Repossessed (15 page)

Grandma had often told her about how she’s placed them together. Tessa’s mother didn’t want to be a matchmaker, so Grandma had moved on to the next candidate.

The deceased Kilburn matriarch focused on Rob with a small smile. “I’ve never seen you before. By what name does a handsome man like yourself go by?”

“Robert Shin, Ma’am.”

“He’ll make a fine client, Tessa.”

Tessa’s gaze darted to Rob’s, imploring for him to play along. “Thanks, Grandma. I’m pleased with the progress I’ve made in his regard.”

“What an interesting satchel you have.” The shadows of her hand hovered over the coffee table.

Tessa stood, grabbing the bag. Did her grandma see something she couldn’t? “Didn’t we need look into something important, Rob?” She avoided his eyes and kept her body language neutral. With sharp eyes, the elderly ghost glanced at them.

“You two go ahead,” she beckoned.

Rob saved her with a curt, “Yeah. Let’s go before you get into trouble.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dating Tip #20: Take your date to a romantic location to inspire romance. This doesn’t include the local haunted house which may be creepier than you are.

A couple days ago, Tessa thought she wouldn’t be surprised if Rob had to take something from a supernatural strip club. It seemed rather hilarious. She wasn’t laughing tonight. Not only did he need to repo something from a pimp, but a leprechaun pimp at that.

As they stood outside of the strip club, she rubbed her shoulders.

With a devilish grin, he said, “You can always pass on this one.”

After several missed opportunities to reach her scroll, she couldn’t pass up this chance. “Couldn’t you open the portal as a favor?”

He crossed his arms.

“I won’t tell anyone. It could be between you and me.”

“Nope, proximity issues. Have to be within a certain distance of the repo’ed item.”

Two warlocks left the club, allowing the booming beats of dance music to escape into the street.

Tessa frowned. After the episode with her grandmother, she hadn’t come prepared for a night at the club. Jeans and a T-shirt wasn’t her standard attire.

“Before we go inside, who’s our target? I prefer to be aware of things from now on. No more crazy surprises like weirdo warlocks or pissed off wood nymphs.”

He walked toward the door. “The client wants an ancient goblet, a tenth-century wooden mug that is imbued with warding magic.”

The bouncer at the door eyed their attire with distaste. His eyes swept over her clothes as if she wriggled into the gutter and came back hoping to enter.

Rob leaned forward and whispered into his ear. The man nodded and allowed them to enter.

“What did you tell him?”

He grinned. “That I was your boyfriend and you wanted to talk to the owner about a job.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“It got us in the door, didn’t it?”

“Yes, but now he thinks I’ll be swinging from one of those poles in a few days.”

A sizable crowd circled three stages with a bar in the back. The performers undulated and gyrated as a mixed crowd of humans and supernaturals cheered them on. She’d never been to a strip club before. Not that Tessa had never seen stripping acted out on television, but that wasn’t the same as seeing a woman on stage flinging her business out to customers hoping for a tip. Groups of men and women danced not far from the stage.

Tessa tried to avoid the feeling of being underdressed, but as they weaved through the crowd, she couldn’t help folding her arms to cover her clothes. Her nervous hands checked her hair, smoothed over her shirt.

She hated casting spells related to clothing, but the desire to put her best foot forward drove her toward a corner. A powerful masking spell would require concentration to maintain and hold, but she had only a few options. With a flick of her wrist, she created a black pencil skirt. For good measure she clipped two inches from the hemline and fit the garment more snuggly on her hips. The drab shirt transformed into a blood-red blouse. Her breasts peeked up from the decreased neckline.

Rob finally noticed her departure. Her choices must’ve been good. His eyes weren’t focused on her face. “Get a drink. I need to find my target.”

“Can’t I follow you?”

“You’d slow me down. Sit tight, it won’t take long.”

Tessa harrumphed. With the way the last redhead performed on the stage, she wondered how Rob planned to scope out his target with that kind of distraction. By the time he disappeared into the crowd, the dancer’s sparkling green ensemble lay in a heap on the floor. At the bar, Tessa settled into a seat. She expected her arrival to go unnoticed with the entertainment on the stage, but several pairs of eyes followed her as she passed them.

