* * * *
LeAnne sat on a barstool in the quieting club that was down to its last twenty or so patrons and in half an hour it would close. She propped her bare feet on the bottom rung and sipped a Tropical Fuck Me Up. Jonas made it extra strong to help her unwind after scaring off Dorian. Tori was driving home and the drinks were free, so she indulged. With the money saved on drinks alone, she had enough to get the cable installation she had been debating without pinching pennies. A year ago, she would have died without her shows. Cable wasn’t a luxury to her then, but as necessary as power and water. Now, it wasn’t necessary, but HBO would be nice to have. Life was different, harder in some ways and easier in others. Overall, she would never trade her freedom for another round as the cliché lonely salesman’s wife who had cable, designer handbags, a large home, and international vacations that didn’t quite fill the void.
“You all right?” It was Jonas, standing behind the bar with his arms folded over his chest.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got to run to the back for a minute. Can you watch the bar?”
LeAnne nodded.
“Thanks.” He leaned forward. “If you need me, just press the button under the counter, down by the register.”
“Doesn’t that set off the panic on the alarm?”
He laughed, and the sound was musical. “Cops are useless. We aren’t rigged for that here.”
She raised her brow at him, but didn’t question him aloud.
“I doubt anyone will order before I get back, but here’s a key to get behind the bar in case you need to.” He slid it across the bar to her along with another drink. LeAnne reached for the glass, and Jonas held onto it. When she looked up, into his haunting eyes, he gave her a small grin. “In this club, if anyone gives you a problem, I will take care of it. Tori considers you family, and so you are.”
She nodded and swallowed hard. Jonas’s eye held the promise of violence to anyone who hurt her, and that astounded her. Few people besides Tori had ever made her believe they would inflict physical harm on her behalf, but Jonas did. It was odd from someone she’d just met, but she was glad he made her feel that way. Living here was starting to look much easier. “Um…thanks.”
He gave her a quick nod. “It should only take about fifteen minutes.”
“Go. I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine,” LeAnne said.
LeAnne watched Jonas leave and took a sip of her drink. For the first time tonight, she had a chance to really take in her surroundings and listen to the music flowing through the room. Down the bar to her left sat a tall man with small wire-rimmed glasses and blond curls. He had baby cheeks and a tall thin frame that made his designer slacks and grey button-up hang just right. He huddled close to a very Abercrombie and Fitch guy with mocha skin and short black hair. They were embroiled in a conversation, pausing at times to glance around. The more she watched, the more obvious it became that they were comfortable with each other, close, and they did not want to be overheard. She smiled and glanced the other way.
Toward the club’s entrance, there were two tables of people. A mixed male and female group of six loud and inebriated Goths surrounded one table. The other table had two couples, both dressed in average date-night clothes with very normal college kid looks. They were quieter, the way the taller guy with dark hair raised his head to look straight back at her was unnerving, almost as if he knew she was watching. She had the feeling he was trying to force her to look away. LeAnne did, just to avoid matching his uncomfortable stare. Proving he didn’t intimidate her was not worth the stress.
To her right, she felt movement. Someone sat down on the stool beside her and straddled her with his legs with his body turned completely toward her. She glanced over to see Dorian smile down at her.
“Hello,” he said, placing his hand on top of her right, which rested on the bar top.
“Hey,” LeAnne said without thinking. She had just a moment to realize how strange it seemed that she felt so comfortable with his hand on hers, talking to a stranger so casually, but then he leaned forward, close to her ear. The smell of his cologne drifted toward her. She inhaled softly.
“I had to see you again,” he said, leaning a little closer.
LeAnne let out an alcohol-induced giggle and tried not to blush. “You’re funny.”
His mouth hovered just above her ear; his chest pressed to her arm. “Tell me and I’ll make him sorry.”
With the words came a tingle of electricity that started at the back of her neck, just like earlier. It rolled up her scalp and toward her forehead. Her body relaxed, even though she wasn’t exactly sure she was okay with that. Her mouth opened slightly. She wanted to send him after James and almost told him, but decided against it at the last moment. It wasn’t Dorian’s place to set him straight. “He’s not worth it.”
“I disagree.” His hand perched on her back. “All you need to do is give me a name.”
It was sweet of him and the fact that he could see that broken part of her made her insides turn to mush. She leaned away and smiled. “Thank you, but I can’t do that.”
“In that case, may I have your number?” He kissed her shoulder.
LeAnne tried not to react, but the goose pimples brought on by his stubble were uncontrollable.
“Get out your phone.”
He leaned back and smiled. The phone was already in his hand. She called out the digits while he typed them in. Then he smiled down at the new contact in his phone. “Is it safe to assume you text?”
“Constantly.”
“Good.” He tucked the phone back in his pocket and kissed her shoulder again. That same decadent sensation made her smile. “Allow me to drive you home.”
That tingle in her head came back. The alcohol was really affecting her weird tonight. “I don’t even know you.”
