by Renee Rose
“Yeah. You finally expanded your color palette a little.”
The bastard’s wearing a fangy grin. Everyone thinks they’re a comedian. “Why does it shock anyone that I picked a blue car this time?”
“Because your last, what, twenty or thirty cars have all been black, or dark grey.” He gestures to my clothes. “And let’s talk about your suits.”
“What is wrong with my suits? I wear on my body clothes worth more than what the average human earns in a month.”
He snorts and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeesss, and yet you can’t be arsed to spring for a fashion consultant?”
“There is nothing wrong with my clothes.”
“If you’re an undertaker, you’re absolutely correct.”
“Fuck you.”
The door upstairs opens again and Theophilus blurs down, appearing next to Maximus. “We ready to open? There’s already a line.”
I glance at my watch. “They’re queuing earlier every weekend.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “They’re our meal ticket. Just keep reminding yourself of that.”
“Any word on Lucius and Selene’s expected return?” I ask.
“Not yet. Although I have a feeling he’s going to be stepping away for a while. And that,” he quickly adds, “isn’t for public knowledge.”
That’s news to me. “He’s going on an extended holiday?”
“Extended honeymoon.” He smiles. “He wants to take Selene on a tour of the world. Visit our old haunts.”
“Settle a few scores?” Maximus arches a brow as we both look at him. “What? You know you’re thinking it, too.”
I snort. “I’m not stupid enough to say it in front of Lucius, or Selene.”
“Anyway,” Theophilus says, getting us back on track. “I’ve got staff working on the preparations for the party next weekend. Any special requests?”
Maybe this is the source of my disquiet. It seems like nearly everyone in our original “family” has a partner now.
Besides me. “No. I’m good.”
“Bringing a plus-one?” Theophilus asks.
“Not as of now, no.” I wish people would stop asking me that.
Yes, maybe that’s one reason I traded in my Porsche for the Mercedes. I needed something new in my life and there’s a hole I’m trying to fill.
Within me, for once, and not someone else’s. Hole, that is.
At least in this modern age, being gay isn’t something I have to conceal on top of being a vampire. Oh, we’ve all dallied with men at some point, whether just to feed or to get a little freaky with them. I’ve had countless women in my bed over the centuries, but only because there were times it was easier to seek out a woman than to woo a man who was likely deep in the closet. And it brought far less scrutiny upon me and the rest of our nest as a result.
Blending in is crucial when we’re so vulnerable during the day. Although now it’s ironically far easier to blend in than at any point in history. With humans so consumed by their phones, and a twenty-four-hour news cycle tugging at their interest, as long as we don’t rip someone’s throat out in front of a camera, we can blend in.
Yet, I’m still in a closet, of a sort.
Well, a coffin, I suppose.
As we all head upstairs to finish opening prep, I draw in a deep breath, more out of habit than necessity. We don’t need to breathe except to speak, or smell something, but some habits die harder than we do.
My unsettled feeling isn’t abating, and that concerns me. If anything, it feels like the storm is drawing closer.
Since I have no idea what portent that feeling might possibly indicate, I really don’t want to raise anyone else’s hackles by saying something yet.
Besides, they’re already harassing me enough as it is tonight. I don’t need to add some half-assed wrong idea to the list of topics for their amusement.
As we approach opening time, Theophilus turns to me. “I’d like you on the door for opening tonight. At least for a while.”
I nod. “Fine.” I’m really not in the mood to be in the dungeon, which is one of my most frequent stations.
Tonight, I don’t feel like seeking out company, or a human meal. While not my normal choice, this evening I’d prefer to drink my dinner from a glass and be done with it.
Yeah, I don’t understand it either, but that’s my current mood. It’s not normal for me.
Meaning I really need to listen to this mood and go with it, especially since it’s so disquieting.
Theophilus scowls. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just… in a mood.”
That’s not a lie.
“You need to get laid. Why don’t you pick someone tonight? Once we’re past opening, we’ll have plenty of help.”
I shrug. “I doubt it, but if I change my mind, I’ll take a break.”
“You sure you’re all right?”
I can tell he won’t leave me alone until I say something. “You ever have one of those moods where you think there’s something there, maybe? But you can’t put your finger on if it’s good or bad?”
“Sometimes. You think we’ll have trouble tonight?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem.”
He claps me on the shoulder and heads off. Meanwhile, I turn and make my way to the front entrance. There’s a girl manning the coat check closet tonight, Khloe, one of the club’s house humans. Not a bad kid—and all the humans are kids when compared to my age—and she’s a sweetblood. She’s not looking to get turned, but she’s on her way to basically being married to the club.
I’ll have to remind Theophilus to check her personnel file and see if it’s time for us to evaluate how she’s doing, or if we need to think about letting her go soon. Sometimes, humans who’ve been sweetbloods for too long start to lose control of their lives outside the club and become a risk to us.
In those cases, we wipe their memories and send them on their way with a set of replacement memories and a small cash bounty that will help get them a new start somewhere else. Usually, we have them tell their family or whoever cares about them that they were in a secret relationship that turned abusive, and they don’t want to talk about it, which helps cover a multitude of questions.
