn’t too late, she decided. Her friends couldn’t get mad at her on her birthday. Then she wrinkled her nose wryly. Her bag vibrated, startling her.Like A Virginbelted out.
“Dammit!” Eve snatched her cell phone and shut off the song. Her new ringtone had Kataya’s big footprints stamped all over it. She knew precisely why Kat had downloaded that stupid track.
“Eve, tell me you're on your way.” Eric’s annoyed voice grated in her ear.
“I'm here, just around the corner—”
“Good. I’ll meet you outside.”
“No-no, you don’t have to—”
The line went dead. Darn it! She glared at her cell. She didn’t need a bodyguard. Shooting a wary glance behind her, Eve grimaced when she found the greasy-haired drunk stumbling after her.
She hastened her steps and cut through the busy traffic. As she approached Club Anarchy, she blew out a wry breath. Why had she bothered wasting five precious minutes deciding what to wear when leather and skin seemed to be all the rage? Still, she straightened her strappy black top and smoothed her short skirt with its flippy hemline.
Two brawny bouncers guarded the club entrance, keeping order in the long line of noisy party revelers snaking down the alley.
Eric wasn't out front, but Kataya was, dressed in sleek, dark pants and a midriff revealing halter-top. Her belly button ring gleamed in the moonlight. She stood away from the crush at the entrance, smoking. Her corkscrew red hair was scraped into a French braid but a few curly strands escaped to frame her pale face. She waved when she saw Eve, her engagement ring glinting in the light from the streetlamp.
