The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4)

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The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4) Page 19

by Marianne Morea


  Amused, the classy vampire smiled. Formidable as she was graceful, Abigail looked at Nika with eyes that seemed to pierce and detect.

  It didn’t take long for Annika to guess the woman’s role in their veiled subculture. Abigail was vampire elite, and only one degree from the famed New York Vampire Council.

  “I was told you decided to stay with us after all,” she said. “I trust you’ve found everything to your liking?” The vampire tilted her head, clearly curious.

  Nika nodded, meeting the vampire’s unnerving gaze. “Yes, thank you. Everyone has been more than accommodating.”

  Yeah, like I would complain.

  “Good.” Abigail inclined her head. “Then I’ll let you get back to your evening. Please don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything you want.”

  She walked away, yet her gait made it seemed as if she floated toward the bar. Bette gave a small wave from the corner and Annika let out the breath she’d been holding.

  She raised her wine glass to her new friend, sniffing again before bringing it to her lips. The wine hit her tongue and Nika held it on the roof of her mouth, opening her senses.

  The individual scents separated much the same way they had when she tried to place Derick’s heredity. Funny, both he and the wine held something she couldn’t place.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about him since she left for the east wing with Bette. Inhaling, she scanned the lower club. He was somewhere in the crowd. She sensed it.

  Closing her eyes, Nika concentrating on his remembered scent. The uniqueness of it. She smiled to herself and then lifted her lids, focusing on a shadowed silhouette in the far corner.

  Derick leaned against the wall with one knee bent, his foot against the concrete wall. A longneck bottle dangled from his fingers, and somehow she knew his eyes were closed.

  A lone woman approached from the opposite end of the dance floor aiming straight for him, only stopping when they were practically toe-to-toe.

  Interest piqued, Annika focused her hearing as well as her nose. Bette called him Mr. Talk to No One. Would he brush off a quick piece of ass?

  “I’ve been watching you,” the woman murmured, her eyes taking in Derick’s broad chest and chiseled face.

  He dropped his chin, his gaze meeting hers with indifference. “There are way more interesting people to watch here than me.”

  A slow, seductive smile graced her lips. “Not from where I’m standing.”

  No shit, sweetheart.

  Derick didn’t blink. “Then maybe you should take another look around. Get a better feel for the place.”

  Annika sat up straighter. Derick’s stance shifted in that moment and she caught the distinct scent of aroused interest.

  “I’d rather get a feel for you. Or better yet, let you get a feel for me.” The woman practically purred.

  Derick reached for the woman’s waist, running his knuckles over her belly before stoking her pussy through her tight leggings on the way back up to her midriff.

  “Like this?” he asked.

  His voice was a low husky growl and the woman sucked in a breath, but when she opened her mouth to comment, he pressed the cold tip of his beer to her lips. “I’ve no use for a Chatty Cathy.”

  A smirk spread on her lips and she dragged her tongue over the bottle’s wet glass. She took the beer from his fingers, stopping to lick his palm from the base of his hand to the tip of his thumb, circling the rough pad with her tongue.

  “I can think of a much better use for my mouth and my time.” She nipped at his skin.

  Annika’s grip on her wine tightened. “Fuck!” She scrambled back as the thin stem snapped in her fingers.

  Red wine dripped from the edge of the table where the glass fell, and she cursed again mopping up the mess with her napkins.

  A strange edginess gripped her chest and envy pinged from nowhere. What did she care who Derick Bergeron fucked?

  “Eavesdropping are we?”

  Nika jumped, nearly knocking over what was left of her wine glass. “Bette—I didn’t hear you walk over.”

  “Obviously.” The young vampire smirked. “Let me give you a hand with that.” She turned to signal the waiter and he appeared again out of nowhere with a bar towel.

  “At least you didn’t ruin your dress with all that snooping.” Bette giggled.

