“Sure thing. Have a good time, Boss.”
Brad took his seat in the control room and Derek left.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing if he started delegating more. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d taken a night off.
As he walked out of his basement office, Derek decided to see how things worked out with Brad before he made any rash decisions.
He settled into the leather car seat, cocooned in a pocket of wealth. It purred to life when he turned the key, bringing a smile to his face. He drove his pride and joy, a Midnight Blue Aston Martin Vanquish S, through the deserted streets. Damn, he loved this car. It was a quiet time of the night. All of the families were snug in their homes, while the singles hadn’t yet made it out on the town. In a few hours, the streets in the club district would be crawling with people.
As it was, Derek found a spot right in front of the club. The bouncers, some paranormal creatures, mostly just oversized mortals, were just setting up the velvet ropes for the mortals who would try to get in later that night. They let Derek in with nothing more than a nod. His reputation preceded him.
Even though the night was young, the lights were low and music pounded inside the club. Club Insomnia might have been a bit of a cliché name for a place that catered primarily to creatures of the night, but beings like him, beings that most of the world didn’t want to believe existed, loved the irony.
His eyes very quickly adjusted to the dim lighting. Immediately he could tell there weren’t any humans in the place yet. The air was full of supernatural beings. He could sense a horde of vampires, a couple of werewolves and more.
Derek smiled and headed off toward the bar. He wanted to get a better feel of who was there tonight.
He was sick and tired of thinking about the girl, the key. He was here tonight to get laid. Hopefully he’d be able to find a nice she-wolf in heat who would keep him occupied so long he’d be lucky to remember his own name by the time he was finished. But as he picked his way through the sparse crowd toward the bar, no one drew him.
Frankly, no one appealed to him even in the slightest. He just couldn’t get that damn girl out of his head.
A young vampire he’d never seen before worked behind the bar. "What can I get for you?" the kid asked.
“Just a beer.”
The vampire simply nodded his head and started pouring the drinks.
“You’re new here,” Derek said.
The kid nodded again.
“You’re newly turned, too.”
“Right again.”
“How’s it...you know...are you okay?”
Derek didn’t know what drew him to ask. He may have been the ruler of the night, but he usually didn’t get intimately involved. Damn woman was making him act very unlike himself.
For the first time the junior vamp actually met his eyes. "You know, you're the first one to ask me that."
“And?”
“It’s pretty cool,” he said, finishing pouring the beer with a perfect head. “I mean, it sucks that I can’t tell any of my old friends. I'm from New York. They all think I’m dead. But I’ll make new friends here in Chicago, so it’s all cool.”
Another customer called from the end of the bar.
“Duty calls,” he said and handed over the drink. “Thanks for asking.”
Derek just grunted a thanks for the drink and threw an extra couple of bucks down on the bar for a tip.
A more useful tip would have been to tell the kid that things don’t get easier or better or anything. That being a creature most people didn’t believe in was no way to exist. Hell, Derek was one of a handful of creatures that was actually born this way. He’d grown up as a creature that most people would kill rather than believe existed. Trust didn’t come easily and he’d be surprised if he had a half dozen friends he could count on in an emergency. Aside from maybe Brad, most people would sooner spit in his direction than help him.
Perhaps it was his position, perhaps it was just because he was a bastard. Regardless, he’d stopped caring a long time ago.
But he wasn’t here to feel sorry for himself. Pushing the melancholy mood out of his mind, he picked up the drink and made his way back across the bar.
A busty she-wolf brushed against him. "Good evening."
She was stunning, there was no denying that. Her tits were offered up on a platter. She was dressed in all black leather and the dusky brown of her nipples peeked out above the top of her corset. Invitation was clear in her eyes.
“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past her.
Damn it, what was wrong with him?
He was here to get some. A perfectly satisfactory woman, barely dressed at that, came on to him and he ignored her.
He needed to get Gwen out of his mind.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” the she-wolf asked, obviously upset by his rebuff.
Why was everyone asking him that lately? There was nothing wrong with him. So he had an interaction with a girl. And so what if he couldn’t manage to get her out of his mind. There wasn’t anything wrong with him.
“It’s nothing. I’ve just been working too hard,” he said aloud to himself.
It wasn’t a lie. There was a time when he would have been at the bar every night. But not anymore. Now he was just restless. Work didn’t satisfy him like it once had. But that was a problem because he didn’t have anything else but work. He couldn’t.
He was the freaking King of Darkness.
Chapter Two
Gwen looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She certainly didn’t look like the woman who usually spent her days in paint spattered tee shirts and jeans. And she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable in this getup or not.
One of her artist friends had told her about Club Insomnia. It seemed as good a place as any to wile away the hours that she couldn’t spend sleeping. Apparently this club stayed open all night, well until the morning hours when the sun came up.
Finishing her look with a touch-up of ruby red lipstick, she stepped back.
