Hell's Bell (Lizzie Grace 2)

I gripped his hand briefly and said, “The bastard who tried to kill Aiden and me over on the Marin compound.”

“Well, that was daft.” He walked over to Bryan, roughly hauled him to his feet, and then sliced off the cable tie. “I’ll get you to go down the ladder first, Lizzie. That way, you can zap him or something if he tries anything stupid.”

A smile touched my lips. “With pleasure.”

I headed back across the rooftops. As it turned out, Bryan wasn’t daft enough to attempt an escape. Once his hands were re-cabled, Bryan hauled him over to the waiting SUV while I returned to our café.

To discover it wasn’t just the roof that had a hole in it, but part of the corner wall. I walked over to Belle and wrapped my arms around her. For several minutes, neither of us talked. We just took comfort in the fact we were both still alive.

“So how bad is it?” I said event

ually.

“It looks worse than it is, I’m assured. Despite the hole, the two walls are stable. They’ve asked the State Emergency Services people to come over with a tarp to cover the gap until we can get it fixed.” She glanced at her watch. “They should be here within the next half hour.”

“And the damage inside?”

“I’m told the stairs and upstairs kitchenette will need replacing, and the electrics will have to be checked, but that’s it. The café hasn’t suffered any damage; it just needs a good clean and airing to get rid of the smoke smell. We’re lucky Ashworth was able to put the fire out, otherwise, it could have been far worse.”

“At least once everything’s been checked, and the building declared safe, we can open the café again.”

“Yeah. I’d hate to be losing too many days—not this close to Christmas.” She glanced at me. “What do you want to do next?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “As much as I want to do nothing more than go to Aiden’s and collapse onto the nearest bed, I think we need to detour past Maelle’s and update her.”

She sighed. “Not something I really want to do right now, but I agree with the need to avoid antagonizing her. I’ve already called a cab.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do they actually work at this hour of the morning? We’re not exactly in the middle of a major city.”

“Apparently it has only happened since Émigré opened all night. And that,” she added, as a car horn tooted out the front of the building, “will be him.”

“Should we give our contact details to anyone?” I said, as I followed her down the lane.

“Already have,” she said, over her shoulder. “And the firies will lock up when they’ve finished.”

It didn’t take long to get around to the club. Once I’d paid the cabbie, we climbed out and headed for the door. Two large bouncers immediately stepped in front of it and said, “Sorry, miss, but no jeans inside the venue.”

“I’m not here for pleasure. I need to talk to your boss.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not—”

The door behind him opened and Roger poked his head out. “Gentlemen, these two ladies have all-hours access to this club and to our boss no matter what the time. Or,” he added, with a somewhat disparaging glance at my clothes, “how inappropriately they might be dressed.”

I grinned as the two big men immediately stepped aside. “I can strip off to my singlet, if you’d like. It has sparkly stars all over it.”

“Thanks, but no. Please.” He opened the door wider and waved us in.

We stored our coats in the check area, but I kept a grip on my pack. While Maelle might not like being in the same room as either holy water or a silver knife, they were at least tucked securely away rather than out in the open. I wasn’t about to leave them behind—not when that vague sense of wrongness was beginning to ramp up again.

Apparently, fate hadn’t already flung enough shit our way.

The music was loud, the place was jumping, and the bar absolutely packed. Even so, Roger moved through the crowd like a prince in his kingdom, with people flowing around him—and us. It was a wave that never touched or in any way threatened to make him pause, even though I wagered most of the people here didn’t even know who he was.

I glanced up at the dark glass-and-metal room that had been built into the ceiling at the point where all the arches met. Though Maelle wasn’t visible, I had no doubt she knew we were here—Roger wouldn’t have appeared with such alacrity otherwise—and that she watched us.

She might be out of sight, but in this place, no one was out of hers.

He led us around the upper deck until we’d reached the ornate wrought iron door that was an intricate mix of vine leaves and skeletal spines. There was an inconspicuous keypad situated on the right-side wall; once Roger had entered the code, the door slid aside and revealed a set of black glass stairs.