Forbidden Feast by Joelle Sterling

Author:Joelle Sterling [Sterling, Joelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strebor Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Not a man to throw around good money, Bradley M. Jones hated having to come out of pocket to pay for a limo ride for the mayor. But he supposed he should count his blessings. Arranging for a limo service was a lot easier than getting Elson on the phone. He was on hold for an eternity, all the while praying that Elson would not impulsively send his crew of deadly vampires after Tessa. Though he’d warned Nicole to lock the doors, arm the alarm system, and hide Tessa in the attic, he doubted if ordinary security measures would deter a determined and deranged vampire like Chaos. He knew for certain that Chaos could scale walls, and he was probably proficient at picking locks. There was no doubt that the fiend could sniff out Tessa’s hiding place in a hot minute.

Yes, paying for the limo was a small price.

Giving the limo the thumbs-up sign, the mayor, reeking of alcohol, joined Bradley in the back. After examining the minibar, his mouth turned down. “What’s with the economy-priced liquor. Your Arab guy gets a strike against him for stocking the bar with cheap alcohol.”

“He’s not an Arab; he’s in business with them,” Bradley said, sticking to the story he’d devised.

“Whatever.” The mayor reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a flask. “I brought the good stuff with me. Good thing I’m always prepared.” The limo glided toward the highway, and Ringwood glanced out the tinted window. “Where’s he staying— The Atwell Hotel or is he leasing a swanky place outside of town?”

“We’re going downtown to meet him.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Ringwood said, turning the flask up to his lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and began muttering angrily to himself.

“Are you okay?” Bradley asked.

“You can ask me that question after my rendezvous with the high-class hooker.”

Bradley frowned in confusion.

“I asked for an escort from one of those pricey agencies,” Ringwood clarified.

“Oh, right . . . right.”

“The rich guy is taking care of that, isn’t he?”

This moron has got to be kidding me! “Yes, I informed him that you were interested in a date that resembled the meteorologist on channel six, and his assistant is taking care of it—absolutely.”

“I’m getting a boner just thinking about that weather-fore-casting broad,” Ringwood exclaimed and took another swig from his flask.

Jesus! What a creep! Dealing with Ringwood was like trying to placate a petulant child. Bradley and the mayor had been casual acquaintances for several years, and though he’d heard about the man’s drinking problem, he’d never realized that Ringwood was such an extremely obnoxious individual.

Luckily, when the limo turned down the raunchy side street that led to the back entrance of The Lilac, Ringwood wasn’t paying any attention. Deep in thought, his eyes were closed as he sipped aged scotch. His mind, no doubt, was occupied with forbidden fantasies of him and the weather girl.

The driver pulled up to the curb in front of The Lilac, and Ringwood’s eyes popped open.

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