by Dannika Dark
“After college, they went their way and I went mine.”
His brows arched. “What college did you go to?”
“The School of Hard Knocks. That’s why we went our separate ways.”
“What about since? Surely you go out to lunch with the girls at work.”
I touched my pendant and tried to play it cool. I’d been telling people I worked at home doing telemarketing. “I never clicked much with girls, and guys can only be friends as long as they’re single. Once they get into a relationship, it’s sayonara. You know the story. She begins to wonder why he needs other female friends. Isn’t she enough? Then one day”—I snapped my fingers—“you’re out of his life.”
“Aww. I’ll be your friend, Simone. Cross my heart and hope to die that if I get married, she’ll just have to deal with it.”
I laughed and tapped my finger against my clutch. Boomer was probably listening in, so I decided to keep the conversation going since sitting alone looked suspicious. “Would you like me to buy you a beer? I’ve got a running tab.”
Chase reached inside his lightweight jacket and pulled out a flask. “Not necessary. I came prepared.”
I chuckled. “You sure that’s enough?”
He unscrewed the cap. “It’s pure moonshine. Ever had any?”
“Can’t say I have.”
He held it out. “Try some. It’ll make you feel all warm and tingly inside. Just don’t drink it all. I don’t always get lucky with free drinks around here, so this is my last resort.”
“How do I know it’s not poison?”
“Do I look like a murderer?”
“No, you look like an anime character.”
Chase gave an exasperated sigh and took a swig. He grimaced afterward and passed it over. “Smooth,” he rasped.
After a casual glance around, it came to my attention that Boomer was checking me out. He was sitting like most cocky men do—legs wide apart and one arm over the back of his chair. Something had certainly caught his attention over here, and it wasn’t the décor. Maybe the prospect of competition. Or maybe he was curious how easily influenced I was—a quality that probably made his job easier.
I lifted the drink. “I was born for adventure.” When I tilted the flask, the moonshine shot down the wrong pipe. Either that or it burned a hole through my esophagus. After a fit of coughing, I shoved it back in his hands. “That’s awful!”
“Yeah,” he agreed, screwing the cap back on. “My uncle makes decent money from his friends, and I get a free jug whenever I want.”
“What the hell would you want with a whole jug?”
He grinned. “Strips the paint right off my brushes.”
“That’s a bottle of bad life choices.”
“I don’t believe in bad decisions,” he said matter-of-factly.
Intrigued, I swiveled toward him with my feet anchored on the footrest of my stool. “If you danced naked on the bar and went to jail, you don’t think that would be a bad decision?”
He screwed the lid onto his flask and tucked it back in his coat. “What if I met my soul mate because of it? She might be one of the guards at the jail, and it’s love at first sight.”
I snorted. “Maybe in a porno, but not real life.”
“Okay then. What if dancing naked on the bar influences someone to stop drinking before they end up out of control like me, and as a result, they don’t drive home drunk and kill someone?”
“That’s too deep for a Wednesday.”
Chase slid off his stool and winked. “All in good fun. There’s a brunette inviting me over with her eyes, so I better check it out before she changes her mind. I hope the right guy comes along, Simone. But if not, maybe you need to grow a pair and go get what you want. See you when I see you.”
Chase swaggered off, disappearing through a sea of people. Maybe he had a point about choices. Sometimes bad choices led to good things. What if I was being too passive about this whole approach?
I shot out of my seat and strutted toward Boomer’s table, slow and sultry. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes beneath those damn shades, he shifted his hips as if he thought I might actually sit on his lap.
Dream on, buddy.
I swept my black tresses back, and when I reached the table, I circled my finger around the lip of his beer bottle. “Are you just going to sit there all night, or are you going to talk to me? I’m about to leave, so let me know if there’s a reason I should stay.”
He patted his thigh. “Come here, sweetie, and have a seat.”
I shuddered inside.
The other woman sitting at his table just stared between us, and I decided to rein it back a little in case she was one of those girls who liked to pull hair and fight over worthless men.
“I better not,” I said, noticing the woman beside him and quickly looking down as if embarrassed. “I didn’t realize you already had company. I’m not usually so forward—this was such a mistake.”
As I walked away with my tail between my legs, the music switched over to a slow-thumping beat that had people who weren’t even on the dance floor moving sexily.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he called out from behind me.
Excited I’d finally gotten a bite, I kept moving until I was outside. The frosty air against my flushed skin was a welcome reprieve from the stuffy club. The open space gave me plenty of room to flash if things got out of hand, but revealing I wasn’t human was a last resort.
Boomer appeared and took my arm. “Where are you going so fast?”
“My ride should be here any minute. Look, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot in there. I had too much to drink.”
Wasn’t that the truth? I widened my eyes to put him in focus.
He circled in front of me and rested his gloved hands on my bare shoulders. “I noticed you.”
A chill ran down my spine, and I forced a smile.
“I remember you. A few nights ago, you were sitting at the bar, weren’t you?”
“You noticed me?”
“Couldn’t help but notice those pretty eyes of yours.”
