“Yeah. Might have to fix that now that the place is pulling decent money.” He thrust a hand through his still-damp brown hair. “Anyway, the heat had the thing inside me stirring. The hotter the air got, the stronger it got, but both Rachel and I were working flat out and I just couldn’t take time to go sit in the freezer for a while.”
“And you didn’t think it would get to the point that it did.” I said it softly, without accusation. Tao wasn’t the type to risk the lives of others.
“It’s never been this bad before. I don’t know why it was this time.”
I drank some beer and contemplated him. The elemental’s flames still burned fiercely within him—the power of it glowed under his skin.
“Obviously, the kitchen heat had something to do with it.”
“Yeah.” He took a sip of beer and leaned back in the chair. “I had all the jets going on the stove. It seems to feed on that sort of stuff.”
It was a fire elemental, so that was logical. “It might also have been the sun. It was warm today.”
He raised his eyebrows. “No sun gets into the kitchen.”
“It mightn’t need direct sunlight. Maybe just the warmth is enough.” I paused. “At least no one was hurt. You controlled it that much; in the end, that’s all that matters.”
“But I almost didn’t.” His expression was bleak. “I’m scared to death it’ll take me over, and I’ll destroy everything and everyone I love.”
I put my beer down, then knelt in front of him and took his hands in mine. “I promise you, Tao, we won’t let this thing destroy you or anyone else. It hasn’t won the fights, and it won’t win the battle. We won’t let it.”
“I hope you’re right.” But his expression suggested he actually held very little hope himself.
I hesitated. “Maybe you should work at night for the time being. At least until you’re more confident of your ability to control the elemental.”
“Yeah.” He tugged his hands free from mine and pulled me close. For several minutes he did nothing more than hug me—it almost felt like he was attempting to hold on to his own humanity by hanging on to mine. Gradually, the heat in him began to dissipate, until his body temperature was only a little above what would be considered normal for a werewolf.
Only then did the tension in him subside.
He released me and said, “Looks like we’ve both got an unintended night off.”
I forced a smile and sat back on my heels. “I guess the fire did have one benefit, then.”
“I guess it did.” He scrubbed a hand across his stubbly chin, the sound like sandpaper against a wall. “I might take myself down to the Blue Moon and lose a couple hours.”
And the ghosts of fear, I suspected. They were ghosts I knew all too well, because they were inside me, too. “I’ll ring Ilianna and update her.”
“Oh fuck, I forgot—”
“Don’t worry,” I cut in quickly, as the air temperature suddenly spiked. The elemental might be down, but it wasn’t yet out. He needed to keep calm. “I’ll take care of it. Just go have some fun and relax.”
“I will.” He rose and kissed the top of my head. “Thanks.”
I caught my bottom lip with my teeth as I watched him walk out. Because I knew, despite my promises, that there was no guarantee he would win this battle. He had to find the strength within himself—none of us could do that for him, and certainly there was no magic or potion that would work in this sort of situation. Lord only knew, Ilianna and the Brindle witches had tried hard enough to find one.
Tao was one of the strongest people I knew, but he was obviously struggling. And I knew, deep down, that there was a very real possibility that we might yet lose him to the monster that resided within.
In the end, I decided against leaving Amaya behind. Lucian might fear the sorcerer’s reaction to her, but I wasn’t about to walk into the unknown without the means to fully protect myself. And if that meant that the sorcerer walked, then so be it.
Maxwell’s, it turned out, was more than just a lovely little bar situated at the upscale end of Collins Street. It also happened to be an extremely discreet wolf club.
Not that you could tell from merely stepping inside the place. It appeared to be nothing more than a very stylish, very elegant bar that CantLT Std">catered to humans and non-humans alike. The surrounds—old-world architecture, luxurious leather couches, and a stunning marble bar—gave it the feel of a gentlemen’s club, although overall it was far more friendly and welcoming.
It was only the faintest trace of sex and desire stirring lazily through the air that gave the game away and, even then, it was only an occasional tease.
I briefly contemplated walking out, but if I did that, I might throw away our one and only chance to talk to someone with the skill to either stop or mute the transmitter in my heart. We needed to at least hear our options before we declined them.
Although if I was being completely honest, the real reason I didn’t walk out was that I was intrigued. I’d never heard of Maxwell’s—not even a whisper on the grapevine—which meant whoever ran it maintained extreme control. And that made me wonder why. Franklin’s—the private wolf club I was a member of—was also very discreet, but it was not unknown in the wolf world, and I imagined it catered to the same sort of upmarket clientele.
A waiter approached, a polite smile creasing his pleasant features. “Welcome to Maxwell’s, ma’am. Are you here for a casual drink, or would you prefer a seat in our restaurant?”
I hesitated. “I’m here to meet a friend—Mr. Lucian Dupont—but I’m not sure whether he’s booked a table or not.”
“Ah yes, Mr. Dupont said you might be late. He and his other guest have been here for just over an hour.” Though there was no censure in his voice, it was nevertheless a gentle rebuke. Obviously, one did not keep members waiting. Amusement teased my lips as he motioned a waitress forward. “Amy will show you to the private dining area.”
Was “private dining” a euphemism for the werewolf section? I guessed I’d find out soon enough. I followed the willowy waitress through the main bar and up the stairs. The third floor held the wolf club, if the strengthening smell of sex and lust was anything to go by, but we didn’t stop there. We went on, up to the fourth floor, then along a corridor that had darkly stained wood-panel doors at regular intervals. She stopped at the seventh one and knocked politely. “Your final guest has arrived, Mr. Dupont.”
“Please send her in,” Lucian replied, in a cool and authoritative tone. The high-end investment adviser, not the lover.
I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or annoyed.
The woman keyed open the door and waved me inside. As the door closed behind me, I paused and looked around. I’d half expected some sort of private boudoir, but it was actually set up as a plush but comfortable dining room. A mahogany table dominated the space but, oddly, there were only two chairs. Maybe dark sorcerers didn’t eat. Or maybe I wasn’t invited to eat. He might be taking the “behave yourself” request to a whole new level.
And that would definitely be annoying. I mean, just because I was angry that he’d forced intercourse one time to read my mind, that didn’t mean I never wanted to partake of his particular brand of loving again.
The scent of sex was heavier in the room than in the hallway outside, but it was oddly entwined with the sharpness of blood. I frowned and glanced toward the end of the roo Cnd he m, which seemed to be the source of the scents. The entire width of the wall was covered by heavy red velvet curtains. I was half tempted to walk over to see what they were hiding but resisted, and scanned the rest of the room instead. The remaining walls were paneled in dark wood, once again giving the impression of something you’d see in a gentlemen’s club. A bar dominated the other end of the room, and it was against this that Lucian leaned. He gave me a wide smile when my gaze met his, but it was his companion who caught my attention.