Dark Wine at Midnight (A Hill Vampire Novel Book 1)

by Jenna Barwin

  “What should I wear?”

  “Oh, blue jeans are fine. Nothing fancy,” she added, flipping her fingers in that dismissive way she had, “though you may want to touch up your makeup. And don’t take too long. You should leave in fifteen minutes if you’re going to be on time.”

  Cerissa didn’t wear much makeup, but she could take a hint. She got ready quickly and hurried downstairs. Blanche—well, she assumed it was Blanche—waited in the foyer, wearing a classy pencil skirt with a silk jacket, tapping her high-heeled foot impatiently. Shit. It was too late to go back upstairs and change out of her jeans into something nicer. She’d have to suck it up.

  A short time later, they arrived at a brightly lit casino located on the outskirts of Mordida. “Been here before,” Blanche said with a slight Midwestern twang, leading the way inside.

  From the back, her pageboy haircut needed a serious update. The fine strands of her blonde hair brushed her collar whenever she turned her head, like fringe on a surrey.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Blanche added, stopping near the roulette wheel. Cerissa caught up with her and Blanche leaned in conspiratorially. “I like gambling, but I don’t gamble all that much here. These Hill residents, they got no respect for a girl who loses money at the tables, ya know? And I gotta impress ’em if I’m gonna get investors for my project.”

  “Investors?” Cerissa repeated, her throat going dry.

  “Startup capital. Can’t work a day job, ya know. I refuse to be a hooker, and they won’t let you steal, cuz they’re too afraid it’ll lead back to them. So I gotta find investors and start a business I can run at night. Gotta earn my buy-in fee.” Blanche started walking again toward the back of the Casino.

  I’m in competition with Blanche for investors? Why hadn’t Leopold included her in his dossiers? Sure, Blanche didn’t live on the Hill, but this was important information.

  Cerissa swallowed hard and walked fast to catch up with Blanche. “What kind of business?”

  “I’m still working on my plan. I got this idea—I just need the right partner.” Blanche shrugged, her hair doing the fringe thing again. “If I don’t hook up with a community soon, they might brand me a renegade.”

  Cerissa opened her eyes wide with disbelief. “But when the treaty was signed, all unaffiliated vam—” She stopped before saying the forbidden word in public. “Ah, you were given fifty years to join a treaty community. What happened?”

  “Things didn’t go as planned, ya know?”

  “So you have—”

  “Four years, seven months, and three days left to join,” Blanche said with a laugh. “Yeah, I know, I’m cuttin’ it kind of tight, which is why I gotta make some serious money soon. I’m not the only one out there looking for a community. The deadline drives up the buy-in price each year.” Blanche stopped in front of a closed door. “Hey, here we are.”

  Blanche opened the door and, still holding Cerissa’s arm, gave her a gentle shove into a small private room and let go. The room was partitioned from the rest of the casino by a floor-to-ceiling glass window, draped with satin curtains, which were closed, blocking out the view. In the middle stood a blackjack table, covered in green felt, with five player seats filled. Cerissa’s contact lenses identified the lower body temperature of the five players—all vampires.

  Zeke bounced out of his chair and covertly showed a little fang when he greeted her. Geez, couldn’t he keep it under control?

  “Hey, Cerissa, you wanna sit by me?” he asked. He grabbed her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “Blanche can have the other seat.”

  She dislodged her arm from his and slid onto the red leather stool next to Zeke’s. Blanche took the empty one on her other side.

  “Glad you could make it,” said a pale woman with brunette hair. “We talked last night. I’m Liza,” she added, reaching around Blanche to shake Cerissa’s hand.

  “Thanks,” Cerissa said, gripping Liza’s hand firmly. Liza had been at the mayor’s table last night with the rest of the council members. “Maybe we’ll have an opportunity to talk about Leopold’s project.”

  “No work talk,” Blanche said, giving her arm a squeeze.

  The dealer tapped the table, getting Cerissa’s attention. “Place your bets. I’m on the clock here.”