Thank God, no one she knew would be seeing her like this. They would know she was just playing dress up.
Spinning in front of the mirror, though, she realized that she looked good. Damn good.
The leather dress fit her to perfection. It laced up the front, showing a good deal of skin though the laces. It hugged her curves and then flared out at the bottom. The skirt came to mid-thigh. All she wore underneath was a matching leather thong. It came with the dress. She never would have bought the thong herself. Who would have guessed it would be as comfortable as it was.
The only other things she wore were super-high fuck me shoes.
She’d straightened her long white blonde hair so that it was almost to her waist. She was going to have fun tonight. All night. She wouldn’t come home before the sun came up. She couldn’t.
Grabbing her keys and the small black purse, and wrapping herself in a thick wool shawl, she left her apartment for the drive across town.
She wasn’t looking to get lucky tonight. But if she had the opportunity to kill a couple of hours of the night that way, she’d do it.
When she got to the club, she was surprised to find it mostly empty. She looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was eleven-thirty. She’d been expecting to have to wait in a long line to get in the club. Unless there was another entrance, it didn’t seem like she’d have any trouble at all getting in.
She swung her used Volkswagen into the parking lot across the street and carefully parked next to an impressive dark blue Aston Martin. She paused in the parking lot to admire the sleek lines of the car with her artist’s eye. She didn’t think cars like that existed outside of the movies.
She crossed the street and was instantly granted access to the club.
Stepping inside was like stepping into another world. Gwen didn’t go to clubs often, but when she did, she was more likely to head off to some hoity-toity martini bar with some of her artist friends. This was lik
e nothing she’d ever seen before.
The interior was dark and lights pulsed around the room. Most everyone in the club was dressed in leather, so she fit right in. She smiled as she made her way through the throng of people.
It was definitely a different crowd than she was used to. But strangely, it seemed like the club was filled with all different kinds of people. Well, all different people who were stunningly beautiful and overtly sexual. The sexual energy in the club was undeniable.
She made her way to the bar.
“What can I get you?” The bartender looked barely old enough to drink himself.
She looked up and down the bar at the various concoctions.
“How about one of those red smoking things,” she said as she spotted an incredibly tall woman carrying a large blood-red drink.
“A smoking cauldron? Sure thing.” He winked at her before turning to make the over-sized drink.
Several people stared at her as she stood waiting. A man a few spots down the bar from her looked her appreciatively up and down. While she couldn’t say she was attracted to him, she felt herself warming at his obvious interest.
“Here you go.” The young man brought her drink to her. It was even bigger than it had looked.
“Thanks,” she said. “How much do I owe you?”
“I got it.”
She turned her head to see the man from her nightmare. His smile, bordered on both sides by deep dimples, was infectious, but she couldn’t quite manage to work one up. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach and bile rose in her throat.
She wanted to scream, but was held captive by his light blue eyes. Every instinct in her body screamed out for her to run. To get the hell out of there. But her feet were rooted to the spot.
Her eyes searched the bar frantically for someone to help her, but no one seemed to be paying her the least bit of attention. The pounding bass, which was fun when she walked in, was now torture as this man in front of her filled all of her senses.
And then she knew nothing else as her world went black.
* * * *
His voice washed over her.
He wasn’t whispering erotic nothings like he had been in her previous dream. This time he was swearing.
“Damn it. Bring her drink, and a refill for me, to the corner booth.”
While she didn’t really understand the words, there was no mistaking the erotic feel of his fingers on her body. At first her arm tingled where his hands touched her. Slowly he wrapped his arm around her waist. Then, finally, his hands slipped under her knees and she was lifted off her feet.
She couldn’t help herself. She leaned into him, into his neck, inhaling deeply. He smelled like woodsy cologne and man.
“Mmmm,” she moaned into his neck.
And while burrowed against his chest, wrapped around him, she couldn’t help herself and took a little nip of his neck.
She hadn’t realized they were moving until he faltered a bit.
“Are you taking me to the bedroom?”
His body shook as a laugh coursed through his body. "I'm taking you to a private booth," he said.
“But...I want what you gave me last time,” she moaned. “Except this time I want your cock. I want to taste you.”
“Fuck, woman, you’re going to kill me,” he said. He hitched her up higher in his grasp, though she could still feel the hardness of his cock pressing against her.
She stuck her tongue out and ran it up the vein in his neck. He shivered. That response gave her the courage to do more. After all, this was only a dream.
She slid her hand down his chest. She could feel the hard planes of his muscle, his pecs were well defined. And, as she ran her hands over him, his nipples pebbled underneath his shirt. She wriggled herself around and slid her hand lower, over the six-pack of abs, until she was just about to touch his cock.
“No, you don’t,” he said. He lowered her to a leather seat and grabbed her hand before she could make contact with his cock. The next thing she expected to feel was his strength lowering over her. But there was nothing.
She lay still, anticipating what he was going to do next.
“Are you sure she’s okay?”
