He was in a fucking foul mood, and it was getting worse by the moment. He made his way around the crowd, trying to stay to the shadows as much as possible by hugging the edges of the walls as Seychelle sang an upbeat song that had most of the crowd going. He edged close to the stage, keeping his eyes not on his woman but on the occupants of the bar. Reaper, Storm, Destroyer and Ink stayed in the shadows, along with Savage. Preacher was behind the bar with Anya and Sabelia serving drinks. Sabelia was a little tentative, but she was catching on fast. Heidi, Betina and Delia moved around the tables, taking orders.
Scarlet, Lissa, Lana and Alena sat at a table with Soleil and Zyah, close to the stage. Savage was particularly happy to have the women together so close to Seychelle. The band, Master, Keys, Player and Maestro, were with her, but having the women looking as if they were just out enjoying the evening, knowing if anything went wrong, Scarlet, Lissa, Lana and Alena would have the other wives safe and under cover immediately.
Casimir and Gavriil stayed close to the door, acting as bouncers. Absinthe was on the security screens with Code. They had the bar covered, but Savage knew, with the amount of bikers from different clubs inside, one little match could set off a shit storm of trouble in an instance.
Bannister sat at the bar, close to the stage. He wasn’t a member of Torpedo Ink, but he was always ready to back their play. Anya was extremely protective of him. Delia and he had grown very close in the last few weeks. He lived in one of the two apartments above the bar. Delia lived in the other one.
The band was giving one of their best performances, at least Savage thought so. Few of the customers could stay in their seats for long. Most were already paying more attention to the music than trying to converse with one another.
He let himself look at his woman for just a moment, take in her beauty as she sang, her rhythm as she moved in time to the beat of the song making her seem like she was part of the music. Seychelle glowed when she sang. Her skin. Her hair. Her eyes. She had a siren’s voice—at least for him. Her voice was compelling, filled with emotion and transferring that emotion to anyone who could hear her.
The band kept the songs upbeat, so that those in the room were continually on their feet, in a good mood, rather than surly or wanting to pick fights. Savage could feel Seychelle’s subtle influence in that energy. He could see the golden notes climbing the walls to the ceiling, forming a net to enfold her audience in good vibrations that rocked the bar and kept everyone laughing and upbeat.
Savage loved seeing her power, but he didn’t love that he had promised her a good time and she’d gotten something different. He saw her gaze shift to someone in the crowd and then to Alena and then to him, clearly warning him. She never missed a beat, her singing smooth and easy, rocking the throng. He followed the direction of her gaze and saw Pierce making his way through the door. His gaze had already found Alena, moved on to ferret out every potential threat to his president and then come back to Alena.
Plank is here with eight more of his men. Pierce, Lion, Shark and Judge are with him, along with four others, Gavriil reported. You figure with those already here, the Diamondbacks have a large presence in the bar.
They want trouble after this Tawny thing, they can find it right here, Reaper responded. Trying to shove that shit on us.
He meant on Savage. Savage could feel the rising tension. The anger. It wasn’t just his own. Plank had a lot to answer for. If he arranged for Tawny’s death and tried to pin it on Savage, or Torpedo Ink, there was no saving him. Their club had saved his life as well as the lives of his top men. Brandon and his mother, Nina, may have put the hits out on them, but Torpedo Ink had shut them down whether Plank wanted to admit it or not. If he had repaid them by murdering Tawny and then attempting to pin her death on their club, he was definitely a dead man.
Pierce walked up to a large table and stood there waiting. It was occupied by members of the Venomous club. There was a tense moment while the members continued to sit stubbornly. Savage and Reaper moved out of the shadows to stand beside Pierce, although Savage would much rather gut Pierce than show any solidarity toward him. The moment the Venomous club members stood and retreated, one knocking over a chair, Heidi was there to clear the table.
Savage turned and disappeared, leaving his older brother to right the chair before he moved into the shadows as well. Neither greeted Pierce, or even acknowledged him. As far as they were concerned, he was a dead man. He’d hurt their sister. It didn’t matter that he kept coming around, acting like he wanted to make amends. Pierce had shared a video that he’d insisted she make for him alone with his president, who shared it with other members of his chapter. That was so disrespectful in the eyes of Torpedo Ink that no matter what Pierce did, none of them would be able to forgive that shit.
Already Savage could feel Alena’s pain. An ache for what she’d lost. Or for the fact that she’d trusted someone, and he’d betrayed that trust. He wasn’t the only one to feel her pain. All of the members were woven together, and they could all feel it, whether Alena tried to hide it or not. Alena was soft inside. She had learned, over the years, to hide that softness from others, but she was much more vulnerable than any of the rest of them. Essentially, she was their baby sister, and Pierce had torn her apart.
The anger was there, smoldering in each member, kept under control because they dared not feed that explosive mixture of dynamite in the bar, but it was there all the same. Savage absorbed as much as he could, allowing the rage to pool in that reservoir so the others could function unimpaired.
Heidi took the orders at the table, smiling and flirting just a little, laughing with the Diamondbacks easily. She was the consummate professional, a real asset to the club. She was extremely loyal to them, never gossiped about them or anything she may have inadvertently overheard, but when she picked up information, she passed it on to one of the club members or Anya immediately.
She moved easily through the crowd, so experienced she was barely touched by any of the many bikers crowding around the bar unless she wanted to be touched. “Preacher, table seven orders,” she called out and leaned in close to Bannister. Bannister was always on the same bar stool, the one nearest the band, and Anya covered that section. By calling out to Preacher, that meant she had a note or information of some kind to pass down the line.
“I’m free,” Anya made a point of saying. She smiled and began filling the drink orders even as she slid the note off the bar. Preacher stepped behind Sabelia, one hand on her shoulder as if checking her work.
Sabelia glared at him. “I’ve got this. I’m slow, but I’m getting the hang of it. No one’s complained yet.”
“Don’t want you poisoning the customers, malen’kiy ved’ma. Just making sure.”
Anya deftly slid the note in Preacher’s pocket as he turned away.
Sabelia narrowed her eyes. “Did you call me a witch?”
Preacher moved away from her with an easy roll of his shoulders. “Some might use that word for witch. I personally prefer it for hellcat.”
“Lovely. Just lovely. You’re going to find out what a hellcat I can be,” Sabelia muttered under her breath, but she kept working.
Anya burst out laughing. “Preacher is a pain in the ass. Don’t let him get to you. You’re doing great, which is why he’s all up in your business. You were supposed to fall on your face and need his help so he could be all superior.”