by J. L. McCoy
“No,” I shook my head, suddenly angry. “Don’t you dare. He has a right to his anger, to his hurt. He has a right to tell me how he feels. I deserve this, Archer. I broke his heart; I devastated him by falling in love with you. If this is what he needs to move on then I’ll gladly stand here all night and take everything he gives me. I want my friend back, Archer. Maybe this is the only way he knows how to heal, who knows; who are we to say? But, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to deny him his voice.”
Archer frowned at me, a look of indecision playing on his features, as I moved him to the side and was brought back into Jameson’s view. His eyes bored into mine as Archer wrapped one protective arm around my back. I was suddenly a lot braver than I had been when he sang his first song. I let him see the full weight of my remorse in my eyes as he sang to me. I told him without words how sorry I was that I wasn’t the woman he thought me to be; sorry that I wasn’t the strong woman he thought he fell in love with. I conveyed the full weight of my heart during those three minutes and prayed he understood what I was trying to say.
After the song ended, the crowd whooped and cheered as the rest of the band appeared. Jameson took one last long look at me before he got up and started his show like nothing was amiss. The next two hours passed relatively without incident and I finally let loose and began having fun. I loved to watch Jameson perform; I always had. Pride for my brother, for my friend, was shining brightly from within me.
Archer and I danced to almost every song The Manky Langer played and we were really enjoying ourselves. Seeing my Archer let loose and have fun was always such a big turn on for me. I remembered the first time we’d danced at The Mausoleum and how surprised I was that this seemingly straight-laced businessman was a closet Goth/Industrialist. Looking back, that night took place only a couple of months ago and I was shocked at how much had happened in my life in such a short period of time.
The rhythm of my favorite song, Knackered Jacks, began to sound on the Bodhrán drums and I squealed like a teenager and turned to Archer. As we began to twirl and dance, Jameson invited some of the crowd up on stage to celebrate the closing song. Girls flocked to the front and Archer lifted me out of the way so that I wouldn’t get hit in the rush to be near Jameson. When the stage was as full as it could get, the push on the crowd lessened and he set me back down.
We laughed and resumed dancing by the stage. Archer skillfully twirled and maneuvered my body with a skill that made my panties moist. He knew my body like the back of his hand and knew just how to work me. As the song started to end, Archer lifted me once more and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“God, I fucking love you,” he smiled happily as he rested his forehead against mine.
Breathing hard from the excitement, I kissed him intensely; our tongues sliding together in a hungry dance as we groped each other with our hands. Time stood still in that moment as we lost ourselves to one another. Nothing mattered except me and him and the profound love we felt for each other.
The cheering became deafening and to my genuine surprise, the band queued up one last song. The riffs of Jameson’s electric guitar vibrated and the crowd began cheering even louder. It took me a second to realize what song they were playing.
Puddle of Mudd’s ‘She Hates Me’ hit me like a Mac truck and I turned wide eyes to stare up at Jameson. He was now standing in front of me on stage, surrounded by beautiful girls, as he sang the song directly to me.
I felt my legs sliding down Archer’s hips as he sat me down again. “We are definitely going to have a talk when we get home tonight,” he growled protectively as he stared daggers at Jameson.
Jameson ignored him and everyone else in the room as if they didn’t exist. He sang the lyrics to me with a satisfied smirk on his face and that really pissed me off. It felt like we were beating a dead horse at this point; me being the horse and Jameson the stick. I got what he was trying to tell me during ‘My Immortal’ and ‘Rest In Pieces’. But this song was just meant to hurt me. I didn’t need a cherry topper for my humiliation sundae. It was already fully loaded; he’d seen to that.
I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowed my eyes, and gave him back everything he was giving me. I sang along to the song loudly and changed all the ‘She’s’ to ‘He’s’ as we stared daggers at each other. This song worked perfectly for the both of us, it seemed.
