Excerpt the Duex

Because Angel begged....lol. Second excerpt.



Toronto was a bustling city, lively and full of energy and possibility. A young city, it was taking steps out onto the world stage like a hesitant debutant, eager yet shy. Drake had watched it grow from a frontier town all but centred around a fort that was now a tourist attraction, into the vast and sprawling multi-cultural city it was now. And currently his back was turned to it.

Literally.

His dark eyed gaze was fixed on the small lights of the Toronto Islands, a peaceful scattering of islands just off the harbour, and beyond them the lights of the various boats that were anchored on Lake Ontario for the night. His faint reflection showed in the floor to ceiling windows of the living room of his penthouse as he stood there, hands clasped behind his back as one of his visitors shuffled nervously.

The sound drew Drake’s attention away from the Islands, and he glanced to the right, handsome features etched in grim amusement as he looked at his associate and the tiny woman standing next to him. The visitor shuffled again and coughed slightly, an older man dragged in by the woman, still standing beyond Drake’s vision. His associate grinned back at him, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned casually against the chrome wet bar. The woman had her small hands jammed into the pockets of her black cargo pants, brilliant scarlet hair spilling over her face and obscuring the face of Che Guevara imprinted on her tank top.

The air smelt of human blood, and Drake knew it came off of the woman as much as from within the visitor. She’d struck again and she didn’t care and didn’t feel satisfied just yet. “Red, if you aren’t careful, the wrong people might start to ask questions.”

The seemingly genial warning was offered in a smooth, deep voice, the faint accent unreadable in its origins. No one knew just where Drake had originated from, it was his own secret, and his looks helped him in that regard. His skin tone, paled over the centuries, could be Mediterranean, Latino, Greek, even Arabic. His eyes were dark and unreadable, the planes of his face seeming to have been sculpted by one of the great artists of the Renaissance. His hair was dark, and currently bore carefully placed streaks of honey blonde, framing his face and spilling over his broad shoulders.

“Wrong people ask wrong questions I’ll fuckin deal with them.” Red muttered, green eyes peering out at her boss through the vivid red veil of hair. “Right people ask the wrong questions, I’ll deal with em. I got it under control.”

Red was a tiny woman, a perpetual teenager with the face of an angel, and one of the most vicious and violent beings Drake had ever come across. And she was less than a century old, less than half a century. And in her position within his organization for only a year, and already, despite her taste for personal vengeance, indispensable. Which was rare in Drake’s world. Perhaps it was due to her own personal vendetta being fully in line with what Drake wanted anyway.

“So long as I don’t have to take control.” Dante muttered, not even looking at the woman by his side, his steady gaze having moved from Drake’s still form to the shuffling and sweating visitor standing in the middle of the living room.

“Fuck off.” Red muttered, pushing away from her place next to Dante and flopping herself down in a club chair. Dante only grinned, winking at Drake who allowed himself a ghost of a grin at the brief exchange. Red all but snarled. Typical of the two. At least she knew they took her seriously. “I think, however, I’ve been effective enough to convince Chan here to capitulate.” Red’s chin jutted towards the visitor, an older Chinese man who had been watching the exchange through hooded eyes, nervous, but not necessarily afraid.

“Ah yes, Chan.” Drake smiled and finally turned to face the visitor. “I trust Red was an amicable guardian on your trip here?”

“Red….” Chan eyed the small woman slumped in the club chair, and his look hardened. He would have to look into paying her back. “It is very rare that a man in your position would entrust a youth such as herself, not to mention a woman, in such a vital area of your organization.”

“Misogynistic bastard.” Red hissed. She didn’t move, but even a child could see that she was primed to pounce. That’s what she hated, especially with the older ones. They looked at her, a small woman, young, still within her mortal lifetime, and viewed her within whatever ancient morals and cultural dictations they sprang out of. Thankfully, Drake changed with the times. Red knew full well she’d not be able to deal if Drake regarded her in a social context older than the country they lived in.

Drake raised a hand, stilling any further outburst from his enforcer, not once taking his eyes off of Chan. “I like to spring the unexpected on others.” He purred as he moved away from the expanse of windows. “And Red is unexpected. In more ways than one. You must admit she does her job exceedingly well.”

Chan nodded, although with slight reluctance. “Aye. She does.” Much to his dismay, Red only smiled, an expression that didn’t reach her snapping green eyes.

“So, has The Honourable Society of the Dragon decided to return to giving me my cut of the profits, as per the long standing agreement?

Chan’s attention returned to Drake, his almond shaped eyes, rimmed with crow’s feet narrowing slightly. “We have.” He muttered.