Happily Never After: Night Huntress 2.5 by Jeaniene Frost

Author:Jeaniene Frost
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-07-10T22:47:45+00:00

Chapter 6

Chance watched the men below him. The Salucci brothers seemed to be pretending to be Joe Pesci in Casino. All bada-boom, bada-bings, and just looking for ways to get insulted. Robert, surprisingly enough, conducted himself with more finesse, though he also seemed to be doing a bad acting job. Any moment now, Chance was sure Robert would lower his voice to a scratchy whisper and make the Salucci brothers an offer they couldn't refuse.

Chance had been around enough genuinely frightening people to know all this bluster and showboating for the camouflage it was.

When someone was truly deadly, human or otherwise, he or she didn't waste time trying to convince people about it. No, he or she just killed everyone around them who had a dissenting opinion. That's why you'll always be a bridesmaid and never a bride, Chance thought while looking at Robert. You think if you kill a few people, bribe a few cops, dress in Armani suits and have a cookie-cutter Italian wife, the real mafia will welcome you into their fold. But you're wrong. They can smell a poser almost as well as I can smell my next dinner.

Still, at least this grandiose dick-measuring contest between the Salucci brothers and Robert afforded Chance an easier way of grabbing him. Robert had even picked the Penn station docks along the Delaware River at midnight for their powwow. The clichés were so thick, Chance was almost choking on them.

"You're makin' a mistake," the older Salucci brother told Robert before he turned with a dramatic swirl of his trench coat. He stalked off, his younger brother and bodyguard in tow. They got into the black Bentley that had been running the entire time, and the driver peeled off with a squeal of tires.

"Finally," Chance muttered. He gave Paul's jugular a caressing glance. Paul had eaten about a dozen doughnuts before this meeting, Chance knew, because the heavy smell of fried sugary goodness wafted up to him even from his light pole perch. Chance licked his lips. Mmm, dinner and dessert, all at the same time.

Chance dropped down from the tall broken streetlight. It never ceased to amaze him how some humans could be so oblivious to their environment—especially ones who prided themselves on being cunning. If Robert, Paul, or Ritchie had even once looked up, they would have noted that the south street light was significantly taller than the ones around it. They might not have been able to see what—or who—was perched on it in the darkness, but they could have realized that something was there.

Instead, they just gaped at him when he appeared behind them with nothing more than a faint rush of wind to announce him.

"Nice night, isn't it?" Chance remarked.

Robert was the first to recover. His hand slid inside his jacket and he pulled out his gun.

"Yeah, it is. Paul, Ritchie? You gonna stand there, or are you gonna pull your pieces and maybe point them at this asshole?"

Chance watched with amusement as they scrambled to obey, replacing their formerly amazed expressions with tough ones.

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