Thirty seconds later, two offers for drinks were declined. Another asked her when she’d be heading to the stage. How about never?

She glanced around. What happened to Rob?

“Your eyes are hypnotic.”

A Hispanic man with a thin black mustache leaned in behind her. “They remind me of a cat. Very seductive.” His brown eyes drifted to her chest, before meeting her eyes. “You look nervous.”

“I’m waiting for a friend.”

Another patron left his seat beside her, freeing space for the well-dressed werewolf in a white suit and black shirt. Tufts of black hair, which for some reason resembled taco meat, poked out of his partially opened shirt. The lingering scent of his spicy aftershave intermingled with cigars. He smelled like a club.

“I’ve never seen you here before. I’m Claus.”

“You wouldn’t have seen me here.” She didn’t hunt for clients in a strip club.

Her cosmopolitan arrived as Claus leaned in closer over the loud music. His breath stunk of cigars.

“What line of work is that? Do you work at another club?”

Her sip went down hard. Did she look like a stripper? “I work in Manhattan as a matchmaker.”

His eyebrows rose. About two out of three men took her occupation with surprise. It wasn’t the same as announcing she was a stockbroker or an intern at a fashion magazine. The ‘what do you do’ question usually didn’t follow with:
I take supernatural millionaires and find them wives
.

A blonde with streaks of pink jumped on the bar and marched down, gyrating to the beats of the club music. Unconcerted, Claus continued to chat as she stopped in front of them. Tessa turned away as Claus continued to speak. “We’re in the same business, then.”

“Oh, really?” Now, this ought to be good.

“You match people for life, while my enterprise is aimed for the moment.”

Not bad. A little skewed, but one could think of it that way.

He spied the ten Tessa left on the counter and pushed it toward her. “Could I offer you another drink? I treat my guests well. Perhaps some Cristal in the V.I.P. section?”

His finger pointed briefly to an elevated section of the room. The affluent patrons sat clustered in tables with attractive women buzzing around them like eager insects. A bright glint of green caught her eye. The leprechaun pimp. On his table in front of him sat a wooden goblet.

Tessa smiled at the owner of the club. “A quick drink would be nice.”

As he led her to the V.I.P section, other werewolves moved to allow him to pass. The other partiers continued to dance and whistle at the dancers on the stage. She glanced around for Rob, but the mess of bodies made it difficult to make out a head of black hair.

Claus led her up a staircase to the exclusive set of tables. A few groupies remained by the stairs, hoping for an invitation up to the top.

“You can sit at my private table if you like?”

The leprechaun sat in the back with three women clamored around him chatting. Tessa spotted a celebrity or two among the tables. Claus’ table was adjacent to the pimp’s.

“That would be perfect,” Tessa said.

Claus pulled back a chair so she could sit. A waitress appeared with the bottles and drinks. She’d never tasted Cristal, but after a sip, she decided the champagne tasted good.

“You most certainly don’t behave like most of the women who frequent downstairs.” He grinned as he took a seat. “You practically turned down every man who offered you a drink.”

She returned a polite smile as her gaze trained on the rough grain of the goblet.

The leprechaun pimp barely reached the chest level of the women sitting around him. He masked himself well as a businessman with a green blazer and black shirt. Tufts of red hair peeked from under a black fedora. A nose ring completed his glamour. Underneath the disguise, the standard appearance applied: rosy-cheeks, short-height, and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose. But this wasn’t a cheery creature protecting his stash of gold. This one protected his stable of girls who could be bought with an American Express, no Traveler’s checks accepted, please.

From their table Tessa overheard a man speaking. “Seamus, you owe me four hours with Melinda.”

“Four hours? I don’t owe you shit, boy.”

The girls cackled as the man’s face reddened.

“Why am I negotiating with a bastard like you? I could just as easily beat the time out of you.”

The eyes of the leprechaun darkened. “I’d love to see you try me, boy.”

The women continued to smile. The poor human had no idea who he trifled with.

