Satisfied we weren’t packing, he opened the door and stepped aside to let us through.
We walked into a large, sterile living room, a sunken-in sitting area framed by a white leather, U-shaped couch. The walls were also stark white, and not a single piece of art or pop of color could be found. There wasn’t even a TV, but a nearby bookcase had a few classics on its shelves, looking well-read with creases in their spines.
A man in a dark gray suit with shoulder-length, wine-red hair stood with his back to us in front of floor-to-ceiling windows.
I waited for him to acknowledge our arrival when a strong, sweet scent invaded my senses, causing fireworks to go off in my brain.
What was this? Some kind of trick?
My head swiveled around like I might find the source of it somewhere in the air or hiding in the corners.
“Ronan, you good?” Garrick whispered beside me out of the corner of his mouth.
My teeth began to ache, and my lips curled as I sucked on them to ease the pain.
This had to be some kind of weird vampire magic, maybe to throw me off my game.
I breathed in through my mouth, but the scent now lingered on my tongue like the taste of something delicious, and the crotch of my pants suddenly felt way too tight.
What the hell was going on?
The man at the window sighed, swirling a flute full of blood and taking a sip, his shoulders flinching slightly before finally turning around.
My eyes widened in surprise. I was in the presence of Victor Corvane, the Premier of Noctis himself.
“Ronan Blackthorne, correct?” he asked, his voice low and steeped in power.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to free myself of whatever strange magic was still in the air. “The one and only.”
He stared at me, tilting his head slightly. “And I can assume you know who I am?”
“Yep.”
One of the guards standing along the wall stepped forward with a growl. “That’s ‘yes, sir,’ to you!”
Victor dismissed him with a casual wave of his hand. “Thank you, but we can dispense with formalities tonight.”
The guard hissed but retreated as commanded. Victor took another sip of his drink, wincing like he didn’t like the taste before speaking again.
“Mr. Blackthorne, I need you to find someone.”
It took all of my willpower not to roll my eyes.Yeah, no shit.
I cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“A witch omega has stolen something priceless from me. The deal is for you to find her and bring her back—alive, untouched, and unharmed—within ten days. For every day sooner that you can get her here, I’ll pay an additional one hundred thousand runics.”
I lit up at this. A majority of my bounties took less than a week to procure anyway, and the total rewards were way less than just his incentive. I could make some serious money, here.
“How much is the base payment?” I asked.
“Five million runics.”
I caught my gasp before it escaped my lips. Five million with a possibility for hundreds of thousands more wasn’t just enough to take some time off, it was enough to retire on.
“But only if she is brought back alive, do you understand? I wish to… punish her myself for her crimes.”
I nodded, trying not to appear too eager. That stipulation wasn’t too unusual.
