* * *
Jenner tossed back his drink with a scowl. Siobhan was supposed to be leading them to Gregor, but all she’d managed to do so far was ask a few random, useless questions. Finding the berserker had taken a backseat to a more important quest: finding Ronan. Jesus fucking Christ.
Not only was Siobhan wasting Mikhail’s time; she was also wasting Jenner’s. Sunrise was a good six hours away and he didn’t want to spend it following her all over the gods-damned city. His throat burned with thirst and his body ached with the need to fuck. If he didn’t find a female to service him soon, he was going to crawl right out of his fucking skin. But until the would-be dhampir queen exhausted her efforts for the evening, Jenner was obligated to keep an eye on her.
“You’re wound tight as a spring, Jenner. What’s the matter? Has soullessness got you down?”
The pain-in-the-ass female in question sauntered up to him with feline grace, a wry smile painted on her dark red lips. She made no secret of her disdain for vampire-kind, and Jenner refused to take the bait.
“What do you want, Siobhan? I’m busy.”
“Yes,” she said with a sneer. “You certainly look it.”
He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her haughty bullshit tonight. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a female with short blond hair and a pert ass that was barely concealed by the skirt that skimmed her upper thighs. Easy access and less time wasted getting undressed. Their eyes met and she smiled. Promising …
“How is it that Ronan has suddenly vanished into thin air?” Her tone rang with accusation and Jenner tried hard not to roll his eyes. The female had a one-track fucking mind. “He’s not answering his phone, and no one seems to be very forthcoming in providing his whereabouts.”
Ronan hiked an unconcerned shoulder, his gaze still locked on the blonde at the far end of the club. “Did it occur to you that maybe no one actually knows?”
Siobhan’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
The blonde’s fingers flirted with the hair that brushed the back of her neck. Her eyebrows rose in question over brilliant blue eyes as she inclined her head toward the back of the club where the restrooms were. An invitation? Jenner gave a nod of his head. Hell fucking yeah.
“Where is he, Jenner?”
He dragged his attention back to Siobhan and let out a sigh. “No fucking clue.” That was the truth, too. He suspected that Mikhail knew, but if he did, he wasn’t letting the cat out of the bag.
Siobhan studied Jenner, her nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly as she scented the air. She’d know he spoke the truth and he hoped she’d leave him the hell alone and go back to her coven for the rest of the night. Because he had better shit to do than follow her around.
“Don’t forget who pulled you out of the gutter and gave you a home, Jenner. You owe me at least some small amount of allegiance. He’ll check in with you if he’s at all concerned about keeping his business afloat. I want to know when he does.”
It was true that Siobhan had given Jenner shelter when he’d had none. Station when he deserved none. And yes, the female had introduced him to Ronan and Jenner’s relationship with the male had changed his life. But Jenner had sworn an oath to his king. No amount of past loyalty would sway him from that.
“I suspect that Ronan will call when he’s damned good and ready,” Jenner remarked. “Not much I can do about it, though.”
“You know that I treat my friends well. But my enemies get exactly what they deserve.”
If she thought idle threats would spur him into action, she was mistaken. “Everyone knows that, Siobhan.”
She smiled as though it pleased her to have her reputation confirmed. “And in the interest of friendship…” Her gaze roamed to the back corner of the club. “There’s a werewolf on the prowl. I’m not sure if he’s following me or you. I just thought you should know.”
Jenner thought he’d smelled wet dog. The male watched them with interest from his shadowy corner, his posture relaxed. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
With their many loose ends currently dangling in the wind, it was hard telling what the werewolf might be after. The Sortiari’s reemergence in the city had stirred up a hornet’s nest of activity. Mikhail would want to know about it no matter who the male was tracking. Werewolves were territorial. Even more so than vampires. If a pack had moved into the city, it could have some political impact. If the male was a rogue—meaning he had no pack—it could be even worse.
Males without allegiance were dangerous no matter their creed.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Jenner said. “And my ear to the ground.”