“Use it as an opportunity to get to know me.”
“Or become a face on a milk carton.”
He chuckled.
A male cleared his voice behind her. LeAnne looked up to see Michael and Tori. He looked annoyed, but she looked curious.
“Who’s your friend?” Tori slid onto the seat beside her.
LeAnne grabbed the hand he had rested on top of hers with her free hand. She was not going to let Michael run him off the way Jonas had. “This is Dorian.”
“Hi,” he said with a nod toward Michael.
The other man nodded slightly. “First time here?”
“Yes,” he said.
LeAnne glanced between them. During one of her glances at Dorian, Jonas appeared beside Michael. The wagons were circling and making her gut tie itself into knots.
“Time to go, LeAnne,” Tori said.
She opened her mouth to argue, but Dorian interrupted. “I don’t mind driving her home.” He looked from Michael to Tori, probably hoping she wanted to stay with her lover enough to urge on the situation.
Tori’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. She didn’t trust him. “No. That’s okay.” She looked at LeAnne. “I need to talk to you.”
LeAnne wanted to stay with him, but Tori’s tone worried her. She sounded just a little too urgent.
Dorian leaned over to her, close enough make her heart flutter. He whispered, “All you have to do is give me his name.”
LeAnne blushed and gave him a slow, chaste kiss. The scent of him, the taste of his skin was enough to rouse a hunger low in her body. He could be a great distraction from her stressful life.
He leaned back and pulled his hand from hers. “Good night, LeAnne.”
She took a deep breath and turned away from him. “Michael, we’ll meet to discuss our business tonight.” She looked at Jonas. “Night.”
They both nodded, almost in unison.
Tori hurried over to give Michael one last hug. He took her by the face and gave her a long, passionate kiss. Jonas turne
d his head the tiniest bit and averted his eyes. LeAnne might have been wrong, but she was almost certain that was for his torture, and she felt for him.
Michael released Tori, and she wobbled on her feet for a moment. She gave Jonas an apologetic look, then turned and walked toward the door. LeAnne hurried to catch her. They did need to talk, because there was more to this situation than Tori had told, and she was determined to find out just what that was.
* * * *
Dorian sat on the barstool, elbows propped behind him on the bar, and waited for the questioning to begin. As expected, Michael moved closer as soon as the girls were out of the building. He kept his voice low because of the humans still in the building. “Follow us into the office.”
He did as instructed, walking behind them to a nondescript door, following down a plain hallway, and into a room. Dorian closed the door and walked farther into the room. In the room with just the two vampires, he was tempted to try killing the leader. No one else was there to witness it, but he would never get Tori out of the club to deliver her. Without delivering her, the plan failed and they would kill Grace. Jonas would stop him. He would only get one shot at this, and it would have to be without his garante.
Michael stood in front of the desk. Jonas stood behind him and to the left, glaring at him. “Good evening, Dorian.”
“Good evening, padrone.” He crossed the room and gave the vampiro leader the formal greeting, a kiss on the inside of his wrist.
“Sit.”
Dorian sat.
Michael leaned back on the edge of the desk with his arms folded in front of his chest. “Where are you from?”
“Louisiana.”
“What city?”
“Shreveport.”
“Your family?”
Dorian smirked. “As Italian as yours.”
“What is your gift?”
“Is this an inquisition?”
“Answer the question,” Jonas chided.
He shook his head in frustration. It was not as in depth as he had expected, but he had to play the part. “Nothing spectacular. I can hear better than most, make humans do what I want most times, and I blend in easily.”
Michael watched him, probably deciding whether he was being honest. “Any progeny?”
“No.”
“Is your creatore still alive?”
“No.”
“Who was it?”
“Ebenezer DePriest.”
Michael nodded. “I knew him…quite well, actually.”
That friendship they’d had was a bond that Dorian depended on to be his ticket into the territory.
“You’re completely alone?” The padrone looked concerned.
“Yes.”
“What is your business here?”
“I was hoping to relocate.”
Michael rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve been watched.”
Dorian felt suddenly sick.
“I am concerned,” Michael said. “Why are you really here?”
“Why?” The question took Dorian by surprise.
“It’s no secret I took this territory from Castillo. Only a fool would not consider your appearance in my territory a threat on my life.”
Dorian blinked and wondered what the padrone knew about him.
“I’m well aware that you were an assassin, Mr. DePriest.”
“I retired.”
Michael nodded. “And you were the best. The perfect person to make an attempt on the life of an elder. That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Oh shit, Dorian thought.
The padrone’s eyebrows went up. Panic streaked through Dorian’s mind at seeing the tiny gesture that poked through the vampiro’s careful façade. With enough power, Michael might be able to read the thoughts of immortals. The eyebrows indicated he could, and if that were the case, Dorian was good as dead.
“Why?” Michael growled.
“What?”
