He nodded, filled the cup, then walked back. I have to say, the packaging looked just as good from the front, too. He slid the coffee across the red-lit countertop, but waved away my money. "If you're going to be here a few hours, we'll run a tab and you can pay when you leave."
"Thanks." I lifted the mug, wrapping my hands around it to warm them up. One sip proved the security guy hadn't been kidding. The coffee was like sludge—thick and strong but surprisingly tasty.
"So, it lives up to its rep?" the bartender asked, watching my expression with increasing amusement.
"I think it's safe to say I've never tasted anything like it. But it certainly warms the cockles." I grinned and held out a hand. "I'm Riley."
"Jin."
His fingers were warm against mine, his palms calloused and grip strong. Not the hands of someone who did bartending for a living. "You tend bar here often?"
He shrugged as he grabbed a tea towel and began polishing glasses. "Couple of times a week. It's good money for casuals."
"Ah." I took a sip of the coffee. "That's probably why I haven't seen you before."
"You come here often, then?"
Something flashed on his left hand as he picked up another glass. A ring of some kind. Luckily, it was on his index finger rather than his ring finger. I hated flirting with someone who was married. Just a waste of everyone's time.
"Sometimes." I grinned. "I got personal attention from a yummy bartender then, too."
"We're the friendly type here." He studied me for a moment, interest still very evident. "That why you're here today?"
"Actually, no. I'm here to catch up with an old friend who works here part-time."
"What's his name?"
"Her name. Trudi Stone." I studied him, but caught no reaction to her name. Though why I was expecting one, I couldn't say.
"Hang on a sec, and I'll go check when she's next on." He walked down to the middle of the bar, served a man who was giving me a more than casual look over, then disappeared inside a small office. He came back out a few seconds later. "According to the roster, she isn't back on until tomorrow night."
"Damn, I swear she said she was on today." I put the coffee down and crossed my arms on the counter, leaning forward a little to give him a better view of my breasts. Hey, he was sexy, and I might as well enjoy myself while scavenging around for information. I certainly couldn't risk trying to read his mind here—not when there were security cameras everywhere. My telepathy might be strong, but anyone could be watching, and it would only take one person to notice the momentary stillness of the bartender as I searched his mind for things to go ass up. Better to do that sort of thing when I had him alone. "So, when are you back on?"
His gaze went from my face to my boobs and back again. Amusement curved his very kissable lips. "When do you want me on?"
"How about tonight?"
"It'd be my pleasure."
I raised an eyebrow. "It had better be mine, too."
He chuckled softly. "Oh, I guarantee it. But I do need a contact number."
"If you've got the pen, I've got the number."
He produced a pen and a bit of paper from under the desk and slid both across the counter with his left hand. For the first time, the ring on his finger was fully visible.
On the flat silver surface was a three-headed dragon with wicked claws and bloodred eyes.
Just like the ring I'd found in the dust at Dunleavy's place.
Chapter Five
"Nice ring," I murmured after a momentary pause, then casually picked up the pen and wrote down my cell phone number.
"This old thing?" He wriggled his fingers under the lights, so that the fiery eyes of the dragon heads glittered and burned. "It's just a club ring. Not worth much, but it catches the attention of pretty girls."
If he was lying, I couldn't sense it. Not that that meant anything. He was human, after all. "So it's a conversation opener?"
"It always helps to have one." He picked up the paper and tucked it neatly into his shirt pocket. "What time would you like to meet?"
I picked up my coffee and sipped it again. "What time do you finish here?"
"Seven."
"Then would nine suit?"
"Perfectly. Shall we meet somewhere for coffee or just go out tor dinner?"
"Dinner." I paused. "There's an Italian place over on Rathdown Street. Small and intimate. Goes by the name of Riceni's."
He nodded. "Good choice."
"I always make good choices." My voice was a low purr, and heat rose in his eyes. I gave him a slow smile. "In the meantime, would you know if the restaurant upstairs is still open?"
"It never closes. If you head up the stairs now, I'll ring the chef and tell him to 'look after you."
"Thanks." I slid off the stool, picked up my coffee, and headed up the stairs—fully aware of Jin's hungry gaze following me and enjoying every minute of it.
The chef did indeed look after me, giving me a steak that sliced like butter and lashings of chips and vegetables. It was one full but happy wolf who headed out onto the street an hour later.
Once in the car, I retrieved my phone, pressed the vid-enable button, then dialed the Directorate. Jack, not the caramel cow.
"Hey, boss man, it's Riley."
"Good grief, she's reporting in. Miracles do happen."
I grinned. "I can be a good little wolf when I want to be."
"Which isn't often. What happened at Dunleavy's?"
I gave him a quick roundup of events, including my thoughts on Gautier, the details about the ring, and who the little girl's mom was.
"The thing I don't get is how Gautier is getting around after sunrise."
"I don't know. He shouldn't be able to."
"Well, he is, so we'd better find out real quick just how."
He grunted. "It's a shame both victims were dead when you got there. You could have read their minds to see what information they had to pass on."
Which was my cue to tell him about what I'd seen—and heard—in the bedroom. "Well, Dunleavy was sort of alive when I got there."
"Define 'sort of.'"
"He was groaning when I walked in. As I got to his side, his body sort of collapsed, and I saw his soul rise." I hesitated again. "I swear it said Dahaki."
"Dahaki?"
"Yeah. And I'm not sure whether it was simply air rushing out of a dying body or whether his spirit was actually trying to communicate." Or whether I was as crazy as I sounded.
"Given the reports that suggest your clairvoyance is developing strongly in areas that are not the norm, I'd say there's a fair chance you did hear his spirit speak. Which is interesting, to say the least."
"It's creepy, that's what it is."
"Maybe. But the ability to question the truly dead sure as hell would give us an advantage against the freaks we hunt."
"Only if I'm there when they die, Jack."
"Or if their spirits hang around."
A chill ran across my skin. I did not want to think about spirits hanging around waiting for a chat.
"I've asked Cole to send me a transcription of the writing on the inside of the ring as soon as he can, but if you want to have a look at it, it'll be on the recordings I sent via my phone."
"I'll get Salliane to dig them up. I'll also order a check on the design and see what we come up with. What about Trudi Stone—any luck on your follow-up?"
So the caramel cow had gone tattle-telling. Again. "I went to the club where she worked and talked to an Asian fellow. He was wearing a ring with the same design as the ring I found at Dunleavy's."