Green eyes slammed into me. “I said be silent!”
The fresh brand of heat above my cleavage startled me into silence more effectively than the sharp command, but Shouty Guy’s attention had already moved on. Everywhere I looked, faces were staring back at him with an odd kind of fascination. Even Maurice, the tough security guy, was looking at the man with a sort of slack-jawed compulsion, like he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“What game are you playing in this private little den of iniquity, nightcrawler?” the man asked, his tone growing contemplative.
“Den of...” Leonides echoed under his breath. “Dear god, do all Fae talk like Jane fucking Austen? It’s a jazz club. What does it look like I’m doing here? I’m selling access to booze and music.”
But the intruder’s attention had already shifted again, settling on Maurice and ignoring Leonides as though the other man weren’t pointing a gun at his heart. My sense of surreality grew as he tilted his head curiously.
“You,” he said, as though speaking to a dog. Or a slave. “Does the bloodsucker have his lackeys armed against the supernatural as well, I wonder? Take out your gun.”
“Don’t,” Leonides said warningly... though I wasn’t sure which one of them he was speaking to.
Maurice’s hand trembled as he reached inside his jacket again, this time coming out with a chunky pistol clutched in his grip. His eyes stared unblinkingly at the intruder, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead.
Creepy Guy smiled, showing teeth that seemed too white and too even. The expression was anything but friendly. “That’s right,” he crooned. “Now, point it at your temple. Go on... you know you want to. Do it for me...”
I heard Leonides’ sharp, indrawn breath, at the same moment that the odd sense of disconnection that had held me meek and unmoving snapped.
“Stop!” I shouted, darting across the space separating me from Maurice. The wavering barrel of the gun was halfway to his head when I grabbed it and twisted it out of his sweaty grip. With my free hand, I slapped him across the cheek, adrenaline chasing away all restraint. “What are you doing? Snap out of it!”
Maurice stumbled back a step, blinking. His hand went to the reddening palm print on the side of his face, the spell broken. I whirled around, fumbling the gun into position in my hands like I’d seen in cop shows, and pointing the business end at the guy who might or might not be a symptom of my hypothetical psychotic break.
“You—get out of here!” I told him, trying to bury the quaver in my voice. “This gun has iron and... and salt bullets, too!”
The smug bastard just raised a slow eyebrow at me, as though I’d finally merited his interest. “Intriguing.”
“I’ll show you intriguing!” I shot back, channeling everything into keeping the gun barrel from trembling. I had no idea if there was, like, a safety or something on the weapon, and if so, whether it was on or off. Moot point—since I didn’t think I was really capable of pulling the trigger.
This was going to end badly, wasn’t it? Jesus, what was I doing? I had a son waiting for me at home...
“Look. Just leave,” Leonides said, with the world-weary air of someone who’d rather be anywhere else, doing just about anything else besides this. “I’m guessing you have higher-ups, right? And if you really came here chasing rumors, it sounds like you’ve got more than enough juicy gossip to take back to them. Or, alternately, I could put an iron plug through your fairy ass, have Maurice lock the doors, and mesmerize everyone here into forgetting all about what they saw. Which, frankly, sounds like a damn sight more work than I really want to deal with tonight.”
Creepy Dude was still staring at me as though he could peel back the layers of my skin. The heat of my great aunt’s necklace against my chest was almost painful enough to make me drop the gun. Only my rampaging fight-or-flight response kept the hard plastic grip clenched in my hands.
The guy was so... unnaturally perfect. My mind kept sliding toward wanting to be closer, wanting to please him—only to jerk back into completely rational panic over the situation whenever the throb of the burn between my breasts distracted me.
After an endless moment, he released me from the prison of his gaze and turned to Leonides instead, eyeing the smaller gun warily. “Very well, bloodsucker. Since you are so eager for me to make my report, I will do so. I’ve no doubt my superiors will be quite interested to hear about the reception I received in your... establishment.” His green eyes flicked to me again, and I tensed. “Not to mention, the sort of company you’ve been keeping.”