Oh, yeah. This guy was a smooth talker all right.
“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” he offered. “It’ll give us a chance to talk. What’s your name?”
“Simone. I really shouldn’t. We don’t know each other.”
Yet it sounded like the best idea ever. What better way to get information on this guy? And people go home with strangers they meet at the club all the time. It’s the whole purpose of hooking up.
He led me through the parking lot, arm protectively around me. “I might look like a mean old grizzly, but I’m a teddy bear.”
“Do you come here a lot?”
“It gives me something to do. Not many bars around here have the kind of girls I like.”
“What kind is that?”
I nearly slipped, but he held me tight.
“Naïve. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but it’s hard to find a sweet girl in a city like this. All the dames out there are jaded and bitter. I thought you were like the rest of them until you came up to my table. Girls don’t get shy like that unless they’re one of the good ones.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you wear those sunglasses?”
“It’s my trademark.”
It suddenly dawned on me that I’d left my clutch on the bar. Dammit! That stupid eyeliner pencil was my only weapon, though in all likelihood, it probably wasn’t even real wood, let alone the type of wood that would paralyze him. At least he couldn’t shadow walk in a lit parking lot.
I stopped in my tracks and gave him a loaded glance. Nope. Don’t even think about it, Raven. A Vampire can snap your arm in two.
Instead of sucker punching him and removing the shades, I reached up and cupped his furry face. His hair was a little darker than his beard—a dirty-blond with chestnut roots. Boomer didn’t resist my touch but fell into it. When I reached up and pulle
d on his glasses, he caught my wrists.
“I don’t like people touching those.”
“I like to look in a man’s eyes when I’m talking to him.”
Boomer forced my hands down. I did a circle maneuver that broke his grip and quickly plucked off his shades.
He bellowed and tried to grab them, but the glasses snapped in two. Before I knew what was happening, Boomer knocked me to the ground.
“You bitch!”
Couldn’t men come up with a more original word?
When I looked up at him, his lips peeled back in a snarl. Green eyes flashed back at me, and now I finally understood why he wore those damn shades.
Boomer wasn’t a Vampire. He was cross-eyed.
Headlights beamed on us, and someone moved in like a blur, shoving Boomer back several feet.
“What gives you the right?” the man shouted.
Boomer gave me the finger and stalked off, cursing under his breath.
When the stranger turned around, I recognized Chase and his stark white hair. Who would have thought that this guy would turn out to be the hero of the evening?
He knelt down beside me. “Did he hit you?”
“I slipped.”
“Bullshit.” He noticed the broken sunglasses. “I hope you got at least one good punch in.”
I wiped my wet hands on my leather pants. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t believe in violence.”
His lips twitched. “Let me help you up.”
I flicked a glance back at the club and saw Christian lingering by the door. I briefly held eye contact with him. “I’m fine. No need to make a fuss.”
Chase helped me to my feet and brushed flecks of ice off my shirt. “What a creep. Did he follow you out here or something?” Chase took my hand and turned it over. “Shit. You’re bleeding.”
Sure enough, the concrete had scraped a gash on the side of my hand. Nothing serious, but Chase was giving it his full attention. I’d forgotten how adorable humans could be.
“I’m ready to go, but I left my purse somewhere inside.”
I wasn’t talking to Chase, but he didn’t know that. Inside my clutch were also several hundred dollars and a phone I didn’t want to lose. Christian headed back in the building to find my things so we could leave.
Chase led me toward the passenger side of his car and opened the door. After opening the glove compartment, he pulled out a little first aid kit. “Here, take a seat and I’ll fix that up before it gets infected.”
“Really, it’s fine.”
“People spit, piss, and vomit in this parking lot all the time. The snow just brings it all up. Do you really want that all over your hands?”
On that note, I sat down facing Chase while he fumbled through the box, bandages littering the asphalt.
“I just want to help,” he said, trying to hold the box under one arm while he tore open a package with his teeth. “I can’t see what I’m doing. Let me come around the other side so I can put this stuff down and sit under the interior light.”
After I put my feet in, he closed the door and circled round the front. The headlights beamed on him, and it looked like he’d managed to get the wrapper off the antiseptic wipe. When he got in the car, he shoved the kit on the dash and held the wet cloth between two fingers.
“Sorry this happened,” he said.
“You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe it was. Remember what I said about choices? If I hadn’t run off to flirt with that brunette, you wouldn’t have gone off with that guy.”
“Did you get lucky?”
He gingerly held my wrist and ran the antiseptic wipe across the wound. “She wanted me to buy her a drink.”
I laughed. “Serves you right. Don’t you ever get tired of this?”
“Of what? Looking for love in all the wrong places?”
“Something like that. Why not meet a girl through friends or in a café?”
“This is the only place where there are no strings attached. Sometimes all a man wants is company. I come here knowing exactly what I want, and I don’t have to look hard. The world is my oyster, Simone. I’m just looking for the pearl.”
“Or trying to make a pearl necklace.”
