Free Domiel by Dawn McClure

Even without the wicked pupils, his eyes were golden, and that in itself was arresting. “She said she’d call me, and if you know anything about Alexia you’d know she keeps her word. She’d die attempting to make this call. Or kill someone to dial the digits. Likely the latter.”
    The club was dark, smoky, and loud, just like she remembered it. The patrons were decked out in gothic garb complete with fake fangs, fake blood, and the occasional cape. The music hit on beats that went straight through her body, as if the sound cradled her heart and pounded on it like a set of drums.
    She had a lot of memories in this club. Been in a few bar fights with the locals. Jade had been kicked out, but not before she’d planted her fist in the eye of a guy who had dared to grab her ass.
    This time around Kelsey didn’t quite fit in. Black wool turtleneck sweater and pleated black slacks. Not exactly club wear, but she was on a mission to beat all missions. After connecting to Ambrose she’d been emotionally spent. It wasn’t every day that your family put a hit out on you. Putting things in perspective had been difficult, even heartbreaking, and she wasn’t sure she’d done it yet, because as many times as she’d tried to convince herself Ambrose was being misled, the simple fact remained that he’d marked her as a vic.
    Domiel slipped his wallet back into his back pocket after paying their fees. “You know Ambrose can read the thoughts of others. If you are innocent of the crimes, he should be able to see that. Why didn’t you just go to him and let him read your mind?”
    Because she had secrets she would never share with another immortal. Not with Jade. Not with Lexie. Not with anyone. “My powers revolve around thoughts and mind tricks, so he’d never get the truth out of me if I didn’t want him to know. He’s aware of that.”
    They managed to push through the crowd and arrive at the bar. She leaned over the countertop. “I’ll have a vodka sour,” she said in French.
    The bartender snatched a bottle from the rows of alcohol and expertly poured a shot and a half into a small, plastic cup filled with ice. After he’d poured in the sour mix, he glanced up at her, and his face split in a grin—complete with fake fangs. “Kels! How’s the tat pack doing? Is Jade here?”
    Jade had always been Rick’s favorite. She was everyone’s favorite. “She’s back in Scotland. I’ll tell her you said hi.”
    Kelsey wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure Jade had given Rick more than a monetary tip. For a human he wasn’t bad. Short, spiked brown hair, tanned and muscular. If he took out the fangs he wouldn’t look Goth at all, which was a plus for his day job. He was a business man of some sort. Liked to party, though.
    Rick glanced at Domiel as he handed her the drink. His gaze shifted back to hers. “How long are you in the city?”
    Hopefully not long. “Not sure yet,” she answered honestly.
    Rick suddenly grew serious. “No bar fights. The crowd is pretty low key tonight.”
    Another time, another place, she wanted to say. She smiled, but made no promises. She waited patiently as Domiel ordered a beer, glancing around the club and wishing Jade and Lexie were with her. Back when things hadn’t been so complicated, when they’d been single and flirtatious. When all Kelsey had to battle were vics and her own dark memories.
    He paid the bill, then put a palm against her lower back and gave her a nudge toward one of the dark corners of the bar. “So how is this going to work? She’s going to call the club asking for you?”
    The small conversation with Rick had her thinking about simpler times. She took a deep breath and pushed those memories away. “No. There’s a pay phone in the back by the bathrooms. Problem is, I have no idea when she’s going to call.”
    Domiel was leading her straight to her old stomping grounds. Close enough to the back doors should they need to make a quick exit, and close