  “I wasn’t snooping!” Embarrassment flamed in her cheeks and Annika knew she was beet red beneath her careful makeup. “I was—people watching.”

  Bette chuckled. “Right…and I am the ghost of Christmas present.” The vampire’s gaze tracked Derick as he disappeared with his bimbo through a door to the backrooms.

  Nika watched as well, and made a face. “Are you sure there’s nothing in this wine but grapes? Your boss said you sometimes lace the drinks.”

  Bette ignored the question.” Come with me, babe. I’ve got just the thing.”

  Annika got up from her seat and followed Bette from the VIP lounge. They headed in the opposite direction from where Derick disappeared, stepping through yet another reserved exit.

  “What’ve you got hidden behind all these private doors? Secret passages?” she asked.

  Bette laughed. “Kind of. They lead to our underground.”

  “Underground,” Nika repeated. “I’m guessing you don’t mean the London subways.”

  Bette smirked, placing a thumb on a small biometric scanner. “There’s people watching, and then there’s people watching, Nika. Trust me.”

  “Bette—” she tried, but the young vampire shook her head.

  “We can’t have you wrapped so tight you can’t perform tomorrow night. I have the perfect place for you to continue your sport in private.”

  “Sport?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

  Bette flashed a hint of fang. “Oh, you will.”

  She took Nika’s hand and led her down a corridor to what looked like a private viewing room.

  Low, tufted couches sat back-to-back facing large ornate mirrors on either wall. The set up was very turn of the century brothel.

  “What is this place?” Nika asked.

  “Le Miroir.”

  “The looking glass?”

  Bette nodded impressed she understood the French name.

  “This is one of our famed backrooms. As I said, they are by invitation only, so tonight I thought I’d invite you. Maybe even help take the edge off before your big night.” She giggled, pressing a button on the side of the wall.

  The lights dimmed and a waiter carried in a tray with a wine decanter and matching glass, a small crystal jar with a silvered top and a warm towel.

  He placed the items on a narrow table against the wall and then left without a word.

  Bette lifted a hand toward a row of buttons in a recessed control panel beside first couch. “These control everything, and experimenting is half the fun. Enjoy the show.”

  “Wait! What show?” Nika asked, turning to catch Bette before she left. “I don’t understand.”

  The brunette vampire glanced back with her hand on the door. “Trust, me. You will soon enough.”

  Annika shook her head, confused. “I’m not sure I like this, Bette.”

  Bette smirked, angling her head slightly. “I may be undead, but I’m still female, Nika, and I can tell when one of my kind has the hots for someone.”

  “But I’m not a vampire.”

  Trying not to laugh, Bette nodded. “No, honey, you’re a panther, which makes it even worse. When you’re in heat there’s no hiding it, honey. You’re wound so tight you’re going to snap like that wine glass if you don’t get some relief.” She swung her arm wide. “You’re welcome.”

  “Welcome? For what?”

  “For how bad you want to wrap your legs around something hot and hard. I heard your thoughts, Annika. Loud and clear. Especially while you watched the seduction scene in the corner earlier.”

  Annika mouth fell open. “You heard my thoughts? I didn’t know that was even a thing
.”

  “You haven’t been around vampires much, have you?” Bette asked.

  Nika shook her head. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry.” Bette answered. “What happens at the Red Veil stays at the Red veil. What’s that human saying? Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it?”

  She took Annika’s hand and placed the small crystal jar in her palm. “This is what you wished for Nika—well, almost, but it’s a start. Who knows where it might lead?”

  Nika looked at the jar in her hand. “I’m guessing this isn’t moisturizer.”

  “Bingo!” Bette laughed. “Even now the blood is flushed beneath the surface of your skin.” She picked up the decanter and poured a glass of the red wine. “Agitation, yes, but also anticipation. Let yourself go, Annika.” She held the glass out. “You might just surprise yourself.”

  Nika took the glass from Bette’s hand. She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. Voices muffled in the distance and she caught Derick’s scent. Unmistakable.