For a confused instant, I thought he was referring to my new career as an escort, and my cheeks flamed with heat. But before I could stop and wonder why the hell this man or his bosses would care whether Leonides was paying for sex, he’d turned to gather the frozen crowd in with a sweeping look.
“You. Humans. Nothing of interest has occurred here this night. Once I am gone, continue about your business.” He waved dismissively with one hand. To my relief, no glowing CGI effects followed the gesture.
Then, he turned on his heel, looking for all the world like royalty departing from an evening’s soiree as he strode away, head held high. The way he’d said ‘humans,’ though—
“Stop waving that gun around,” Leonides said in a low voice, as the noise level around us returned to normal. People in the club were shaking off the past few minutes, and striking up casual conversation like the world hadn’t just been turned on its axis.
I stood there for a moment, shaking, before I realized that he was talking to me. In a heartbeat, I lowered the gun until it was dangling from my fingers, holding it away from my body like I was holding a poisonous snake. Leonides had already stowed his tiny weapon, which disappeared into his pocket like it had never existed. He moved smoothly to block the sight of my gun—Maurice’s gun—from the crowd.
“Maurice?” he asked. “You okay there?”
The big man appeared disoriented for a moment before he shook it off and replied, “Yes, boss,” in the tone of someone who’d lost the thread of a conversation. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Leonides nodded. “I was saying you should get your weapon back from Ms. LeFleur, and return to your post while I take a few moments to contemplate how much I miss whiskey.”
Maurice frowned, his hand moving instinctively to his empty holster. “My weap—” His eyes darted to the gun in my hand. “What the hell?”
I sheepishly handed the pistol to him, grip first, and tried not to stare at the red mark on his cheek where I’d slapped him. My teeth were chattering, I noticed distantly. Was it getting cold in here?
Leonides’ tone turned dark as he replied, “Word of advice—file this one under ‘Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.’ Keep a close eye on the patrons tonight, and make sure whoever closes up double checks the locks and security system before they leave. Ms. LeFleur isn’t feeling well; I’m taking her upstairs. Buzz me if anything seems out of the ordinary.”
Maurice stammered some kind of agreement, hastily jamming the weapon back in its holster and settling the line of his jacket over it.
A cool hand closed around my upper arm, and then I was being propelled gently toward the elevators. The small patch of burned skin where my pendant rested throbbed in an angry rhythm. Behind me, I could hear the sounds of the musicians starting up again.
And the band played on, I thought, a bit hysterically.
The elevator dinged. Leonides was silent as we rode it up to the penthouse suite, but I could feel the weight of his gaze. It was only when he’d ushered me inside and installed me on a comfortable sofa in the elegant living room that I found my voice.
“Did all of that just happen?” I asked in a tone that sounded strangely conversational. “Because I’m still leaning toward a stress-induced psychotic break, to be honest. And... I can’t really afford the time off.”
He frowned at me—concern and regret written in the faint lines marring his brow. “Hey. Lo
ok at me for a sec, all right?”
I did, and felt another sharp jolt when the depths of his dark brown eyes kindled with an unmistakable violet glow. This time, it definitely wasn’t a trick of the light. My body pressed back against the cushions. “What—?”
“You feel calm,” he said. “Nothing unusual happened in the club downstairs. You had a dizzy spell and I brought you up here to recuperate...”
Heat blistered my skin and I squawked at the sharp burn, scrabbling at the chain around my neck to hold the pendant as far away as possible. “What’s happening to me?” I yelped, scooting along the cushions to put more distance between us. His words penetrated properly, and I glared up at him. “And... a dizzy spell? Seriously? What is this, the nineteen-fifties?”
He backed off, his hands raised in a placating gesture. The violet glow disappeared as though it had never been.
“Okay,” he muttered. “So apparently that doesn’t work either. Terrific.”
“Answer the question!” I snapped, genuinely concerned that I was watching myself lose all my marbles in real time.