Jonas leapt at him. Before he could dodge, the garante grabbed him by the throat. The momentum sent him backward, Jonas on top, as they crashed the chair to the floor. Then they rolled. Dorian tried to keep the upper hand, but the other man ended up on top. When they stopped, something sharp jabbed at his chest, pressing almost into his flesh. Dorian bet it was a silver blade.
Above his head, the door to the room opened and two of Michael’s men hurried in, guns drawn.
“Leave us,” Michael barked
They did. The padrone stood beside Jonas. “You only have one option, leggero. Tell us everything, take a blood oath, and help us kill whoever sent you. Or you die your final death right now, on that floor.” He squatted down, looking Dorian in the eye. “Personally, I prefer the first, but I have no problem obliging you with the second.”
Dorian’s eyes burned, and his gut twisted in knots. If the agents found out he had told, they would definitely kill Grace. Then they would kill him. If he didn’t talk, he would die now, and she would still be werewolf chow. It was an unfair choice, but—
“Start talking.” Jonas pushed the blade harder against his skin.
Agreeing meant he would be bound to Michael, unable to oppose him, just like all members of his cosca. That oath was something he had avoided for centuries, since he had broken the bond with his creator, but he had no other real options. Grace’s life came first. He would just have to deal with the consequences of what he was about to do later. All he could do was tell them and pray they helped him get her back. He closed his eyes and nodded.
Chapter Five
“What the hell is going on between you and Jonas?”
LeAnne took a bite of her glazed Krispy Kreme doughnut and waited for Tori to unleash hell on her for being so nosy. She kept her eyes locked on the screen of her modest new television, watching a movie they had watched dozens of times together, Remember Me, from her seat at the other end of the couch in LeAnne’s apartment. They both needed a way to wind down while the sun came up.
Tori choked on her blueberry-filled, then glared at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said between bites, still not looking at her. “I get that you’re attracted to him but he’s a little…Halloween-y. Michael is attractive and crazy about you. I don’t get it.”
“I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
“Well.”
“Nothing.” Tori tore off a hunk of doughnut and started chewing. “Nothing’s going on.”
LeAnne cackled. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not blind.”
“I haven’t done anything.” Tori ate another bite of doughnut. “Nothing real.”
“What’s that mean?”
Tori looked at her. She blushed, then looked out the balcony window. “I’ve had a lot of dreams about him. Some that felt very real. I know that sounds silly, but I can’t explain.” Tori sighed just loud enough for LeAnne to hear. “Jonas means a lot to me.” Her cheek rose with a smile. “He’s hot without the—uh—makeup. And he’s really sweet when you get past the machismo.”
“You slept with him!”
Tori laughed. “No, I haven’t.”
“How do you feel about Michael?”
“I live for him.” Tori turned back to face her. “He’s everything. I just cannot help that I love Jonas in a different way. Does it make sense that one doesn’t take away from the other?”
“Yeah, I guess.” LeAnne finished her doughnut.
“I don’t want to come between them.”
“Good. They’ll resent you if you do.”
“I know. I just wish I could stop feeling so—whatever—when Jonas is around.” Tori looked lost. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Michael on purpose, but it’s like I lose control when Jonas is around. I notice everything: the way the muscles move in his arms when he crosses them, how delicious he smells.” Her
voice trailed off.
“Girl, you got it bad.” LeAnne giggled. “Really bad.”
“I know.”
Tori sounded more defeated than ever. It pulled at her heart. “It’ll be okay, Tori. If you have not acted on it, there is no reason to feel guilty. You just need to rein in the hormones.”
Tori laughed. “Or I can just stay drunk off my ass, and if I do anything, at least I’ll have an excuse.”
LeAnne shook her head. “Wrong direction. Maybe you could just avoid him.”
“I do, but he keeps coming around now.”
“What do you mean?”
“When he and Elena hooked up, he stayed away, but then something changed. She and Michael are together more. The closer they get, the more Jonas ends up spending time with me while we wait on them.”
“How much time are they spending together?” LeAnne wondered the obvious: Were Michael and Elena having a fling?
“Just a few minutes. No more than an hour.” Tori turned her whole body toward LeAnne. “Maybe I’m imagining it all. Maybe Jonas isn’t into me. Maybe it’s just me acting insane.”
LeAnne tried not to laugh, but it slipped out in a trickle. “No. I don’t think that’s the case.”
“What?”
“It’s pretty obvious that he’s attracted to you, too. He’s not as obvious as you are, but—”
“Oh my God, is it that bad?”
“Well…”
“Shit!”
“Yeah.”
“What do I do, Lee? I don’t wanna fuck this up with Michael. I love him.” Tori’s eyes were wide with panic, and her words came out too fast.
“Just breathe. We’ll figure it out.”
They sat in the quiet for what felt like an eternity. Tori finally spoke. “What about you and that guy?”
“Dorian?”
“Yeah. He’s a cutie.”
LeAnne felt herself smile.
Dorian Page 5