  Annika’s eyes jerking toward the dark mirror. She lifted a hand to stop Bette from leaving, but it was too late. She was already at the door.

  The lights dimmed even further and silhouettes formed behind the glass. A man and a woman.

  He gathered her to him, his fingers clutching her hair, while his other hand roamed her thin body. He kissed her hard, bending her backward until she fell onto what appeared to be a bed. The girl clamored to her knees and licked her lips and Derick unbuckled his pants.

  “Do you still want to leave?” Bette asked.

  Annika ignored the question and lifted the wine glass to her lips, draining it.

  “The top button will change the aspect from silhouette to full view. The middle button will let them see you as well, though it’s up to them to give you access for full participation—if you know what I mean.

  “Pull the red velvet cord when you’re done and someone will escort you back to the club or your rooms. Your choice.”

  Annika couldn’t tear her gaze from the glass. The door snicked shut and her eyes jerked toward the exit.

  “Bette—wait!”

  The woman behind the glass gasped, her moan pulling Annika’s eyes back to the erotic scene unfolding in front of her. She tossed back the wine in one shot and poured a second glass, shooting it back the same way.

  Warmth spread through her body and her senses heightened. The same slow burn started in her lower belly as when she first saw Derick, the same tingle along her skin.

  Her hands mimicked his as he cupped the girl’s breasts, and she ran her fingers along the boned sides of her corset. She reached behind and loosened the stays. Tugging the stiff garment down, she freed her breasts enough for her nipples to graze the rough edge of the crisscross laces and metal topped leather.

  Nika reclined on the couch, her back against the arm. Derick stroked his cock and Annika moaned wishing she could taste him. She pulled the hem of her skirt up and pushed her underwear aside, running her fingers along the wet seam of her pussy.

  Moaning, her fingers worked her slick folds as his hand jerked his stiff member, and when he slid his hard cock between the girl’s lips, Nika shoved her fingers palm deep into her own sex in frustration. She needed more. Wanted more.

  She wanted him.

  Their hips bucked in time as she watched, one hand clasped to her breast, squeezing and pinching her stiff peaked nipple while the other moved in and out of her sex, her thumb grazing her clit until she cried out.

  At that moment Derick’s head turned toward the dim glass and it was as though their eyes met. His hips worked the girl, fucking her mouth, but his eyes fucked Annika.

  He snarled, fisting the girl’s hair, and driving his cock further into her throat. His gaze never left Nika as though he could see her body and her hands and smell her sex and clearly as she smelled his.

  “You want it. You know you do. Take it. Cum for me.” His words for Annika, and when he reached down and gripped the girl’s pussy, Nika cried out, riding her own palm as she came, hard.

  Her body spasmed, clenching against nothing and she whimpered. The release came in a violent crash, but slumped against the back of the couch, the satisfaction hollow and incomplete.

  Derick snarled again, pumping his hips. The girl gagged as he came, his head thrown back in a frustrated howl.

  He shoved her from him, jerking what was left of his climax into his hand as he stared at Annika.

  The glass went black and she lay in the darkness. Panting. Wanting. Did he want her, too, or was it just a tease?

  5

  Annika’s lids fluttered open. Chilled, she rolled to her side barely registering her surroundings. One hand hunted for blankets, but found nothing but velvet upholstery.

  Her eyes snapped open and she sat up. She was still in the viewing room. Still half-dressed from the night before.

  “Good afternoon.”

  The voice was deep and husky. The same voice that haunted her dreams all night, urging her to cum, to let go.

  But it was just dream, right?

  “Much as I admire your bold look, you might want to change if you plan to get anything accomplished today,” the voice said.

  Still fuzzy, she glanced down at her state and the night before flooded back in a heady rush.

  Oh God. Derick.

  Ignoring his appreciative stare, she covered her bare breasts with her arm. “What are you doing here? Ugh. I must have slept the day away. Fuck!”