She offers me a smile. “If you’re not doing anything later…” She doesn’t finish.
She doesn’t need to.
“Probably not tonight, sorry. Got some things going on. Thanks for the offer.”
Her smile doesn’t show any hints of rejection, even without me using my thrall on her. She knows I prefer men to women but I don’t blame her for putting the offer out there. “No worries.”
I make sure everything’s ready and, sure enough, the line’s down the block already. I’d like to say we have a dress code, but the truth is, if a vampire plucks someone out of line to bring in with them, they could be dressed like a damned clown and we’ll let them in.
But being well-dressed will more likely draw a vampire’s eye, get you bumped to the head of the line, and brought inside sooner than if you’re dressed less than stylishly.
No, it’s not being snotty. It’s called having standards, thank you very much. We have them.
I can’t help but sigh when I unlock and open the doors and study the line. We’re going to be busy tonight. Yet that odd feeling still lingers within me.
I hope it doesn’t signify the impending arrival of some dark event.
We open, and I stand in my position, checking IDs as clueless humans eagerly file in to spend their money and possibly become a meal. It’s tempting to let my guard down a little and relax, but experience has shown me if I do that, shit’s liable to hit the fan.
That’s when I spot Taylor, one of our regular vampires, approaching the door. On one arm, he’s got a woman he’s just snagged out of the line. I missed seeing if Taylor brought the man on his other arm, or if he was also selected from the line, but I can’t take my eyes off the guy.
And as Taylor meets my gaze with o
ne of his own that’s borderline challenging me, he smiles. “Tiberius.”
I give him a curt nod, because it’s taking everything in my power not to yank the young guy away from him. Taylor’s not my favorite person in the world, but he’s not a totally evil shit, at least.
But the man with him, a human…
Holy fates, he smells amazing! Like he’s…
Oh, shit.
He smells like he’s mine.
Chapter 4
Taylor escorts us right inside, past the two large and hunky men at the front door.
Suit-clad men, yum! One of them has gorgeous blue eyes a different shade than Taylor’s. He’s also taller, with dark hair, and I feel drawn to him. When I start to take a closer look, Taylor uses a finger to touch my chin and swivel my head so I’m looking into his gorgeously sea blue eyes, and…
Hi.
He smiles. “There you are, my sweet treat.” The world starts and ends with him, and I can’t even begin to explain why.
I follow Taylor and savor this unfamiliar feeling of owning the whole world as I realize people were jealously watching me and the woman, whose name I’ve already forgotten, with blatant longing in their eyes as Taylor escorted us through the club’s front door.
As I start to really study my surroundings, I realize I don’t know what I thought I’d find inside the club, except this isn’t it.
Keep in mind, I grew up without a television or the Internet. I still don’t have a television, although I’ve been catching up on TV shows and movies via streaming services on my phone. My building comes with free Wi-Fi, and my cellphone was one of the first things I purchased for myself when I decided to settle in Tucson. I knew I’d need one for finding a job, for starters. It’s not an expensive model, just a budget smartphone, but it does what I need it to do and has literally opened an entire world to me.
Not that I can communicate with my family. I’m reasonably certain I’m dead to them, and most everyone doesn’t even have a cellphone. My father has one, because of work, but no one else in our immediate family is allowed to have one. A couple of my uncles also have phones for work.
I realize now that’s probably a way they keep tight control over everyone beneath them.
And calling my father isn’t an option.
Then again, I guess I am hoping I’m dead to them. If I’m not, and they come looking for me, that could very likely be a worse scenario for me. The longer I’ve been away from that situation, the more I realize how dangerously toxic it was. I can’t even save my mother, I’m sure. Or any of my other siblings.
My father’s other wives…
Unlike some of my other brothers and sisters, I never could get comfortable thinking about my father’s other wives as my “mothers.” My mom is my father’s first wife, and his other three wives are younger than her. I have older and younger half-siblings, but I am the youngest of eight kids my mom had.
There’s no way I’d ever go back and live like that, either. Not after everything I’ve learned about myself and the world over the past ten months.
In retrospect, I also realize several of my older brothers and male cousins who left and never returned probably went through a similar culture shock I did. I’m saddened that I literally have no way of contacting them now to see if we could at least band together or something.
Oh, right. The club.
I’m having trouble focusing while Taylor’s holding on to my hand. Every time my brain starts to take in my surroundings, he turns to me with that smile on his face and those gorgeous blue eyes of his, and I completely lose my train of thought.
Wasn’t I going to look for… someone?
Who was that?
I guess it really doesn’t matter, does it? I’m here with Taylor and…
Does the woman’s name even matter? Something tells me it doesn’t.
The point is that I don’t feel alone anymore. I feel like I belong.
Isn’t that stupid and dangerous?
I don’t know. All I can think about is Taylor’s smile, and the blue of his eyes.
And when I glance back toward the front door, I spot the one bouncer watching me with his mysterious blue gaze, which is a darker shade of blue than Taylor’s. He’s wearing a gorgeous suit, and it’s almost like I can hear his voice inside my head.
