Rogue's Passion Read Free

conspiracy. “Turns out he and his friends weren’t leaving. They were all going to the bathroom together.”
    Olivia laughed. “Like a bunch of girlfriends?”
    “Yes,” Rhonda said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Can you believe it? Turns out they were having an actual pissing contest.”
    “What can I say?” A sheepish grin spread across David’s face. “It was a frat brother thing. Whoever peed the longest didn’t have to pay. We were all poor, so this was a big deal.”
    “Did I hear someone say anniversary a few minutes ago?” Marco said, coming up from behind. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear and a bar rag hanging over one shoulder.  
    “Ten years,” David said proudly.
    “Holy cow! That calls for a celebration. Olivia, do you remember where I put that bottle of reserve Cab the distributor wanted us to try? She says it’s fantastic.”  
    “I think it’s down in the cellar,” she replied. “Do you want me to get it?”
    “That would be stellar.”
    She got a kick out of the way he enunciated his words, as though he’d done voice-over work or been a stage actor. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”  
    As she headed down the narrow steps, she thought about how much she liked this place. And who wouldn’t? She got to pour and taste great wine, chat with friendly people, and work for a decent man. The pay and the hours weren’t half bad, either.  
    Her only hope was that she’d be able to stay awhile this time. It would be a shame if she had to go on the run again.  

Chapter Two
     
    To the casual observer at the Apocalypse Tonight Club, Asher looked like he belonged. Two women sat beside him in the high-backed booth, laughing animatedly at jokes that weren’t all that funny. With a pitcher of beer and a collection of empties, he seemed no different from any other guy in the place hoping to score some action tonight.  
    But on the inside, he was ready to kill.
    He scanned the crowd again. New Seattle’s soccer team had just won an important match that qualified them for the World Games, and the city’s residents were well on their way to getting collectively drunk. Young men clustered around the video screens near the bar, singing an off-key version of what he assumed was the team’s theme song. Several females with red-stained lips, black lacy dresses, and spike-heeled boots pulled a businessman out of his seat and hauled him to the dance floor. An unlikely combination, but the man seemed more than eager. An androgynous couple sat at a nearby table, drinking identical purple cocktails in long-stemmed glasses as they looked at the screen of a handheld. Game highlights, he guessed, when they said, “Yes!” in unison and gave each other a subdued high-five.
    Normally he enjoyed places like this because it reminded him of the things he liked best about home, even though he didn’t spend much time there anymore. The music, the drinking, the women just as eager as he was for a roll in the sack or the occasional hook-up in the back that wasn’t quite out of sight. But tonight, it made him sick.  
    When you lose someone you care about, it’s hard to accept that the universe doesn’t notice the huge void. That people don’t look around, confused, wondering what had suddenly gone missing. But no. They still laugh. They still party with their friends. They still watch a black and white ball being kicked up and down a field by grown men and use it as an excuse to get blottered. Like a stone plunked into a moving river, Fallon’s death hadn’t even made a ripple.  
    And if that person’s death was partially your fault, it made things even worse.
    When Toryn had left a few days ago, he’d tried to get Asher to head back with him. “You going after Scar Face isn’t an official mission,” he said. “We need to run it past Rickert first.”
    How was tracking down the killer of an Iron Guild warrior not official when they had taken an oath of justice and honor? And if by some