  She twisted around, eyes still on the couch. “I need to get to my room and change. God, it’s late! Where’s my phone?”

  “That’s a ramble if I ever heard one. You need to calm down and take a breath, cher.”

  At the familiar endearment, she exhaled in resignation and looked at the man, truly seeing him for the first time.

  Derick’s tan skin held golden undertones that complimented his pale green eyes. He was a beautiful mix of races, more gorgeous than she originally thought, and the cadence of his voice was pure Créole.

  Too embarrassed to say anything or God forbid ask the questions burning to be asked, she hiked her corset over her breasts and randomly knotted the ties to keep it in place for the time being.

  “Now that’s a crying shame. I bet those sweet parts don’t see enough daylight, pale as they are,” Derick replied, clicking his cheek.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, his white tee tucked into a pair of jeans that molded to strong thighs, showcasing all six feet two inches of lean body. With his arms crossed against his hard chest, his eyes danced with humor at her expense.

  “You can lose the smirk. I need a hot shower and a cup of coffee,” she shot back.

  He tilted his head, flashing a sexy sideways grin. “If coffee is what you’re looking for you’re not going find it close by. At least not the kind I think you want. There isn’t a taste of ‘Nawlins chicory to be found anywhere in the city.”

  She stood, straightening her skirt. “Coffee regular will do me fine, so if you’ll excuse me.”

  With a dismissive wave she brushed past him, but he caught her arm and pulled her close against his chest, close enough she had to look up into his dark eyes.

  “I think I already know what’ll do you fine.” He slid his free hand behind her head and leaned in, kissing her hard.

  Annika froze. His scent overwhelmed her, sending heat coursing through her body and her unsated hunger from the night before into overdrive.

  The taste of his mouth was a drug, and her body screamed for more. She wanted every inch of him for real, not secondhand like some sad backstreet peepshow.

  Her self-reproach rebelled. The last time she gave in to raw desire it ended with one friend dead and another paying for the sin.

  She pulled back, straining against his grip.

  Her refusal was silent but obvious, and Derick released her. He stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable.

  “Go on. Take your shower an
d make your important calls. I’ve got work to finish, too.” He shoved her away like he did the girl last night.

  He strode down the hall at a fast clip and Annika didn’t know whether to call him back or chase after him. “Wait!”

  Derick stopped, but didn’t turn. His fingers stretched and then curled into his palm.

  “How do I get out of here?” she asked, knowing her question not the reason he stopped.

  He gave her his profile, and it was as perfect as the rest of him. She swallowed the urge to rush ahead and wrap her arms around his waist and climb his hard body.

  Derick didn’t look at her, almost as if weighing his response. It was a perfect set up for a crude comeback or a snarky remark, but to his credit he stayed quiet.

  “Follow me, if you can keep up.”

  Annika took two steps to his every one until she caught up with him. No one likes to be rejected, but at least he wasn’t being an asshole. He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t make eye contact.

  “Look, I’m sorry. You took me by surprise. I didn’t know where I was, let alone that I would have company,” she tried.

  He slowed his pace and he glanced past his shoulder at her. “You’re pretty full of surprises yourself.”

  Heat rushed up her cheeks to her ears. “How do you mean?”

  Derick turned, giving her a slow, southern smile. He didn’t answer, instead he pointed to a nondescript door. “Go through there and you’ll come to an elevator bank. Press the button on the left. It’ll take you to the east wing. I’m sure you can find your room from there.”

  Without another word, he continued down the hall in the opposite direction.

  Annika watched him go, her eyes taking in every inch of him. She should have kissed him when she had the chance.

  

  Annika got out of the shower and dried off, toweling her hair before twisting the dark mass into a loose bun on the top of her head.

  She shrugged into a terrycloth robe and dropped the damp towel on the floor near the bed. From the window overlooking the Hudson River she watched the shadows and dim orange light dance on the water and the horizon. Dusk.

 

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