Patrick glanced back at Darius. “You two look as though you want time alone to catch up. I’m going to run across the street and visit with the owner to schedule another reservation. You were right about the linguini. Wait for me outside; that wasn’t enough time for us to get reacquainted, so I’m inviting you to my place for drinks. No arguments.” He turned on his heel and bowed to me. “It was a pleasure, Miss…”
“Black,” I answered.
“Patrick Bane, at your service. Perhaps we’ll meet again. Good day to you.”
He left the shop and walked briskly across the street, leaving Darius staring daggers at me.
I stood up and approached him, hands in my pockets.
“At last we meet,” he said, his tone layered with irritation and contempt. “One of my men told me that you roughed him up in the bathroom and had him arrested. You fabricated lies about him and risked exposing our secrets to humans. I could have you arrested for slander.”
I lifted a toothpick with a cookie sample on the end and took a bite. “Something tells me you won’t. Even if you did, you can’t prove anything. I didn’t make any statements, and your man is less than reliable.”
“Is there something you want?”
I shrugged nonchalantly and set the toothpick on the counter. “I just happened to be sitting over there when I recognized your voice. Thought I’d say hello. There’s nothing I want; your friend in the bathroom just caught me on a bad day when I wanted to be left alone.”
His expression went rigid.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I certainly didn’t expect what happened next.
Darius leaned in close, his voice a cold whisper. “I’m going to kill you.”
With a mirthless smile, I lifted another sample from the tray and ate it. “You’re a funny guy, Darius. Chances are you’ll send one of your goons after me. If that’s the case, can I put in a request for your bathroom buddy? I have a score to settle with him.”
“If you couldn’t finish off Salvator, what makes you think I’m quaking in my boots?”
I poked him in the chest with the toothpick, and he flinched. “Did one of your guards go missing recently?”
He stared for a frozen moment, unblinking.
I tucked my dirty toothpick in his coat pocket and patted it with my hand. “Don’t make empty threats you don’t mean to carry out yourself.”
Darius slowly inclined his head, moving around me. Before he passed, he bent down and whispered in my ear. “Did one of your Vampires go missing lately?”
I blanched and quickly looked up.
His dark eyes sparkled with interest. “I wasn’t sure at first. Thanks for the confirmation. Shame,” he added, implying the Vampire was dead.
I turned on my heel as he went out the door.
A bluff. It had to be.
Wyatt all but flew out of his seat, his chair knocking over. “You’re Dirty Harry! The whole toothpick in the pocket… man.” He threw his head back. “That was classic.”
Darius and his men drifted out of sight, leaving behind Patrick’s guard and the little boy.
I approached the window and peered out. “Should we go after him?”
“Not in the daylight,” Shepherd cautioned. “Take a seat until the rest of the party leaves.”
I sat across from him, Wyatt and Blue joining us and facing the window.
Wyatt hooked his arms over the back of his chair. “Do you know who that guy is?”
“Darius,” I said, unimpressed.
“No,” he said, lazily lifting his hand to point at the restaurant. “That guy. His last name is Bane.”
“One of Darius’s Mage brothers. So?”
Wyatt shook his head. “I discovered a record this morning that lists the original owner of that land. It was Patrick Bane, Mr. Irish Wonderful over there. He’s Darius’s Creator and also happens to be a member of the higher authority.”
Blue touched one of her earlobes as if searching for the feather earring she wasn’t wearing. “Do you think he knows what Darius is up to?”
“Bet he doesn’t have a clue,” Shepherd said. “That poor bastard is in for a rude awakening if this thing blows up.”
Wyatt pulled his hat down so that it covered his ears. His brows angled. “Do you think Darius is a Creator?”
Shepherd scratched his jaw. “There’s always the chance. So what if he is?”
“Because the last thing we need is a legion of Learners coming after our ass for killing their father. Didn’t you see The Princess Bride?”
Blue smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Wyatt rubbed his nose. “Even still, now his Creator’s in the picture. Going after Darius is like going after Patrick, and you know how the Mageri protects its own.”
“Fuck me,” Shepherd grumbled, glaring at Wyatt. “Don’t you have anything positive to say?”
“I bought you a brownie.”
The boy outside slapped his hand against the glass, holding it there. He did it again, a pout on his face and blue eyes glittering behind the black Zorro mask.
“Poor kid,” Shepherd said. “Bet that bastard doesn’t give him the cupcake.”
Wyatt chortled. “Careful, Shepherd. People might actually think the Tin Man has a heart.”
Shepherd placed his palm on the window, eclipsing the tiny hand. The boy smiled wide, his cheeks ruddy.