by RK Close
Cheers erupt from the bar. Sean has arrived and is in rare form as he twirls glasses in the air with one hand while pouring a drink with the other. He is amazing to watch.
What a ham.
“I need to talk to someone regarding my case. Do you mind if I see you when I get home?” I ask, beginning to stand.
“Not at all. Would you like me to accompany you?” He stands with me.
Nope. That will not help when I question Sean. It’s going to be awkward as it is. This situation is new territory for Sean and me. Not to mention, he will now know what I do for a living. Only Russell, who’s like a father to me, and my best friend, Dayna, know what I do. Dayna is also dating Jacob, another vampire and Adam’s closest friend.
Like I said, there is no going back to normal for me. I don’t even know where to find it anymore.
“Thanks, Adam. But I think it would be best if I didn’t have a bodyguard with me when I talk to this person. I’ll see you later.” I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm. I turn back, a question on my face, and he pulls me to him, brushing my hair behind my ear before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on my open mouth. The tenderness of his kiss surprises me. I stare at him when he releases me and walks away without another word.
When he’s out of sight, I reach up and touch my mouth where I can still feel his lips. Just when I think I’ve figured him out…
I move to another table that has a good view of the bar and watch as Sean works the crowd. He’s unbelievably charismatic and could charm a snake, no doubt. As I observe him in action, he flirts with every girl at the bar including the waitresses. Even the men regard him with respect and admiration. Smiling, I watch him do his thing.
There is a moment when he looks up from his work and our eyes meet. He seems to pause as if caught off guard, then a brilliant smile spreads across his handsome face. Sean wears a five-o-clock shadow like nobody’s business.
A warm smile spreads across my face as I raise my glass in greeting. He’s wiping his hands with a bar towel while saying something to the other bartender before making his way across the room.
Sean stops in front of me, crosses his arms over his chest, and grins down at me. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Beautiful?”
Blushing, I say, “Hello, Sean. Would you have a few minutes to talk to me?”
His smile becomes more brilliant, if that’s even possible, as he takes the chair next to me.
“I’ve been waiting almost two years for you to give me the time of day, Sam. Why the change of heart?”
My face heats up when I realize Sean misunderstands my motives. “This is business, Sean. You see, I’m a private investigator, and I’m working on a missing person case that you might be able to help me with.”
His facial expressions go from confusion to realization before settling on wary. His entire demeanor changes as the muscles in his jaw tighten, his eyes narrow, and his flirty persona disappears. In its place is one of caution. He’s nervous and maybe defensive. This behavior is odd since I haven’t told him what my case is.
Where did my favorite Irish bartender go?
4
Killer Smile
I’ve always said Sean has a killer smile. Unfortunately, he’s not sharing it with me now.
“What do you want to ask me, Sam? And why do you think I can help you with your case?” he asks in a flat, deep voice that doesn’t sound like his. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
Sean also has a lovely Irish brogue and plenty of charm and charisma to go around.
“I don’t know if you are aware, but a friend of yours has gone missing, and I’ve been hired to find her.” I watch his reaction carefully. He scans the room before returning his gaze to me.
Tattoos cover both of his arms, with some that crawl up his neck and peek out of his collar. His ink is intricate and well done.
I’ve always wondered how much of his body is covered in art. This particular moment is not the time to be thinking about that. I mentally shake myself.
“This is about Madison. Did her parents hire you?” he asks, running his hands through his dark hair.
Now Sean’s body is taut as if he’s ready to do battle or flee. Most people probably wouldn’t notice the vein that has begun to bulge in his temple or that his arm and neck muscles have tightened. I’m not “most people,” and I think he just realized that.
A waitress walks over to ask him something but before she can speak he snaps, “Not now, Lisa.” With a stunned, hurt look, she turns abruptly and returns to the bar.
I decide to move this along. “Yes, do you have any idea where Madison might be?”
His eyes appear rimmed in gold, but it could be a trick of the light.
He hasn’t moved since I told him what I do for a living, and his eyes bore into me as though I’m suddenly his enemy. The sudden chill in the air makes me uneasy.
“Why do you think I’d know where she is?”
The white sleeves of his collared shirt are always rolled up to his elbows, and Sean often wears a vest with jeans. This must be his standard bartender attire, as he wears this look well.
“How did you know it was Madison who was missing?” I counter.
Sean’s darkly attractive, with a beautiful, lean athletic body and hair that’s almost black. He sports a permanent five o’clock shadow that still looks clean-cut, and his eyes are so dark you can’t tell he has pupils. It gives him an exotic look at times.
“I know she’s missing. I’ve heard from someone who knows her.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Who told you she was missing?” I ask.
When he doesn’t answer, I ask, “When did the two of you date?” And was it during the same period you’ve been asking me out, I wonder?
“You can’t call it dating, Sam. We rolled in the hay a few times. We didn’t date,” he says in a flat voice.
“Her family thought you were involved. Why would they believe that?” I ask, leaning forward.