I felt Archer glance back and forth between Jameson and me as he stood off to my side. Jameson leaned down so that he was singing the song in my face. I stood on tip toes to sing back in his. Screw being polite. If this was how he wanted to play it, fine. I’d apologized from the deepest reaches of my soul; I’d told him eighty different ways how completely sorry I was. Singing ‘she fucking hates me’ in my face was a hard slap to it. I didn’t hate him but I was growing tired of the grudge so I didn’t feel bad as I sang the song back to him. After all, I was starting to develop one of my own.
Archer threw his hands up exasperatedly and a few seconds later the song ended. Jameson thanked the crowd, grabbed the nearest girl’s hand and exited the stage with his arm around her shoulders. He made sure to wink at me before he disappeared stage right.
“Asshole,” I huffed as I shook my head and turned back to Archer.
He did not look pleased with our earlier display. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shook his head, and then folded his arms over his chest. “This shit between you two will be worked out tonight,” he growled. “I’m not allowing this to go on for a minute longer. Both of you are my children and I love you with all my heart, but this shit stops now.”
I sighed, properly chastised, and glanced down at my hands. “Sorry. I’ll go talk to him.”
“You do that,” he frowned. “Then tell Jameson to meet us at Les Oubliette when he’s finished. I’m going to go get the car. I’ll meet you outside in ten.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips and then disappeared into the crowd.
Damn. Archer was pretty angry at us and I didn’t like it one bit. I had to fix this…STAT. I jumped up on stage and said hello to Syd, Jameson’s bassist and backup singer, and see about getting backstage.
“Well if it isn’t the heartbreak kid herself,” Syd frowned up at me as he locked his bass in its case. “I’ll have you know this tour has been hell on the entire band thanks to you two.”
“Shit,” I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair. “Look, Syd, I’m really sorry about that. Jameson and I are just going through a hard time. I’m going to make this right, I promise you.”
“I hope so,” he sighed as he pulled me in for a hug. “Jameson’s been a real pain in the ass the last three weeks. He mopes around during the day like someone shot his kitten and then ends up getting drunk every night before the show. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you two, but he can’t go on like this. The band is going to suffer if he doesn’t get his shit together.”
Oh crap. It was worse than I thought. “Can I go talk to him?”
“Sure. He’s backstage somewhere. Just do me a favor and please, whatever you do, don’t make shit worse. We’ve got a show back in Austin in a week and a half and we need him on his game for this one. Our record execs are coming out. I like you Skye, I do, but you seem to be the only person in the world who can bring out the worst in him.”
“Ouch, Syd,” I frowned and started to back up. His words, although true, hurt like a bitch. “That was low.” I shook my head and turned on my heel toward backstage.
There were girls milling about everywhere as they waited for their chance to strike up a conversation with one of the band members. I sidestepped around them as I looked for Jameson, but I didn’t see him anywhere. My eyes landed on Chase, the band’s Bodhrán drummer, and he pointed to a door down the hall. I guess he knew where Jameson was. I raised my chin in thanks and made my way to the door. It was closed but I didn’t bother knocking in case Jameson pretended he wasn’t in there. I needed to see him and hash this drama shit out.
As I opened the d
oor, my wide, surprised eyes took in the scene before me. Jameson was standing in the middle of the room with a new bottle of whiskey at his mouth and his pants lowered on his hips. A girl with long red hair was on her knees, her head bobbing back and forth in his crotch.
Jameson lowered the bottle from his lips and smiled wickedly at me. “Hello, a luaidh,” he purred with more venom than I thought him capable of. “You’re just in time to join the party.”
“Jesus, Jameson,” I whispered, disgusted, as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Are you here to gawk or do you want to get in on this?” he leered as his eyes swept my body again. He fisted his free hand into the girl’s hair and sped up the pace at which she was servicing him. “I’m hoping you want to jump in, Skye. I’ve missed fucking you. No one fucks like you baby.”
