Read Online Tainted Blood (Hell's Belle Book 2) by Karen Greco - Free Book Online
Authors: Karen Greco
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Bertrand was behind his enormous desk, with Tavio sitting in his usual spot across from him, a marked up Daily Racing Form opened in front of him. A shockingly pale woman, her hair in long black dreadlocks, reclined on Bertrand's couch. She wore skintight black pleather pants and a tank top that was two sizes too small, cleavage spilling out. Her lazy eyes were rimmed with kohl liner, and her lips were painted garish red. They were slightly smeared, like she was at the tail end of a really good night out.
I hoped I wasn't related to her, too.
No bacon or coffee was anywhere to be found. I seethed silently at its absence. Maybe being a coffee-deprived grump would work in my favor.
Tavio, of course, was the first on his feet, crossing the room with vampire speed that was completely at odds with his stocky, old-man appearance. He rushed at me, arms outstretched, playing the ever-loving uncle. I swiftly lifted my hand in the internationally understood back-off signal, and he came to a dead stop.
"We are not that kind of family," I growled.
Keeping his distance, he nonetheless grinned and gestured us into the room. "Please, come in. Meet your cousin."
A slight young man, hidden from behind the languid woman on the couch, shot up, his jet-black, Morrissey-style emo hair spiked in twenty different directions. He rubbed sleep from his violet eyes, and glanced out the window.
"Is it time to go underground?" he croaked.
"Matteo, no, not yet," Tavio said. He looked slightly annoyed. "Your cousin, Nina, is here. Remember? You were going to meet her this morning."
"Underground? Why don't you do a little of your demonic mumbo jumbo so the poor man can daywalk?" Frankie asked, puzzled.
"Did you speak, vampire?" Bertrand drawled from behind his desk, his hands steepled under his strong chin.
My face flared and I glared at Bertrand. Demons considered vampires beneath them. Truthfully, they considered everyone beneath them.
I crossed my arms and scowled. "Frankie's got a very good point. Why didn't you jack him up with your demon mojo like Frankie and Tavio?"
Bertrand flashed a small, cold smile. "That's not for me to say."
Matteo yawned and gave a small wave and a broad smile, barely exposing his fangs. "Okay, hey, what's up? You're Nina? Yeah, hey, I don't wanna daywalk."
He sounded more like a stoner than a vampire. His accent was pure Chicago Midwest without a trace of the Italian that thickened his father's speech. I uncrossed my arms and stepped a bit closer, squinting to get a better look at him, fascinated by his ability to smile without flashing full-on fangs. Could he be...? No, no way.
Frankie's arm shot out in front of me, stopping me from moving any further forward. He shook his head slightly in their direction and mouthed "Beta" at me, and then shrugged. Guess Frankie didn't want to embarrass him.
I turned my focus away from Matteo's teeth to the broader scene on the couch. The woman in front of him sat bolt upright, her arms extended, effectively blocking Matteo from the rest of the room. I noticed she had a rattlesnake tattooed around her chest and back. The snake's tail ended on her neck. A slight rattle sound seemed to emanate from it as it shivered with vibration. That's when I noticed her eyes turn black.
My fangs pushed through my gums, and I curled my lips just enough to show them off. The rattle was a threat, and a bold one at that. I didn't like her.
"Whoa, ladies, relax," Matteo flopped back on the couch behind the snake charmer and rubbed her back. "You got a smoke, babe?"
"Are you security?" I eyed the woman up and down, flashing my fangs through my sneer.
She turned, placed a cigarette into Matteo’s mouth and lit it by blowing gently on it, a self-satisfied smile on her face as she reclined back on the couch again.
"Who's the freaky demon girlfriend, Bertrand?" I asked our demonic mayor, who grinned from behind the safety of his expensive cherry wood desk, clearly
Bertrand was behind his enormous desk, with Tavio sitting in his usual spot across from him, a marked up Daily Racing Form opened in front of him. A shockingly pale woman, her hair in long black dreadlocks, reclined on Bertrand's couch. She wore skintight black pleather pants and a tank top that was two sizes too small, cleavage spilling out. Her lazy eyes were rimmed with kohl liner, and her lips were painted garish red. They were slightly smeared, like she was at the tail end of a really good night out.
I hoped I wasn't related to her, too.
No bacon or coffee was anywhere to be found. I seethed silently at its absence. Maybe being a coffee-deprived grump would work in my favor.
Tavio, of course, was the first on his feet, crossing the room with vampire speed that was completely at odds with his stocky, old-man appearance. He rushed at me, arms outstretched, playing the ever-loving uncle. I swiftly lifted my hand in the internationally understood back-off signal, and he came to a dead stop.
"We are not that kind of family," I growled.
Keeping his distance, he nonetheless grinned and gestured us into the room. "Please, come in. Meet your cousin."
A slight young man, hidden from behind the languid woman on the couch, shot up, his jet-black, Morrissey-style emo hair spiked in twenty different directions. He rubbed sleep from his violet eyes, and glanced out the window.
"Is it time to go underground?" he croaked.
"Matteo, no, not yet," Tavio said. He looked slightly annoyed. "Your cousin, Nina, is here. Remember? You were going to meet her this morning."
"Underground? Why don't you do a little of your demonic mumbo jumbo so the poor man can daywalk?" Frankie asked, puzzled.
"Did you speak, vampire?" Bertrand drawled from behind his desk, his hands steepled under his strong chin.
My face flared and I glared at Bertrand. Demons considered vampires beneath them. Truthfully, they considered everyone beneath them.
I crossed my arms and scowled. "Frankie's got a very good point. Why didn't you jack him up with your demon mojo like Frankie and Tavio?"
Bertrand flashed a small, cold smile. "That's not for me to say."
Matteo yawned and gave a small wave and a broad smile, barely exposing his fangs. "Okay, hey, what's up? You're Nina? Yeah, hey, I don't wanna daywalk."
He sounded more like a stoner than a vampire. His accent was pure Chicago Midwest without a trace of the Italian that thickened his father's speech. I uncrossed my arms and stepped a bit closer, squinting to get a better look at him, fascinated by his ability to smile without flashing full-on fangs. Could he be...? No, no way.
Frankie's arm shot out in front of me, stopping me from moving any further forward. He shook his head slightly in their direction and mouthed "Beta" at me, and then shrugged. Guess Frankie didn't want to embarrass him.
I turned my focus away from Matteo's teeth to the broader scene on the couch. The woman in front of him sat bolt upright, her arms extended, effectively blocking Matteo from the rest of the room. I noticed she had a rattlesnake tattooed around her chest and back. The snake's tail ended on her neck. A slight rattle sound seemed to emanate from it as it shivered with vibration. That's when I noticed her eyes turn black.
My fangs pushed through my gums, and I curled my lips just enough to show them off. The rattle was a threat, and a bold one at that. I didn't like her.
"Whoa, ladies, relax," Matteo flopped back on the couch behind the snake charmer and rubbed her back. "You got a smoke, babe?"
"Are you security?" I eyed the woman up and down, flashing my fangs through my sneer.
She turned, placed a cigarette into Matteo’s mouth and lit it by blowing gently on it, a self-satisfied smile on her face as she reclined back on the couch again.
"Who's the freaky demon girlfriend, Bertrand?" I asked our demonic mayor, who grinned from behind the safety of his expensive cherry wood desk, clearly
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