Read Online Grave Matters: A Night Owls Novel by Lauren M. Roy - Free Book Online Page B

it. He waved a hand. “We’ll give them their meeting.”
    “We . . . What?” Katya twisted around to face her boss. “Why would we do that?”
    He sat back, leather creaking as he sank into the chair’s lush padding. “Because for all its population, Boston is a small city geographically speaking. And South Boston an even smaller part of that. There is room for us all.”
    “You can’t mean that,” said the blonde. “It’s not how things are done.”
    Perhaps Katya was allowed to question Ivanov, but he wasn’t having it from this other woman. “Dunyasha,” he said, his tone that of a father disappointed in his child. Elly’d picked up a smattering of Russian over the last few weeks, mostly swears. She knew a diminutive when she heard one, but all the sweetness went out of it when it was a centuries-old vampire saying it like you’d let him down.
    Dunyasha—Elly had no idea what name it was derived from—took the hint and shut up.
    “We’ll see what they want, how much, when. And if they’ll agree to our conditions, perhaps we can work with them.”
    “What conditions are those?” asked Katya.
    “That, I need time to consider. First we see if they’re even willing to talk, or if they merely wish to
take
. If it’s the latter . . .” He shrugged. “Then we teach them to mind their manners. I trust that’s a lesson you can impart, my dear.” He leaned forward again and ran one long finger beneath the chain of Katya’s bracelet. The sound of fangs rattling was loud in the quiet room. “Go to them tonight. I see no reason to delay. Take Elly with you. And Theo.” As he named the last, his gaze flicked to the blonde.
    He’s daring her to argue.
She didn’t, though she patted Theo’s hand. If the jewel-encrusted rings adorning her fingers were real and not colored glass, this woman had some serious money.
    Elly could suss out things about the woman by what she wore and what she said. But the nuances of interactions with other people? She’d spent her formative years learning the habits of monsters rather than people; Elly didn’t know quite what meaning to read into that pat. Reassurance? Concern? Was Dunyasha Theo’s lover? His maker? She tucked the woman’s name away for later. Maybe Val would recognize it.
    *   *   *
    E LLY ATE A solitary dinner up at the front while the vampires talked other business. Ivanov’s bar lacked a kitchen, so they’d struck up a relationship with the sub shop across the street. Patrons were welcome to bring food in, as long as they were drinking. Elly wasn’t, but she was crew. It amounted to about the same. She felt a little guilty wolfing down her steak and cheese, imagining Cavale back at home wrestling with a recipe.
I’ll be hungry again when I get home. I can at least try a few bites.
    Wary as she was of Katya, it was a relief when the
Stregoi
woman came to find her and told her—with a shove on the shoulder—it was time to go. Theo, following in her wake, gave Elly an apologetic smile.
    They’d barely gone ten feet from the door when Katya pulled up short. “I’m going ahead,” she told them. “I can scout around without those pups seeing me.” She didn’t wait for acknowledgment, blurring away before either Elly or Theo could react.
    “Perks of bein’ fuckin’ ancient,” Theo muttered.
    “You can’t do that yet?” Asking a vampire their age was a bit of a faux pas, despite the fact most of them seemed to want you to be impressed by their longevity. Many of them dropped names to give it away:
“So I said, ‘Mr. Roosevelt—’ Teddy, this was, I said . . .”
Sometimes they gave away the
when
of their making by their idioms or their style. “Working-class guy from Southie” could have put Theo’s creation anywhere within the last half century, but Elly had heard enough gossip to know he’d been turned sometime in the mid-aughts. The degree of his abilities interested her. Justin could move scary-fast, sure, and