  Her eyes widened—a vampire working at a casino? She hadn’t focused on the dealer when she first walked into the room.

  “Slick,” Zeke said, hooking a thumb in the dealer’s direction, “works the night shift.”

  “And since I want to keep my job, would y’all place your bets?”

  Cerissa slipped three hundred dollars out of her purse, the remainder of her traveling money until payday, and laid it on the table.

  “Minimum bet is fifty dollars,” Slick said, pushing colored chips at her, each imprinted with a dollar amount.

  Her fingers squared up the stack of chips while she glanced around the table. Some pretty high rollers—bets from fifty to two hundred dollars sat in front of the others. Blanche’s warning threaded through her thoughts. She didn’t want to appear frivolous by losing too much too fast. Besides, she couldn’t afford to, so the table minimum seemed the only choice. She picked up a fifty-dollar chip and set it in the betting circle.

  Liza eyed her bet. “Have you played blackjack before, Cerissa?”

  “Some.”

  “Don’t let Liza pester you.” Zeke laid down three black chips—three hundred dollars. “Most of us are used to higher stakes.”

  Slick dealt first cards to the players face up, placing his own card face down. Liza introduced the other three vampires at the table during the deal, one woman and two men. Cerissa didn’t recognize them—none were on her dossier list.

  Liza leaned around Blanche. “You’re working for Leopold, but you aren’t his mate, right? When you do take a mate, which will it be, a man or woman?”

  “Couldn’t it be both?” one of the men asked. He looked brightly interested, like a cat left alone in a tuna factory.

  “Hey,” Slick said. “Are you here to gamble or duke it out over the new blood? Blanche, the deal’s to you. Are you taking a card or standing?”

  New blood? Cerissa had learned the term in New York—not exactly a polite way to refer to a mortal. When Slick turned to her, her eyes must have communicated her displeasure.

  “Sorry, miss,” Slick said. “No offense intended.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, and accepted another card, standing on eighteen.

  After a few hands, she was up by a hundred dollars. Zeke lost three hands in a row, Blanche and Liza seemed to be about even, and the chip stacks in front of the others had dwindled significantly.

  “Play by the book,” Ari had taught her. “If you follow basic blackjack strategy, your odds of winning improve, and you won’t piss off other players who use the same strategy to increase their odds.”

  Zeke leaned in close, his hand sneaking under the table to squeeze her knee.

  Why was he so grabby? The Covenant forbade dating on the Hill— Wait, they weren’t on the Hill. Is that why he’s making his play here and now?

  He squeezed her knee again. “When you’re ahead,” he whispered near her ear, “you ought to increase your bet. Play with the house’s money.”

  She brushed his hand away. “Really?”

  “Come on.” He grabbed her knee again, shaking it a little, but let go before she could react. “Loosen up.”

  She had kept her bets at fifty dollars, trying not to stand out. Maybe Zeke was right. If she upped her bet, they might take her more seriously. She picked up her fifty-dollar bet, replacing it with two black hundred-dollar chips.

  Liza gave a light whistle. “You go, girl!”

  “All right, place your bets,” Slick said. “The rest of you—get in the game or call it quits.”

  Some of the vampires exchanged cash for more chips. Once bets were placed, Slick started pulling cards from the two-deck shoe. He laid down a ten in fro
nt of her. Her contact lenses had tracked the previously dealt cards—her ten was the last ten-point card in the shoe. Her next card was a two. Twelve. She had to beat Slick’s hand without going over twenty-one. His up card was a six. Assuming his down card was a ten, he had sixteen.

  The basic strategy said to stay. Don’t take a card, don’t do anything. The dealer had to draw more cards until he reached seventeen, so the odds were he’d bust—except there wasn’t anything left in the deck higher than a nine, and only one of those, so his down card couldn’t be a ten. Odds were Slick would draw a series of low cards and beat her twelve.

  Blanche took one card and stopped at seventeen.

  Now what do I do? