waiting for us.”
“In that case, the cover charge is a hundred. Pick a book off the shelf, and
I’ll send them down. If the bartender likes them, you can go in.”
I put my hands on the counter and leaned into the face of the large
demon. “Do you know who I am?”
He crossed his arms. “Do you know who I am? The guy who opens the
door if I want to.”
I growled low, but Savannah put her hand on my bicep. Her light touch
cooled my temper even as heat crept along my spine.
“All we have to do is each pick a book?” she asked.
He nodded, arms still crossed and staring me down. “Any book. I’ll send
it down to the bartender, and if she likes your taste, she’ll send you up a
glass, and you can head down.
Savannah bit her lip, thinking. “What can you tell us about the
bartender?”
“Nothing.”
“This is ridiculous,” I snarled. “We’re supposed to be meeting someone
there.”
“Well, you can wait until that someone comes out. We have seats in our
reading lounge.”
My claws slowly began to extend, but Savannah tugged my arm. “Let’s
just do it.”
I turned around, grabbed a book off the shelf, and dropped it on the
counter. Savannah wandered to the back, taking her sweet-ass time browsing
the titles.
“Just pick one,” I grumbled.
“It needs to be the right one.”
What was it about the woman that compelled her to be as frustrating as
possible? After an interminably long time, she came back smiling.
“What did you choose?” Savannah asked me.