A hand touched Tessa. She almost forgot about the strip club owner. “I never learned your name?”

With a smile to Claus she offered her middle name.

“How lovely. Perhaps I may need to use your services in the future.”

“I don’t know if you could afford me. I have an exclusive list of clients.”

Men like Claus fell for this line each and every time. Question a boastful millionaire on his value and a laundry list was guaranteed. As Claus droned on about his personal holdings, the fight between the leprechaun pimp and the pissed off trick continued.

“How about I come across the table and kick your ass?” the man spat.

Seamus gulped his drink. A leggy blonde refilled the glass from one of the many bottles of premium vodka on the table.

The young man stepped forward. Claus sensed the confrontation and alerted his bouncer. A larger werewolf in a suit approached the table. “Is this gentleman bothering you, Seamus?”

The leprechaun laughed. “Bothered? Would help if I actually
saw
someone in front of me.”

Red-faced, the young man jumped across the table, knocking over bottles. The wooden goblet rolled off the table and disappeared in the direction opposite of where she sat a few feet away. Simultaneously, Seamus cursed as drinks spilled over on him and his girls.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that lad,” Seamus growled as he gave the young man a strong wallop across the head with a cane.

The bouncer grabbed the man as something hit Tessa’s foot under the table. Claus directed the bouncer while she glanced at her high heel. Right next to her foot was the goblet. What the hell? She stared at it for a second before a strong compulsion urged her to pick it up. It tickled the back of her neck and confirmed her suspicions.
Rob?

Tessa picked up the goblet and placed it behind her back in the seat. Transforming an imbued object required power and ability she didn’t possess. With time she could mask it from prying eyes, but she had to act fast.

The stilted john turned over a few drinks as he was carried out of the V.I.P. area. Angry patrons cursed as their drinks were jostled from his kicking feet.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to do damage control,” Claus told her. “Please continue to enjoy the drinks on me.”

By the time Claus left, she’d prepared a masking spell for the goblet behind her. From behind her back, Tessa retrieved a camel brown-colored clutch purse—an ideal disguise. She made her way toward the stairs.

The leprechaun stepped into her path.

“What a pretty witch you are.”

Her heart skipped a beat as the liquor-stained leprechaun leaned forward. Did her mask spell work?

“Seamus, I can’t find it,” one of his women called out. She was bent under the table.

His eyes never left hers. “Keep looking,” he barked.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” the leprechaun said. “You’re new here.”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Thousands of excuses crossed her mind: bathroom, girlfriends heading back home, or boyfriend ready to go. Instead, Tessa mumbled, “I don’t frequent here often.”

“Quite a shame I missed you. Would you like to come sit at my table?”

The faint sliver of Seamus’ compulsion spell glossed over her. One foot scraped forward before a counterspell in another location pushed her back.

His smile faded as he peered toward the crowd below. Did he sense the intervention?

With a push of confidence, Tessa sprang into action. “Thank you for your kind offer, but I have to...” Oh shit, she had fifty million excuses ready to go. Her empty brain refused to work as she stepped backwards.

“I’d love to discuss business with you.” He offered a cocky grin. “A fine lady like yourself could make some nice money.”

His last statement kicked her in the gut. She’d just been propositioned by a pimp...

“I already have a job, thank you, but no thank you.” She skirted around him and bolted for the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she made a beeline for the door. A hand grasped her elbow in the middle of the crowd. She whipped her head around, expecting to see one of Seamus’ girls with an angry snarl. It was Rob.

“I bet it was that witch,” someone in the V.I.P. section yelled.

“Go down there and check her,” Seamus screamed.

“Time to go.” Rob pulled her toward the entrance.

Once outside, they darted across the street toward the closest side street. Rob kept checking for cabs or subway entrances as their brisk walk turned into a light run. High heels weren’t meant for running.

After stumbling a second time he growled, “Lose the heels.”

After she removed the mask on the shoes, they sped a few blocks until they arrived at a quiet park. He allowed her to catch her breath as he watched the direction they came from.

“Not bad,” he said.

“Where were you?”