He gave me a cross look.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said with a laugh. “You don’t like strings attached, and it doesn’t sound like you’re looking for just one pearl.”
He placed a large bandage over the cut and smoothed the adhesive around the edges. When he finished, he switched on the radio and turned the volume all the way up, but nothing played. Chase grimaced and closed his door.
One thing I’d learned during my trips to the club was that I needed to brush up on my conversation skills. I got along with humans fine but sometimes lost my filter.
“Well, I should get going. Thanks for the first aid. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
He smiled warmly at me. “Already have.”
I held his gaze, transfixed by his hazel eyes. “You’re sweet, but I’m not your type.”
“You’ve always been my type. Would you like to leave this place?”
I felt a strong urge to get as far away from the club as possible. “Yes.”
“Buckle up, and I’ll be your driver.”
I leaned in, my thoughts hazy. “Do I know you?”
Chase laughed and peeled out of the parking lot. “You always ask me that.”
Chapter 12
Christian watched Raven strutting away from the bar toward the plonker with wraparound shades. Clearly the dolt was interested, but Raven got impatient and moved in on her prey.
What he couldn’t figure out was why the feck she walked away from him. But when Boomer rose from his chair, Christian realized it was all part of the plan. Women were devious like that. They must have all attended secret classes on how to drive men wild.
While listening to their conversation in the parking lot, he almost stepped in when Raven agreed to get in the fellow’s car. Being confined in a vehicle with a Vampire reduced her chances of escape, but Raven was a clever girl, and he wanted to see where this led. Christian dipped into the shadows, allowing her to do what she did best—lure men into her trap.
As the scene unfolded, it turned out that Boomer was human.
Dead end.
Christian heard the disappointment in her voice. Raven’s insatiable need to punish her own kind baffled him. It unquestionably had to do with her maker tricking her into this life and then abandoning her, but why couldn’t she have hated her Mage side instead? Some people were wired that way—blaming the one they trusted more than the abuser. The child hating their mother for turning a blind eye on an abusive father. There was no right or wrong way to hate, and what Raven couldn’t spare for her Mage Creator, Christian would happily donate.
What he wouldn’t give to get his hands on that shitebag who’d kept her prisoner. Because she’d taken his surname, that meant her Creator was Fletcher Black. Either it wasn’t his true name, or he worked under an alias, because Christian’s search came up empty. The Breed world was a monstrous place, and those not fortunate enough to be recruited through the Council’s approval process were often brought in illegally as slaves. The man had wounded Raven’s soul in a way that couldn’t be undone, but her fears kept her searching for a parallel enemy.
A human trying to play hero stopped his car in front of Raven and Boomer before getting out and shooing off the cross-eyed dunderhead. Christian was about to follow Boomer and charm him into thinking he was a cartoon mouse named Speedy, but then Raven mentioned she’d left her purse inside.
He cursed under his breath and went to grab it so they could be on their way. Viktor would murder them if they lost another phone.
Christian passed a few women he’d wasted hours flirting with—women he didn’t find attractive. And wasn’t that astonishing? Surrounded by gorgeous, desperate women, and all he could think about was Raven in those d
elicious leather pants, all covered up with just her bare shoulders visible. Shoulders he wanted to put his mouth on and taste.
Jaysus. He hadn’t felt this tortured over a woman in ages. Perhaps he was a glutton for punishment.
After a thorough search around the bar, he called over the bartender. When Christian described the sparkly clutch, the young fella reached under the bar and handed it over. Just as he turned away, a piercing sound filled the room like a steady fire alarm. Something must have gone haywire with the sound system. It was so penetrating that voices around him muffled. Tuning out the noise proved impossible without muting everything. With one finger plugged in his ear, he staggered toward the front door. As he took a final look over his shoulder, his hair stood on end.
Why was everyone in the club still dancing? Not one person was covering their ears or looking around in bewilderment. Maybe it was only loud to him because of his Vampire ears.
The sound didn’t switch off but faded. Christian jogged over to the spot he’d last seen Raven and turned in a circle, scanning the parking lot with his eyes and ears for the familiar sound of her heartbeat. But the only thing he heard was crystallized ice crunching beneath his boots. Bandages littered the ground, and a few drops of Raven’s blood stained the dirty snow where she’d fallen.
Had she really gone off with that shitebag? It hadn’t escaped his notice that the punk had bumped into her a few times during their visits over the past week. And tonight she’d struck up a conversation with him—even offered to buy that dry shite a drink. The hero act was probably the icing on the cake.
Christian stirred with jealousy. Something about Raven made him uncharacteristically possessive, and right now it felt as if that human cocktail had taken something that was his.
He stormed back to his car.
I shouldn’t have gone to Bulgaria, he thought. Time had little significance to a Vampire, but Raven was new, and so she had no real sense of her immortality. She was still a youngling in his eyes, and his prowess as a killer would only ruin her for good. Her exploits in five years paled in comparison to his lifetime of misdeeds. Maybe in that short time apart she’d reconsidered their agreement. Maybe he wasn’t giving her what she really wanted.
