Free Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) by Patricia A. Rasey Page A

mobster, are you?”
    She didn’t hide from the accusation meant as a joke. Instead, she looked him in the eye, her icy gaze holding his captive and answering his question.
    Seriously?
    Ah hell, what did he really care who her relatives were as long as she followed him up the stairs. Damn, he wanted to fuck this one in the worst way.
    “My father’s father was a brother. They were in the family business together. My father took over when my great Uncle John died. I was never a part of it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
    What the hell. He only lived once. Why not live dangerously? After all, he was already in bed with the cartel. Add to that, fucking a mobster’s daughter. How much more trouble could he possibly get into? Draven noted the five stainless rings piercing each of her ears, three in the lower lobes and two higher up in the cartilage, making him ponder over the possibility she might have hidden ones. The pressure on the front of his already tight jeans increased. He couldn’t help wonder what she might think of his Prince Albert , the ring piercing his penis.
    “What can I do for you, doll?” Her blue eyes rimmed black. His term of endearment apparently didn’t set well. “You’d prefer sweetheart?”
    “Neither, if you must know. Look … Draven, I’m not here looking to get laid.”
    “My loss.” Blunt and to the point. He liked that about her. Draven leaned back against the counter behind the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. “Want to tell me why you’re here at closing and why I shouldn’t just see you to the door?”
    She blew out an unsteady breath. Something bothered her. He hadn’t noticed the trembling of her hands until now. Her arrival had actually taken the edge off his own case of nerves.
    “I’m looking for someone. He didn’t come home tonight when he said he’d be early.”
    Draven shrugged. “Guys lie all the time.”
    “Not this one … not to me.”
    “What makes you so sure?”
    Brea worried her lip. He could tell she harbored secrets and warred with how much to reveal.
    Leaning forward again, he braced his hands on the bar. “Look, Brea, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me who you’re looking for. You’re the one who sought me out, so obviously you think I can help.”
    “Joseph Sala.” Moisture gathered in her eyes. “People call him Kinky.”
    Her admission damn near knocked the breath right out of him. “How do you know Kinky?”
    “You’re the one who provides donors for the vampires, correct?”
    Damn, she knew more than she should for someone not a part of the society of women he recruited. “You want to tell me how you know about them?”
    “Joseph told me if I were ever to get into trouble, I needed to come find you. That you would take care of me. He trusted you.”
    “I’m not anyone’s babysitter. Not even someone as smokin’ hot as you, sweetheart.”
    “I don’t need a babysitter.”
    Her gaze narrowed and her irises turned black. Shit! An illusion due to the low lighting to be sure. Only vampire’s eyes became obsidian in appearance. “So what do you want from me?”
    “Tell me where I can find Joseph and I’ll be on my way. He told me he was coming here. Did he go to the clubhouse?”
    Draven grimaced. “You could say that.”
    “What do you mean? He’s either there or he’s not.” She narrowed her gaze. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it. What’s happened, Draven?”
    “You might want to take a seat first.”
    “Tell me.” Her voice shook.
    “Sweetheart, before I tell you anything, I need to know how you knew Joseph.”
    “You can’t tell anyone.” Her slender legs had appeared ready to give out. She pulled out a stool and sat. When Draven nodded, she continued, “Joseph Sala is my mate.”
    “You’re a vampire.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. Her eyes had given her away, even if he had at first refused to see it.
    She leaned forward, placing her chin onto her palms, her elbows atop