Blood and Roses

Chapter 12

Rosalia

"I can't believe you made me wear this," I said, pulling up the strapless black thigh-length dress. The cold metal of a dagger pressed against my thigh, but no one could've paid me a million dollars to walk around like this daily. There was a reason I wore short shorts and cropped shirts--because they were efficient for fighting.

"Patience, my love," Wren said, holding out his arm. He looked sexy in his suit, a deadly gleam in his eyes that I hadn't seen in awhile. Still, there was no denying I liked him better this way. Part of the reason I'd fallen for Wren in the first place was the fact he was a total badass.

I took his arm, "This doesn't mean that I'm going to dress like this now."

"Relax," Wren said. "Trust me."

With that, we strode up to the club bouncer. Against the backdrop of the rundown and abandoned street, the club's lights might as well have been a rave.

The bouncer's eyes hesitated on me. No doubt he saw the expensive necklace I was wearing and the curve of my breasts beneath my dress. With my kick ass heels, there was no denying that I looked like a proper club goer.

A moment later, the bouncer inclined his head and Wren tightened his grip on my arm, guiding me inside.

Once inside the club, I was able to take in the sights. After so long of avoiding clubs, the shock of hundreds of people pressed against each other while a deejay played music loud enough to shake the floor was incredible. Lights wove around the room, changing colors and illuminating people's faces in a way that almost made them seem inhuman. The faint smell of sweat and cigarette smoke hung in the air, masked by the even more powerful smell of alcohol.

It was hard not to draw the comparison of this club to that of the one I'd first found Kane in, killing Forsaken on his own. Maybe if I'd honored his request to join the fray against the Devil's Kingdom at the time he wouldn't have turned against me in a heartbeat for what Anarchy had to offer.

Kane. I still couldn't believe he'd sold me out. I'd grown to trust him over the years.

Wren tugged my arm softly, walking over to a man sitting at the bar drinking a shot of vodka. His back was turned to us.

"How can I help you, sir?" the bartender said, spotting Wren and hurrying over to him. Wren took his seat on the barstool, holding me on his lap as though it was completely natural. If the bartender or the other people at the bar thought there was anything unnatural about the way that Wren behaved, they didn't let it on.

"One shot of whiskey," Wren said, lighting a cigarette.

Just like that, whatever Forsaken part of Wren had taken over.

"You shouldn't be here," the man on the other side of Wren said.

"You seem to have forgotten that I'm the one who won you a seat at this table."

"That was years ago. Things have changed."

With that, he shot a look at me, "Who's the girl?"

Careful, Wren whispered into my mind. His thoughts were fluid, changing with the lights overhead.

"No one of consequence," I said.

The light shone on my face in that instant. He could see it--bathed in the green light from above, the tattoos on my neck and collarbone glowed.

The man reacted the way anyone would upon discovering that he was sitting next to the leader of the Alliance of Assassins. Disregarding the eyes of everyone around him, he rose from the bar stool without paying and ran for the door.