A beat. “It’s... not the nineteen-fifties?”
I ground my teeth. “Did all of that really happen!”
His gaze dropped to chest level, and I would have blushed again if it weren’t so obvious that he was looking at my pendant, and not my... assets.
“It did,” he said grimly. “Though parts of it definitely shouldn’t have. And you’re hurt. That’s a second-degree burn.”
The idea of dabbing Neosporin on my blistered cleavage while he watched was too mortifying for words. “It’s fine,” I said curtly, even though it actually hurt like the devil.
“I could get you some ice—”
“It’s fine.” The damned tremor was back in my voice. Jesus Christ—what was I even doing here, pimping myself out to an armed man with glowing eyes who thought he could hypnotize me to... to... do what, exactly?
“All right,” he said. “You want answers.”
My temper snapped. “Of course I want answers! There are people with glowing eyes, and glowing magic, and... and guns... and... I just slapped a guy who acted really nice to me on my first night as an escort!”
Silence echoed. Crap... I really hadn’t meant for that last part to slip out.
After a beat, Leonides cleared his throat. “Right. Answers. So, magic is real, as you’ve probably realized after that little display downstairs. Fae and demons and vampires exist. They... don’t always get along, to put it mildly. What you saw was the opening salvo in some kind of new turf war, I guess—hopefully a small one. Honestly, though, I’m more interested right now in what’s going on with your necklace. I should have been able to make you forget what happened. And you shouldn’t have been able to pull a gun on that asshole when he was using his supernatural mojo on you.”
I stared at him. “Vampires. And... demons.”
“And Fae,” he added, still watching me closely. “Like the guy downstairs with the attitude problem, in fact.”
I nodded slowly, my mind smoothing into a comforting blank as it overloaded. “And you are...?”
A pause. “Before I answer that, how close would you say you are to screaming hysteria right now? Like, on a scale of one to ten?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Five,” I decided, only to pause. “Maybe a six.” I chewed my bottom lip. “Seven, max?”
Leonides dragged a hand down his face, pulling at the skin. “Well, in that case—let’s just say that I’ve been on a liquid diet for the last few months. And I’m really not a morning person.”
THREE
SITTING VERY STILL and quiet, I mulled that over for a few moments. Yup, this was definitely rating a seven on the ‘screaming hysteria’ scale. Or... possibly an eight?
“Okay,” I said. “Night person, dark and mysterious. Glowing eyes. I guess I can kind of see it.” A frown tugged at my brow as a moment from earlier tonight drifted across my memory, unmoored from it previous context. “Hang on. When I was up here before, I asked you if you wanted a drink. You said ‘maybe later.’ Was that a quip about drinking my blood?”
He winced. “Um... yeah. Sorry about that. If it’s any consolation, it wouldn’t have been much, and I would have made sure you didn’t remember a thing afterward.”
My frown deepened into a full-blown scowl. “Just like I was supposed to forget about magic and believe you brought me up here after I had a dizzy spell?” I asked pointedly. “Or was it an attack of the vapors? I suddenly can’t recall.”
Leonides crossed his arms. “Yes, well—there’s been a slight change of plan on the memory erasing thing, obviously. Which, by the way, leads neatly back to the question of what the hell’s up with that necklace you’re wearing. I’m guessing the red glow isn’t an LED powered by hearing aid batteries.”
Stupidly, I craned down to look at the pendant in confusion. “Red glow?” Thinking about Mabel’s necklace reminded me exactly how much the little blistered patch on my skin was hurting, and I gingerly reached around to open the clasp so I could slip the chain off. “But it’s just a piece of garnet...”
Leonides regarded me with his head tilted, as though unsure if I was being serious or not. “It flared bright red several times downstairs, when the Fae was throwing his metaphysical weight around. And again, just now when I tried to mesmerize you.”
The words mesmerize you seemed to echo around the room.
Why are you sitting here shooting the breeze with a self-confessed vampire who hires escorts so he can drink their blood, prodded the slender thread of rationality still clinging to the back corner of my thoughts.
