Daci glanced over Svetla’s shoulder, brows lifted in question.
Tatiana nodded.
“Well,” Daci started. “You look a little tired, Svetla. Shall I help you back to your quarters so you can lie down?”
“What?” Svetla blinked a few times. “I… I am feeling a little odd. Perhaps I drank too much champagne.”
Daci scooped her arm under Svetla’s and helped her to her feet. “I believe I read that the alcohol gets stronger when it sits for so long like that. I feel a bit dizzy myself.” She laughed and made a show of leaning against Svetla, who almost fell over.
“Here, let me help you both,” Tatiana offered. She might as well. It was the last nice thing she’d ever have to pretend to do with Svetla again.
Chapter Twenty
Doc never thought he’d be so happy to see the penthouse.
Isaiah met him at the door, his face shifting from fearful to relieved a second after he opened it. “Good to have you home, sir. We were so worried.”
We were worried? He knew Isaiah couldn’t be including Heaven in that. “I told you not to call me that.”
“Yes, you did. My apologies.” He bowed a little. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Dinner.” Not that he had much of an appetite with Fi missing and Mal taking his place in that damned square, but it would occupy Isaiah.
As soon as the man left, Doc popped another K to stifle the heat that had been growing in him since the cops had laid hands on him. Then he settled onto the couch and exhaled a long breath. Damn, it was nice to be somewhere that didn’t involve chains. “TV on.”
The holovision flared to life and there was Mal, hung out for all to see. Doc cursed. He was thankful to Mal, but if given the option, he wouldn’t have let Mal take the punishment. Still, he understood. Mal had whispered his reasons as they’d passed in the square. Doc had to give him props for strategy.
“That should be you.”
“Keep it to yourself, Heaven. Now is not the time.” He didn’t give her the satisfaction of eye contact, although he could see her well enough with his peripheral vision. Hard to miss a woman in a red dress so tight it looked on the verge of exploding.
With a pout, she tottered to the bar in her spike heels and poured a drink, then leaned against the bar and took a sip. “If you hadn’t gone out after that vac—”
He whipped his head toward her. “You want to spend the night somewhere else? Because I will put you out.”
“You cannot put me out. I am your wife.”
He pinned her with his gaze. “I’m the pride leader. I can do whatever the hell I want.” He lifted his finger to point at her. “Say one more word. One. More. Go ahead, I just need a reason.”
She snorted a breath through her nostrils, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and, drink in hand, sashayed out.
Shaking his head, he settled back against the leather. A soft buzzing interrupted his thoughts. He sat up and looked around but saw nothing that seemed like it might make that sound. A few seconds after he’d gone back to staring at the TV screen, Isaiah came in.
“Pardon the interruption, but the council members would like an audience.”
He rubbed a hand over his scalp. “Now? Here?”
“As soon as you can meet them in your office, si—Maddoc.”
He needed to talk to them anyway; he’d just figured he’d do it in the morning, once he knew the outcome of tonight’s events. He glanced at the holovision. From what he could see, the crowds were still being turned away. The cameras focused on Mal, and the reporter was now only visible in a small box in the lower corner of the screen. Mal was doing that still-as-a-statue thing old vampires had a real knack for. Must be driving the TV stations nuts that he wasn’t thrashing around, trying to break free.
“Tell them ten minutes. I’ll head down now.”
Isaiah nodded. “Very good.”
Doc got up as Isaiah left. What he really wanted was a hot shower, but that would have to wait. He jumped into the elevator and went down to his office. He nodded in greeting to the night-shift guards. One opened the door for him and the lights came on slowly to their preset brightness.
He stopped before going in. “Council’s coming in a few minutes.”
“You want them sent in as they arrive?” the guard asked.
“That’s fine.”
“Will do.”
Doc went in and shut the door. Like everything else in his life lately, the place reeked of Sinjin. If this pride leader business turned out to be a permanent thing, something he still had his doubts about, he was definitely going to make some changes.
The light on the e-reader on his desk blinked at him. He turned it on and a message greeted him, telling him the last fourteen editions of the Paradise City Press were unread. Headlines from the latest one scrolled across the bottom of the message box. No surprise that the mayor’s curfew was mentioned.
He turned the e-reader off and the holovision on, keeping the volume low. He just needed to monitor the situation, in case Mal needed him. No telling what the mayor might try to pull at the last second.
The door opened and two of his three advisers entered.
“Where’s Fritz?”
Barasa cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry, but he’s quit.”
Doc furrowed his brow. “He quit? Why?”
Omur glanced at Barasa. “He was Sinjin’s man, Maddoc. Be glad he’s gone.”