“Wow. That had better be the booze talking, dheartháir,” I scowled at him before addressing the girl. “Are you just going sit there and let him say those things in front of you while you’re on your knees sucking his dick? Where’s your self-respect, woman?”
She withdrew her lips from Jameson’s cock with a loud slurp and looked up at me. “This is Jameson Doyle, the lead singer of The Manky Langer,” she scoffed, as if that explained everything, before she stuck her lips around the length of him again.
Jameson laughed and took another big swig from his bottle. “Well, there you have it. Now if you’re not here to join in, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m a little busy at the moment.”
I shook my head and looked at him like I’d never seen him before. “I came here to have a heart-to-heart with you, but I can see it’s pointless. I don’t know who the hell you are anymore, Jameson.” I swallowed thickly and started backing toward the door, my eyes on the floor in front of me. I couldn’t bear to look at him a second longer. “Archer wants you to meet him at Les Oubliette whenever you’re…finished here.”
“This might take a while,” he chuckled unkindly and I heard a splash of liquid as he brought the bottle to his mouth again.
I turned toward the door and took one last look before exiting. Jameson was staring at me with a mixture of lust and anger. Well, fuck you too, my eyes told him silently as I offered the girl some parting advice. “Just a little tip, honey? Jameson loves it when you use lots of teeth.”
I left the door wide open as I left and a second later smiled when Jameson cursed. “Fuck! Jesus, don’t use your teeth. She was kidding.”
Chapter Eight
I met Archer’s Audi out front and silently got in, shutting the door a little harder than I meant to. Okay, so maybe I was a little angry.
“I take it your talk with Jameson didn’t go well?” he asked with a frown.
“No, it went fine,” I smiled thinly over at him then changed the subject before my temper took a turn for the worse. “What’s Les Oubliette?”
“It’s a vampire club on Newbury Street,” he explained as he reached out to hold my hand. “Well, under Newbury Street more precisely. You’ll like it, babe.”
I nodded my head and silently turned to stare out at the city as we drove. My brief visit with Jameson was bothering me. I wasn’t in love with him anymore but seeing him there, in that position, was a little disconcerting. I couldn’t believe how he had acted. The Jameson I fell in love with would never have been so cruel. But then again, I had only known Jameson a short time. Maybe this was who he really was. One thing was definitely certain, he was a straight-up asshole when he was angry.
Archer pulled up to a tall brownstone and parked. A second later, a man appeared by his side and opened the door for him.
“Evening, athair,” he greeted with a formal bow.
“Evening, dheartháir,” Archer replied as he shook the man’s hand and then came around to open my door for me.
“Does everyone in Boston know you?” I asked as Archer led me up the brownstone steps to what looked like an upscale coffee house.
“Of course not,” he chuckled as he held the door open for me. “But, every vampire knows OF me.”
The coffee house was relatively deserted this time of the night. Two men manned the counter as four men in business suits sat at different tables appearing to read the paper. I could tell by how alert they were that they were not mere customers; they were guards.
The employees nodded their heads to Archer and I heard a buzzing sound as we approached the Staff Only door. Archer pulled the door open for me and I looked up at him curiously before I walked into the back room.
As we rounded a corner, I saw a man in a dark suit standing next to a set of cellar doors. Wordlessly, he nodded his head in greeting and bent to open one for us. Hm…a doorman for a cellar? Weird.
Archer stepped inside and held his hand out to me. “Welcome to Les Oubliette,” he grinned.
I frowned, not understanding how a cellar could be a vampire club, but trusted him implicitly, so I took his hand as we descended a long series of stone steps. As we got further underground, I picked up pulsing, rhythmic vibrations under my feet. Those vibrations turned to full out industrial music once we reached the bottom. To my surprise, another man in a dark suit was stationed here but this time in front of a heavy looking steel door.
“Welcome back, athair,” he rumbled as he bowed his head respectfully. “We’ve got a packed house tonight, sir.”
“Excellent,” Archer smiled and shook the man’s hand. “Charles, I’d like you to meet my mate. This is Skye Morrison.”
