On Midnight Wings

Silver gave the buzzing, restless crowd a long look, then returned his attention to Giovanni. Was he ally or smooth-talking foe? Should he trust him or stake his ass? There was no one Silver could ask. Von was out of commission and missing and Lucien was silent in Gehenna. This time, he was on his own.

“C’mon, then,” Silver said. He started across the street for Aunt Sally’s Tavern & Heavenly BBQ without waiting for an answer.

He knew Giovanni would follow.

33 NIGHTKIND AND CATS

THE TANGY AROMA OF honey-and-whiskey-barbecued pork ribs permeated the air inside Aunt Sally’s Tavern & Heavenly BBQ, thick enough to taste, alongside the buttery smells of skillet-fried corn bread and dark, foamy beer.

Annie and Merri had grabbed a booth near the rear of the tavern, probably the only one available, given the surprising late night crowd. Sliding in beside Annie, Silver made introductions as Giovanni sat beside Merri with a murmured, “Bella.”

Merri gave him a cool, professional once-over, her dark eyes drinking in details Silver suspected he would’ve—and probably had—missed. “Look like you could use a drink,” she said, handing him her half empty bottle of Dixie Crimson Voodoo Ale. “Rough night?”

Giovanni slanted a wry glance at Silver before returning his attention to Merri. “Sì. But it’s starting to improve,” he said, raising the moisture-beaded bottle to his lips and taking a long, grateful swallow.

“Go on and finish it,” Merri said. She pulled a pack of Djarum Black from her jacket pocket. “I’m going outside for a smoke.”

Giovanni scooted out of the booth, denim squeaking against vinyl, and stood so Merri could slide out and leave. Once she had, he sat back down again.

“Okay. So spill—” Silver began, only to be interrupted by a cheery female voice.

“Here’s your pork special, sugar,” the waitress said, resting a heaping platter of sauce-slathered ribs, collard greens, and corn bread in front of Annie. The aroma—spicy and sweet and savory—filled the booth. “Anyone else need anything? More beer? You fellas need menus?”

“No menus, thanks,” Silver said, “Just a round of Abita Amber.”

“You got it, sugar.” With a wink, the caramel-skinned waitress sashayed away. Once their beer had been delivered in frosted mugs, Silver looked at Giovanni. “One more time,” he said. “Your inside source—the one working for Dante. Spill.”

“She’s an SB agent,” Giovanni replied, voice low. “And my sister. Caterina Cortini.”

“Shit, you’re that assassin chick’s brother?” Annie said, eyes wide with surprise. “She mentioned that her mother was nightkind, but I didn’t realize that her entire family was too. She never said a fucking word about that.”

Giovanni shrugged. “Why would she? She was adopted into a vampire household as a toddler. For her, it is the norm and not worth mentioning.”

Silver glanced at Annie. “The chick you told me about, right? The one in Oregon, at the motel?”

“That’s the one,” Annie confirmed. She tucked her napkin into the front of her tee, grabbed a sauced-up rib and tore into it with her teeth, making happy little humming sounds as she chewed.

“So who sent you to offer Dante help?” Silver lifted his mug to his mouth and took a long swallow of the smooth, malty brew. Hunger nudged him like an elbow to the gut, reminding him that he needed to feed.

“The high priestess of the Cercle de Druide,” Giovanni replied. “Renata Alessa Cortini—my mère de sang. I’m to offer Dante support and guidance and protection from those who would use him.”

Silver snorted. “Yeah, and that’d be everyone—from those ass kissers gathering across the street, to the Fallen, to the average mortal Joe—once they find out what you already know, that Dante’s a Maker.”

Giovanni flashed a pointed glance at Silver from beneath his dark lashes, before his gaze flickered over to Annie. His tone was light, despite the warning seeded within his words. “I don’t believe this is information a mortal should be privy to.”

“Too late, asshole, this little mortal’s been all privvied up,” Annie said, her voice even despite the irritation scorching the sweetness from her scent of vanilla, lavender soap, and nicotine. “My sister’s Dante’s girlfriend, so, yeah, I know what he is. And he scares the holy living shit out of me. You should be scared too. I’ve seen him knock fallen angels from the fucking sky and turn them to fucking stone.”

“Where is your sister, bella? And Dante?” Giovanni said, leaning across the table, his pale face lit with a predatory curiosity. “We thought perhaps that Dante and his household had gone underground following the rumored shootout and the very real club fire. But why would your sister leave you behind?” He flicked a look at Silver. “Or Dante, you?”

“Heather and Gorgeous-but-Deadly are out and about,” Annie returned, not even blinking. “No one’s been left behind. And as for street rumors or rumors of any kind, dude, never listen.”