Apart from the slight pinch to his mouth and the way his knuckles squeezed his glass of whiskey.
The Wendigo looked like he was having the time of his life.
“Where’s Wilder?” Damyr snapped.
“A little tied up right now,” I replied, a little stab of desire pitching low in my stomach as the image of Wilder spread eagle on the bed flashed through my mind.
Damyr scoffed. “Seriously?”
“Yep,” I replied as I sank into the closest armchair and crossed one ankle over the other knee. “So, if we could get this moving?”
The boss pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something under his breath.
Vlad took a sip of his drink and cleared his throat. “Boss, if I may—”
“No, you may not,” Damyr cut in. “Why the fuck is there a wendigo in my goddamn house?”
Vlad looked at me and jerked his head in the direction of the wendigo.
I arched my brow and lifted my hands in the universal sign for ‘what?’
Vlad huffed and pointed his finger at the wendigo and then at me.
I rolled my eyes at him and turn to Damyr. “I found the wendigo in the house where I took down John Brown and his associates. I brought him back here because I thought he might have some information on the weird demon that possessed Johnbefore I shot him between the eyes, but I haven’t had a chance to interrogate him yet.”
“I am sitting right here, pretty boy,” Vee drawled, his pale blue eyes flicking between me and Damyr. He looked better today. The circles under his eyes weren’t as dark and he’d had a wash. His white-blonde hair was clean, and his pale skin glowed like moonlight against the bright red hoodie that he was wearing. He was also in a pair of skinny jeans that seemed a little baggy, but I was sure he’d fill out once he started eating properly again. At least the vampire he’d digested seemed to have given him some decent enough nutrients that he didn’t look like a walking skeleton anymore.
Either that or we’d fed him someone else.
How were we going to feed him?
I’d be happy to find some food for him. Ooh, maybe I could filet someone as I tortured them and feed them to the wendigo while my victim watched.
Vee leant closer to Vlad and dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “Does he always look like he’s killing you seven different ways in his mind?”
Vlad chuckled fondly. “Yeah, or just through you. You kind of get used to it.”
I grinned and Vee grimaced. That just reaffirmed Wilder was perfect for me. He liked my smile.
“Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about killing you,” I said. “In fact, I wanted to ask—”
“You can chat about this in your own time,” Damyr snapped, clearly in a pissy mood. “I want to know how I’m supposed to feed the guy and did you say demon possession?”
“I’m more interested in the fact the guy was called John Brown,” Vee said with a laugh. “I’d only heard him being referred to as Gunner.”
“Which is also a stupid name,” I added. He wasn’t in a motorcycle club, and he didn’t have a gun. “But yes, I said demon possession. John’s eyes went pitch black and his voice changed. It seemed like a demon possession to me, but I’ve not seen that many.”
Damyr’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’ve seen some demon possessions?”
“Yes,” I replied shortly, tapping my fingers on the arm of the chair. “It was before I started working for you. There was a cult I had been paid to take down, and they’d manage to summon a lesser demon, but this felt more powerful. Definitely royal. John called him the king before erupting into flames.”
“Shit,” Damyr huffed. “This is the last thing I want to be dealing with. How did this lowlife crew end up becoming tangled with demons?”
“No idea,” I shrugged. “Bishop has the laptops I stole, and the only other witness is over there.”
Everyone turned to look at the wendigo.
He blinked a couple of times and cast a wary glance up at Vlad.