Who was that? He wasn’t inviting other people, was he? She didn’t think she was okay with that. Not yet anyway. She wanted him to herself first.
“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s not out completely. I think she’s going to be more embarrassed than anything when she wakes up.”
Wakes up?
She knew this was a dream, so why would she be embarrassed?
When she felt the seat finally bow, she smiled and reached her arms out. "Please come to me," she begged.
But he didn’t. Sure, she felt his hand on her forehead, but that wasn’t the touch she was truly craving.
“It’s time to open your eyes. Time to wake up completely.”
But she didn’t want to wake up. He wouldn’t be there if she woke up. She wasn’t afraid of this dream. "But you won't be there when I wake up."
“Sure I will. I’ll be right here.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
* * * *
When Gwen’s eyes snapped open, she expected to see the familiar soothing blue walls of her bedroom. Instead, what came into focus was a dark, smoky club, and staring down at her was a very familiar pair of green eyes. She'd drawn them numerous times over the past weeks.
“I’m still dreaming.”
His face split into a wry grin.
“I’m afraid not.”
She blinked a few times as memories of the past several hours came rushing back. She’d woken up at dusk, spent some time at home and then decided to come to the club alone. She remembered the kick-ass car in the parking lot. And the very last thing she remembered was ordering a drink.
She tried to sit up, but found that her head was pounding.
“Easy,” he said, cradling her and helping her to a sit up.
Wherever his hands touched her, it felt like a million lightening bolts striking her skin.
Once she was sitting up and felt somewhat stable, she said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, at the same time scooting away from her a bit. “It’s warm in here, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t that warm, and she was underdressed in her leather dress. She assumed he must be making excuses.
Although now that she noticed, she was getting warmer with him being so close. She eyed her big drink warily.
“I’m not sure if I need that more or less than I did a few minutes ago.”
He didn’t say anything. Simply shrugged.
Odd, but she would have imagined her dream man come to life would have been more talkative. Figuring her evening couldn’t really get much more bizarre, she leaned forward and took a long sip through the silly straw in her drink. Her eyes were mesmerized, watching the concoction zoom through the swirls in the straw until eventually the tangy flavor exploded on her tongue.
The drink was good, but potent. She felt of the warmth of the alcohol spread through her body.
She shivered and remembered the blond man from her dream. When she remembered him talking to her before her world went black, her stomach turned.
“Are you all right? Maybe you shouldn’t drink that.”
She shook her head, trying to refocus. She reached out and touched his face. The hair of his goatee was prickly against her hands.
“I’m Gwen.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m Derek.”
“Derek,” she said, tasting the words on her tongue. “How are you real?”
When she moved her hand to his neck, he flinched. His pulse beat frantically there. She could feel her own pulse increasing in response. Her fingers brushed over the seam of his mouth.
He shivered and pulled away. Had she caused that reaction? While she would have loved to explore more lines and planes of his face, she couldn’t deny the reaction pleased her. Well, she would have pre
ferred had he not moved away, but power coursed through her at the fact she could have any effect on him at all. A smile played on her lips.
Maybe he’d been right before when he said it was hot in here, because she felt like she was about to spontaneously combust. And she needed to touch him. Feel him.
Ever so slowly, she leaned forward, her mouth nearing his, a centimeter at a time. They were just a breath apart, breathing the same air.
Then Derek pulled away.
She felt the rejection so strongly it was like a slap across her face.
“Uh, I’m sorry. But with you just passing out...I don't think it's such a good idea.”
She nodded and took another sip of her drink. She couldn’t look at him. Embarrassment filled her.
“Do you want to die?”
“What?” Her head snapped around to his. She didn’t know what she expected to see, but it wasn’t the nervous smile he had on his face. “What did you say?”
“I asked if you wanted to dance.”
Was her mind playing tricks on her, or was this something more? Was this man, despite the obvious attraction, going to be her death? She felt so comfortable with him, so safe. But she knew she couldn’t be too careful.
Still, the promise of dancing held a certain appeal. She’d get to feel his hard body against her as she swayed to the music.
“Okay.
He slid out of the booth and let her do the same before he grabbed her hand. It was surprisingly cold.
She followed as he made his way through the crowded club. For not having a line outside, there sure were a lot of people inside. She grasped his hand tightly so they didn’t get separated.
When they reached a dark corner, he paused and turned to her.
“Is this okay?”
At the moment, he could lead her into the bowels of hell and she wouldn’t object.
“Fine.”
He smiled a kind of half smile. He held out his arms and she eagerly stepped into his embrace. His body was just as cold as his hands. Still, she couldn’t keep herself from snuggling deeper into his embrace.
His arms wrapped around her. She could feel the chill radiating off him through her black leather. She’d expected him to be warmer, but she didn’t mind sharing body heat. She wrapped her arms tighter around him. They swayed together as the lights flashed around them.
EDGE OF NIGHT Page 10