Taylor squeezes my hand and leads us out of the foyer and toward a group of tables near one corner. Meaning we have to pass the dance floor.
Inside the club, it’s dark and warm, and the beat of the music throbs through my body. There are lights on the dance floor and lights all around, but it still feels dark and sweetly seductive. People are dancing and writhing against each other, but they don’t seem to have individual faces. It feels like one large, connected mass of flesh.
Except for Taylor.
And except for the various men I see scattered around the outer walls of the club, men who are apparently bouncers, like the men at the front door. They aren’t dressed identically, although most of them wear suits. But they all bear the same heavy, sharp, watchful and dark kind of stare.
It also feels like someone’s watching me specifically. When I turn to look, I spot the man from the front door now standing on the other side of the room and seemingly studying me.
Heat fills my face. I wonder if the handsome stranger is upset with me. Maybe he could tell I was checking him out. I’m such a baby gay, and due to my upbringing I still suck at interpreting basic social cues like this. I—
“Earth to Baker,” Taylor drawls, laughing. “Come back to me, baby.”
My head snaps around to focus on Taylor. For a moment, I can’t remember what I was even looking at, and can barely remember my own dang name.
It should embarrass me that my cock’s hard and throbbing in my jeans, yet it doesn’t. Taylor leads us to a corner booth, where he sits between me and the woman.
“This isn’t Naomi’s first time here, darling,” Taylor says once we’re seated. “So she already knows this club has a secret.”
I guess Naomi is the woman’s name. Hard to say, because I’m still entranced by Taylor’s blue gaze. “A secret?”
He smiles and flags down a server. “Yes. Only certain special people are allowed downstairs. Luckily for you both, I am one of those people. As my guests, you may accompany me.”
“What’s downstairs?” I ask.
Naomi giggles. “A lot of fun.”
A server comes over and Taylor orders for himself and Naomi, then looks to me. “What’s your poison, Baker? Anything you want—it’s on me.”
I’ve never had alcohol, and I don’t know if this is the right time to admit that. Except I don’t want to get myself into trouble. “I’m not a very experienced drinker.”
“Ah! Let’s go with a rum and Coke for him then,” Taylor says. The server nods and heads off to get our drinks.
Taylor drapes his arms around us and pulls us in close. When I glance across the room, I spot the man again. He’s shifted positions so he’s closer than he was before.
Funny, I don’t even remember seeing him move.
Then again, I am sort of distracted. Taylor has a sweet, earthy scent that reminds me of spices and sugar, with a hint of old leather.
“Darling,” he whispers to me, “are you a Top or bottom?”
At least I know what that means. I’ve been reading. “I don’t really know.”
He nuzzles my earlobe, his teeth grazing it and sending a jolt of liquid heat straight to my cock. “That’s all right. I’ll help you figure it out downstairs.”
The server returns with our order, and Taylor pays her in cash and gives her a generous tip. Once we have our drinks, he holds his up in a toast, and Naomi and I do likewise.
“To a fun evening,” Taylor says, glancing first at Naomi, then to me. “And to brand-new friends.”
“To brand-new friends,” Naomi and I both parrot.
The drink is good, but I immediately taste the bite of what I assume is the liquor,
and fight the urge to cough as I swallow.
Taylor grins and leans in, kissing me. His lips feel particularly cool against mine, but mine open when I feel the tip of his tongue sweep along the seam of them. “Enjoy your drink, baby,” he says, and I take several long, deep draws from my straw.
“Thank you,” I finally remember to say. “I appreciate this.”
“My pleasure.” His gaze narrows. “Exactly how new are you, baby?” he asks, staring into my eyes.
Something deep inside me rolls over and wants to give everything I am to him. I don’t hesitate to answer. “I’m a virgin,” I whisper.
His eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Yes. And… I’m gay.”
I sense a blur of motion. Suddenly, as if I blinked and he appeared, the tall, dark, hunky bouncer from the entrance now stands at our table. “Taylor,” he says in greeting, except his gaze is on me and I find myself drawn to him in a way I don’t understand.
Taylor’s tone thins somewhat. “Tiberius. How are you?”
“I am well.” Ooh! He sounds British. His gaze finally shifts from me to Taylor. “A moment to speak in private, if you please?”
It doesn’t sound like a request.
Taylor’s sigh sounds huffy. “Really? Right now?”
When Tiberius’ right eyebrow arches, I feel my cock lurch to full life with it.
Taylor clambers around Naomi to exit the booth and the two men step away. I crane my neck to follow them but then Naomi giggles again, drawing my attention.
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I think Tiberius likes you.”
“Is that really his name?”
“Far’s I know.” She stirs her drink with her straw.
My pulse thunders at the thought that the handsome man might be interested in me. Meanwhile, I settle back in my seat and work on my drink.
This is definitely not what I had in mind when I arrived here tonight.
Maybe it’s even better.
Chapter 5
That little fucker.
I fight the urge to shove Taylor through the goddamned wall. “What do you want?” I want to wipe the smarmy smile off his face with my fists.