He leans forward so that we are very close. “I don’t know, Sam. But I do know they don’t like me. I think you should stay away from this case. Better yet, stay away from the Taylors.” The tone of his voice tells me he’s dead serious. Leaning back in my chair, I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Why would you say that? What’s your beef with the Taylors?”
With a defeated look, he says, “Listen, Sam. I like you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. You don’t know what you’re dealing with. Just take my advice and leave this one alone.”
“Are you threatening me, Sean? Because that sounded like a threat.” I narrow my eyes at him, thinking that I don’t know Sean O’Donnell at all.
“No. Not me. You just don’t understand, and I can’t give you more than that. I’m sorry,” Sean says, standing to leave. I remain seated, watching him thoughtfully. I do believe Sean has dismissed me.
Without warning he’s leaning over me, with both hands on my thighs. I gasp. He’s so close that our noses are almost touching.
“Don’t be a fool, Sam. Leave it alone,” he says, and I can feel his warm breath on my face.
I don’t flinch when I say, “I can’t do that.”
He eases back, giving me a sad look, then turns and walks back to the bar.
Sean is not going to be helpful. He’s also just become my number one suspect. My heart feels heavy and troubled. This is not how I expected this meeting to go.
***
There’s an unpleasant feeling in my stomach following my confrontation with Sean. I decide to call it a night and head home. I’ve always liked him, but the notion that he could have been threatening me feels wrong on so many levels. At the very least he’s hiding something.
My car is parked on a side street, just off Mill Avenue where I parked before sunset. Turning down the dark empty street, I know that I should have parked in the public garage. By the light of day, the road wasn’t nearly as ominous.
Ariz
ona is not known for its abundance of street lamps. Once I leave the bright shops and restaurants of Mill Avenue, I feel uneasy with my dark surroundings.
In the past, I might not have thought too much about it, but now I know what’s lurking in the night.
I feel confident that I could handle a human attacker, having several years of boxing and martial arts under my belt. Vampires are another story. They have an unfair advantage. I’m also painfully aware that I’m not carrying my dagger or pendant tonight.
My friend Gabe gave me a knife that used to belong to his mother. Both he and his mother were Hunters. Rumored to be blessed by one of the “angels of old,” the dagger will kill a vampire if it touches their heart. Other, less fatal wounds will take a long time to heal and leave a nasty scar as a memento.
The pendant looks like a piece of trendy jewelry, but on closer study, its age is apparent. Gabe loaned me his family heirlooms to protect me from a sadistic vampire who decided I was going to be his newest toy. The pendant repels any vampire who means me harm. And when I say “repels,” I mean like sends them flying across the room. It’s impressive.
Unfortunately, I have neither with me. Not that I’m expecting a vampire to greet me around every corner. But after all I’ve been through, it would suck so bad to die at the hands of some random vampire. Obviously, I’m now a supernatural magnet.
Then again, maybe I rubbed elbows with nonhumans before without ever being the wiser.
The heels of my shoes click noisily on the sidewalk, echoing off the empty office buildings as I make my way to my car. I begin digging my keys out of my purse while keeping my eyes and ears alert.
A noise to my left grabs my attention. I turn my head in that direction. There’s a dark alley between two buildings, and I squint into the darkness even as I frantically search for my keys.
There’s no movement in the shadows, but I know I heard something.
A low, deep growl breaks the silence, and my heart rate kicks into high gear. Deep in the alley two red glowing eyes peer back at me.
My fingers finally connect with my keys, and I turn to run the last few feet to my car. The eyes begin to move closer, the growl sounding louder as time seems to slow down. Finally reaching my car, I fumble to unlock the door. I’m shaking so bad my hand can’t manage the key, and I look up to see what horror is emerging from the alley.
My fear is just about to choke me when an average-sized dog runs from the alley and down the street. What the heck!
My relief is so great I almost cry. Finally, I get the car unlocked and slide behind the wheel. My imagination is working overtime with all this talk about werewolves. Jeez!
I’m preparing to pull away from the curb when I notice something on my windshield. Setting the safety brake, I get out of the car and pick up a black rose tucked under my wiper blades. How odd.
It’s hauntingly beautiful in its darkness. Could Adam have left it for me? The rose could be his sort of romance. Kind of fitting that it wouldn’t be something normal or average coming from a vampire.
Admiring it thoughtfully, I bring it to my nose and breathe deeply of its aroma. It has a strong, sweet scent. Smiling to myself, I get back in the car and place the rose on the dash so that it doesn’t get ruined before I make it home.
Dating a vampire is going to be different.
5
Stolen Kisses
“When do I get an invitation to see your new pad?” I ask over my coffee cup.
“Anxious, are we?” Adam says, scrolling through his smartphone.
It’s rare to see him use his phone. I’ve observed him making a call or two but never texting or surfing the web. Watching a five-hundred-year-old vampire using twenty-first century technology is almost comical. I laugh, despite my best effort not to. He gives me a questioning look.
Shaking my head, I say, “Nothing, just a funny thought. I am anxious to see your decorating style.”
Men typically don’t know a thing about décor, which means most bachelor pads are just that: a pad with no concern or thought for anything but the sofa and TV.