I stared at the irregular chunk of uncut crystal dangling from the chain in my fingers, pondering the question for a few moments.
“You know,” I said, “it’s a good thing I’m still half-convinced this is all a breakdown-induced hallucination, or I’d be out of here so fast these stiletto heels would leave scorch marks on your carpet.”
His eyes were a physical weight on me, but when he answered, his tone was edged with compassion. “And is that what you want?”
I tore my eyes away from Aunt Mabel’s necklace. “Uh... which part?”
“For this not to be real.”
Nonsensically, my mind flashed back to the restroom, dabbing at tears before they could spill over and ruin my makeup. Without warning, the same choking, burning feeling clawed its way up my throat—but this time, there was no convenient tissue dispenser to be found as the tears spilled over.
“Yes,” I whispered, thinking please, god, can I just wake up in my crappy apartment with Jace asleep in his room down the hall, in a world where I haven’t been reduced to selling my body for money?
Hell, at this point, I’d even be willing to let the whole ‘magic exists, bogeymen are real’ thing slide, if that’s what it took.
“Shit,” Leonides muttered, sounding like every other man ever caught unprepared to deal with a woman unexpectedly spouting waterworks. He fumbled in a jacket pocket, pulling out a folded lavender-colored handkerchief and handing it to me.
I accepted it—soft cotton that felt like it had been washed a thousand times until it was like velvet against my skin. There was no point in worrying about the makeup now. Not when there were so many other things to worry about.
“Wow, you’re a regular boy scout,” I managed unsteadily, trying to distract myself from, well, everything. “Two guns stashed in that suit, and you still find a spare pocket for an old-timey handkerchief?”
He didn’t smile, though I could hear that he tried to lighten his tone. “That’s me. I’ve even got a lighter stashed away somewhere. No lung cancer; no reason not to take up smoking again.”
I’d smelled the faint hint of tobacco hanging around him earlier—a secret weakness of mine, when it came to men.
“But no crucifixes, I’m guessing?” I asked, pushing the quip past the tremor in my voice.
“Definitely not,” he said. “Though probably n
ot for the reason you’re thinking.” There was old bitterness hidden beneath those words, but he moved on before I could devote any real thought to it. “Look. If you’re serious about wanting to forget tonight ever happened, I think we should test a theory.”
“Oh? What theory is that?” I asked warily.
He gestured at the necklace, now lying tangled in my lap. “That pendant obviously reacts whenever someone around you uses supernatural influence. But... is the power coming from it, or is the power coming from you?”
I blinked at him, feeling sticky mascara glop together. “You’re asking me like you expect me to know? You do realize that on top of a history of making really horrible life choices, I’m the one who’s presumably having a psychotic break right now?”
He shook his head. “All I’m saying is that if it’s the former, you could just set the thing down a few feet away, and let me try the ‘look into my eyes’ routine again. It should work this time.”
I turned that idea over. “And... if it does? Then you drink my blood?” My stomach turned over as I remembered the reason I was here in the first place. “Or have sex with me? Or... both?”
His expression closed off. “Yeah... I’m not actually big on sexual assault. Not even when I’m paying by the hour. I prefer to stick to partners who aren’t giving off the kind of ‘I don’t want to be here’ vibes you were rocking when you first arrived.” Full lips twisted downward. “And believe me when I say, after that shit-show downstairs, my appetite for dinner has been well and truly spoiled.”
I swallowed. “O-okay.”
The necklace had always been a comfort and a good luck charm, until now. But even so...
I gave it a slow rub between my thumb and forefinger, before setting it aside on the coffee table. “Go on, then. Make me forget.”
Lifting red-rimmed eyes to meet his dark ones, I prayed silently that I wasn’t about to wake up dead in a ditch after giving a self-confessed vampire the green light to hypnotize me. If I was worried about my mental state before, trusting this guy under these circumstances should have been a one-way ticket straight into the loony bin. And yet...
Vampire Bound: Book One Page 2