“A Dhia dhílis!” he exclaimed with wide, shocked eyes. “THE Skye Morrison, sir?”
“The one and only,” Archer chuckled as he lightly nudged me with his elbow.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” he shook my hand, properly fan-boying out on me. “We all heard about how you defeated the Dark Father. That’s all anyone’s been talking about. You’re a legend.”
“Nope,” I smiled as I patted his wrist. “I’m just a girl.”
Charles seemed to break out of his daze as he shook his head and opened the door for us. The thumping industrial beat was loud as it poured through the door. Beyond it was flashing lights and the smell of blood, humans, sex, and vampires. “Have an excellent time tonight, Miss Morrison.”
Archer thanked Charles for the both of us as we entered Les Oubliette. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Hundreds of people were packed into the massive club and I couldn’t believe they had all gotten through the coffee house without attracting attention.
I took in the club with wide eyes as I gazed at my surroundings. Les Oubliette was decorated much like The Mausoleum with its black and red motif, but that’s where the similarities ended. This club was tailored to vampires, not humans. There were two blood bars on the left that were surrounded by thirty or so long, leather couches. To the right of those were a section of lounges, each with their own privacy curtain. In the center was a massive, packed dance floor and accompanying DJ booth and on the far left there were tables, a liquor bar, and more long, leather couches. I jerked at the sudden, sharp scent of blood and turned to my right. A male vampire had just sunk his fangs into a pretty little blond not fifteen feet from me. Back at The Mausoleum, that would have been a huge no-no.
I whistled lowly as I looked up at Archer in surprise. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
Archer chuckled and took my hand as he led me down the short steps and into the belly of the club. Every few feet, someone stopped and greeted Archer. I could tell immediately that he had spent a great deal of time in this club. After saying his hellos, and greeting a few people of his own, he led me over to the liquor bar.
“Well, as I live and breathe!” the female bartender exclaimed as she saw us sit down, pausing her drink mixing. “Good to see you again, sir!”
“Matilda,” Archer nodded his head and smiled. “How’ve you been?”
Matilda was gorgeous and looked to be around my age. She had short black hair, green eyes, and a cute heart shaped mouth. I could also tell that she
was a Day Walker too.
“Good,” she smiled as she resumed mixing. “I just got back from Florence last week. Mathis and I took a trip celebrating our 71st wedding anniversary.” She poured up the liquor and set the glass in front of the human two stools down from me. “So, what can I get you and your lady friend? A bottle of your usual?”
“Please, Matilda. Thank you,” Archer answered kindly.
“What’s the usual?” I asked him in a whisper, leaning into him.
“Whiskey, of course,” he winked as he put one arm around my waist.
Matilda returned with the bottle of expensive whiskey and two glasses. “You just shout if you need something,” she winked before she flashed to the other side of the bar to take another order.
“Wow,” I gasped, shocked. “There are humans here and she’s allowed to flit around at vampire speed?”
“Aye,” Archer chuckled. “This is a vampire bar. We don’t have to hide our true selves at Les Oubliette. Every human in here either has an exclusive membership, bought and paid for by a vampire sponsor, or they work here...for me.”
“This is YOUR club?” I asked, astonished. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was planning on it,” he grinned as he poured me a tall glass of whiskey. “I’ve got some people to see and some quick business to attend to. It’s going to be quite boring, so why don’t you walk around and have fun. If you happen to get hungry, you’ve got two options. The blood bar serves bagged blood, so you can’t drink it, but there are always donors around or you can hit up the live bar.” Archer pointed over his shoulder at the leather couches behind us. A dozen or so men and women were seated around, being fed on my vampires. “There is a menu to choose from. Find something that sounds good and an attendant will come and take your order. Tell them you’re with me and that I said it’s on the house.”
“Live bar?” I asked with raised eyebrows. Les Oubliette was so out of my element; I’d never been to a place like this before and it was a little overwhelming.
