The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) by Travis Luedke Read Free Book Online Page B

the
back door for Mike, Reza had caught a glimpse of a middle-aged blonde woman
waiting for him.
    Seemed Mike had his next victim lined up already.  If they
didn’t find him soon, that woman would end up dead in the slush-covered street,
shy a few pints of blood.
    Aaron led the way out with Ivan right behind him.  “Let’s
go.  I got what I came for.”
    They headed down the hallway and out into the strip club.  A
dull haze of stale cigarette smoke assaulted them as they made their way to the
women.  Reza was talking another stubble-headed Albanian man standing behind
the bar, a heated exchange.  Reza glanced back at Aaron and Ivan repeatedly.
    The bartender said something and nodded at the back of the
building towards the private dance rooms, and the rear exit.  Reza took off at a
fast clip.
    Shit .
    The bartender had seen Janette pass that way seconds
earlier, with her suitcase.  Aaron caught it all from the bartender’s mind and
decided it was time to get involved.
    Urvashi grabbed Aaron’s arm.  “Don’t.  Leave it be.”  She
was always siphoning off his emotions, using their bond to intuit his thoughts,
even when he tried to block her out of his mind.
    Though he knew it was foolish, he couldn’t leave it be.  His
actions had put Janette in danger.  It was on his shoulders.  Just like Michael
Jamison was his responsibility.
    He slid Urvashi’s hand from his arm and pecked her on the
cheek.  “I’ll be back in few minutes.  Have another lap dance while you wait.”
    He took off, walking as fast as he could without attracting
too much of the wrong kind of attention.  Vampires move unnaturally fast. 
People notice that kind of thing.
    In the dark recesses of the back rooms, he headed for the
red exit sign, moving at a full jog now.  Out the door and into the freezing
wet, graffiti-covered alley, he found them both.  Reza had pinned Janette by
the throat against a slimy brick wall, her suitcase lying in the dirty slush. 
He reached behind him for the knife tucked in his belt.
    “Twasn’t me, I swear!”  She choked out the words.  Mascara
ran down her face in dirty streaks, and her wool coat was open, exposing naked
breasts.  In her rush to escape, she hadn’t even dressed properly.
    “Lying bitch!”  He was an inch from shoving that blade
between her legs when Aaron snatched his forearm in a wicked, clawed grip.
    Aaron’s talons punctured through jacket and into fleshy
muscle.  “You should have taken the money,” Aaron growled as he wrenched Reza’s
arm away from Janette, twisting up and back at the wrong angle.
    “Fucking wanker!”  Reza cried out at the crunchy, gristle-snapping
sound of his dislocated shoulder, and the knife fell from is hand.
    Aaron pivoted and tossed Reza across the alley to land in a
cussing grunt of pain.  He turned back to Janette who was staring at him, jaw
agape.  “Get your bag and go.  Stay the hell out of Soho.  Better yet, get out
of London.”
    Whimpering in relief, shocked, terrified, she did exactly as
he ordered, scooping her bag off the snowy street.  She backed up slowly, her
fear now redirected to Aaron.
    Stupid woman .  “Go already!”
    With a startled jump she took off running.  She didn’t even
try to make the wheels of her suitcase work, dragging the hard, red case as
fast as her three inch plastic heels would allow in the snow-rutted, uneven
brick surface.   Finally.
    “You can run bitch, but I’ll find ya!”  Reza regained his
feet, but his right arm dangled uselessly.  He squinted at Aaron in pain and
fury.  “You nancy bastard, don’t you know who I am?”  He felt his shoulder
gingerly, trying to figure out why his arm wasn’t working right.  “Keljmendi
clan, and you’re right royal fucked.”
    “I don’t give a shit who you are.”  Aaron considered what to
do with him.  He was tired of killing.  He had more than his fill of killing in
Las Vegas and New York.
    Reza reached into his jacket with his