Sucked In

by Charissa Dufour

  Chapter Two

  I finished the makeup and carefully put the mask on. It was emerald green with silver detailing and black and silver feathers that curled up over my head, almost like a crown. Josh had designed my hair style to let the feathers disappear into the curls. It was amazing; much better than anything I could have managed.

  I had just applied the last bobby pin when I heard the exterior door open and recognizable steps resounded up the narrow stairs.

  I gulped, forcing the lump down my throat. My stomach gave a little uncomfortable jump at the thought of seeing him again. I quickly ran through a few options for greetings. They all seemed flat and artificial.

  I moved out of the bathroom and settled on “Come in” before he could knock. Nik entered, wearing a very chic and modern-looking tuxedo. He stopped in his tracks to stare. I started wondering if something was terribly wrong—like a blood stain on my new gown.

  “Wow,” he sighed. “You look amazing.”

  “Err… thanks.” It didn’t feel like an adequate response to his compliment, but my muddled brain couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  I grabbed the black, elbow length gloves from the foot of my bed and followed him out the door. I slipped them on while heading for the bottom of the steps. When we reached the L-shaped courtyard of my apartment complex, he took my hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. It felt old fashioned and uncomfortably intimate.

  “I've missed you,” Nik said out of nowhere.

  He kept his voice soft; no doubt Josh had warned him how easily I startled. I nearly forgot to keep walking, I was so shocked. Though I realized he no longer hated me, I had no idea his feelings had transformed enough to actually miss me.

  “How have you been doing these last two months?” he asked when I didn't respond.

  I knew perfectly well that Josh had been reporting to Nik and Mikhail about my recovery.

  “Fine,” I stated flatly. I knew I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding my antagonism, but I couldn't find the energy to care. I couldn't seem to regain my old vampire vitality no matter how much blood I drank, and despite my recent snack, I felt drained.

  “I wish you'd come out to the mansion. I know Jordan and Chloe want to see you.”

  “Yeah... I should do that,” I agreed, trying to keep this from becoming a fight while not committing to anything.

  “How 'bout tomorrow night?”

  “Maybe. I'll have to see. I just finished another book, and I'm sure my publisher is gonna want to talk about it... a lot.”

  “Of course. Josh told me you were writing again. Using our experience for a plot?”

  My stomach did another little acrobatic flip. Was he not okay with me using our story?

  “Yeah. I hope that's okay. Initially, it was just to help me regain my memories. Josh helped a lot with the blank parts. But it turned out really good... and I think it could be a big turning point for me... as a writer. But only if you're okay with it,” I added in an effort to get myself to stop babbling.

  “Of course. It's fine. How's that going, by the way? The memory issue,” Nik asked as he opened the door to his very sleek Martin Vanquish.

  I tried not to remember the first time I'd gotten into his fancy car. He typically saved it for special occasions, though he'd been driving it when he was first assigned to keep me alive. Thankfully, it hadn't been destroyed like his Land Rover. This one, I was told, cost a lot more.

  “It's fine,” I responded as he slid into his own seat.

  He started the car and gently pressed down on the gas. His usual style of driving was “the faster the better,” but evidently he was not in a hurry. For once I wished he'd speed up. I glanced over in his direction. He looked uncomfortable and frustrated; I had no doubt my short answers were annoying him.

  “Josh says there are a lot of things you still can't remember.”

  I began to grind my teeth together but stopped when I realized he would be able to hear it. Was there anything Josh hadn't told him?

  I shrugged. “I'll get them back, eventually.”

  “And if you don't?”

  “Life'll go on. Not a lot I can do about it.”

  He nodded slowly, taking in what I had said. I knew it sounded like I was depressed, but really I was just pragmatic. If I couldn't regain those memories there wasn't a darn thing I, or anyone else, could do about it. So why fret? I had bigger issues, like my self-control, to consider.

  Josh and I had been working on it. He would wait until I was thirsty and drink a blood bag in front of me. These tests hadn't always ended well. Josh had endured a few bruises and even more curse words from me, but I was doing a little better.

  I glanced out the window; I focused on the tiny beads of moisture that appeared and condensed into a stream that flowed to the back of the car. Like any other December night, it was raining, though I thought I saw a few crunchy drops. Maybe it would snow tonight.

  The silence dragged on, but I didn't mind. It was better than talking with Nik. When we talked, we tended to fight. I heard Nik clear his throat, but I refused to look at him. I didn’t have the energy to fight, even with Nik. I didn’t want to talk, and really hoped he would take the hint.

  As if on cue, Nik asked: “So, what are you going to call the book?”

  “Not sure. Josh wants me to call it 'Sucked In', but I'm not sold on it.”

  I felt, more than saw, Nik nod as we pulled to a stop next to the restaurant. The sign reading “The Viewer’s Lounge” glowed above the glass doors. It was a rather posh watering hole that I had never been able to afford. In fact, I still couldn't. It was the front for the seethe and had clearly been closed down for the occasion. The doors were closed, with their glass panels covered in white silk so that we couldn't see inside. The short walk from the street to the door was covered in red carpet and protected from the Western Washington elements by a white canvas tent. Winding up the poles of the tent were many tiny Christmas lights swathed in delicate tulle, making the light even softer.

  Nik stopped at the entrance, being sure to come at it so that my door was at the curb. Two men with matching red vests jumped forward from a nondescript black tent hidden in the shadows. One raced to my door and helped me out, being sure to keep my dress from touching any puddles. I held my breath, knowing by his heartbeat that he was human. The other young man opened an umbrella and escorted Nik to the protective covering.

  Nikolai smiled down at me as he slipped my gloved hand into his arm again and whispered in my ear, “You ready?”

  “Why are there humans here?” I asked with what little breath I had left in my lungs.

  “I'm right here. I won't let you do anything naughty.”

  I could hear a smile in his voice, even though I was still staring at the men standing by the front doors in cheap, off-the-rack tuxes. They were doing a good job of ignoring our private conversation, even though it clearly concerned them. I swallowed, trying to force the first trickle of desire from rearing its ugly head.

  Nik nodded to them and one of them pressed a button on his earpiece. “She's here,” he said in a business voice.

  From inside the main room, I heard the music stop and the voices go silent. I swallowed again, this time out of nervousness. I hadn't realized exactly how central I was to this whole thing. Suddenly I felt like a debutante, and I wasn't enjoying it. The two men waited for a short pause before swinging the large doors open.

  If I hadn't already been holding my breath, it would have caught in my chest. The scene before me was beyond anything I'd ever seen. Gorgeous, decadent—but in a really morbid sort of way.