“I’m confident you will find my ‘style’ to your satisfaction. I’m particularly looking forward to showing you the master suite,” he says, mischief in his eyes.
I choose to ignore his comment, even though his words make my stomach flip. He knows what his words do to me because of our shared connection through blood. I ignore this fact as well. Brush it all under the rug, pretend we’re normal. That’s how I get through my days.
“Has Jacob learned anything new about the local packs here in Phoenix?” I’m fascinated yet apprehensive, about the idea of werewolves.
“I don’t know.”
“Why not?” I ask. Evidently, Jacob told him something.
“He didn’t come home last night.”
As Adam continues to look at his phone, I sip my coffee. These mornings have become somewhat of a routine. He comes by in the morning while I get ready and have a small breakfast. There is a quiet comfort in this time together that I’ve only just realized. Strange how that just happened. Almost like an old married couple. Adam still won’t knock and use the front door.
“Did he stay with Dayna?” I ask, without looking at him. This is my attempt at not sounding too nosy or interested.
Ever since my best friend met Jacob “the vampire,” she’s been smitten and hard to find. They seem attached at the hip. Their relationship is sweet and troublesome. I love my friend and don’t want anyone to break her heart, especially someone that I placed in her path.
“I assume. Why? Are you worried about Dayna or Jacob?” he says, making fun of me.
Adam called Jacob into town to help protect me, but Jacob ended up standing guard over Dayna when she became a target. Somehow, they seemed to have slipped into being a couple without any serious commitment. She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions, but that doesn’t stop me from being concerned.
“I just really worry about her, okay? And I wonder if Jacob is treating her right. Or is he going to leave in a month? Stuff like that bothers me,” I say, annoyed that I feel the need to explain myself.
“She’s in good hands. Jacob is far more honorable a man than myself.”
His comment is noted.
Dayna’s always been more open to relationships than me. She’s more ready to take a chance, see what happens. A broken heart is a reasonable risk to her, if it means an opportunity to find real love.
I’ve never been that brave. Maybe because of the loss of my parents I’m afraid to gamble and lose so much. It’s my issue and I shouldn’t project my insecurities onto Dayna’s relationship, but I do care. If she was hurt, I’d feel somehow responsible.
“What about his blood lust? Has he ever lost control?” I ask, chewing on my lower lip.
“Every vampire has lost control of their blood lust. Especially in the beginning. But Jacob was quick to learn what must be done to protect those around us.”
He’s still messing with his phone. What could he possibly be doing? Imagining him playing Clash of Clans makes me want to burst out laughing. I refrain. Wouldn’t want to give the big bad Vampire a complex.
“How did Jacob become a vampire?” I ask when the thought pops into my head.
“That’s his story to tell if he chooses.”
“How did you become a vampire?” I counter.
Looking up from his phone, he says, “You are very inquisitive this morning. I do believe you’re in need of being kissed.”
Before I can think about him changing the subject, he has moved faster than my eye can follow. He pulls me up and out of my chair. I find myself in his embrace before I can even comprehend his last words. Is he trying to distract me?
Thoughts and questions evaporate from my mind as something far more demanding takes its place. A gasp escapes my lips, but he gives me no time to release it as his mouth covers mine in a passionate, soul-melting kiss. Once again, I don’t need oxygen. I only need his hands on my
body, and his lips burning me to ash.
I’m always caught off guard by my response to him. My hands find the edge of Adam’s shirt and slide up the back to revel in soft skin over solid muscle.
I’m aware of his hand moving from the tangles of my hair, over the curve of my shoulder. His hands slide further down my back until they settle on my ass. I’m on fire everywhere he’s touched.
Adam lifts me off the ground, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. He spins us around and places me on a solid surface as he leans over me. I hear things clattering to the ground somewhere, but the sound seems far away.
Our kiss goes even deeper as my hands find his head and lock him in place. Not that he’s trying to go anywhere, but I feel desperate to hold onto him, onto this moment.
One of his arms wraps around my waist—under my arched back, while the other is grasping my thigh. His hands are digging into the muscle as though he thinks I’ll disappear.
Just when I think I’ll scream, he stops. I’m startled back to reality almost violently as I gasp for breath, sucking in huge gulps of air. I remember that I do need oxygen.
Our surroundings, along with reality, come back into focus, and I notice for the first time that we are laying on the kitchen table.
Wow. When did that happen?
As my lungs find enough oxygen to form words, I breathlessly ask, “What’s wrong?”
I follow his gaze to the small bud vase with the black rose, now laying on its side next to us.
“Where did you get that rose?” he asks slowly. We’re still in our incredibly intimate position on the table. When we look at each other, our noses are almost touching.
The abrupt change has me feeling suddenly awkward, so I push Adam off, and he obliges by standing up. He doesn’t move from between my legs, though.
Feeling extremely vulnerable and exposed, I sit up and reach for my robe that has come undone, exposing my panties and bra. Adam’s hand is lightning fast as he stops me. I watch his face, knowing mine is turning sixteen shades of red.
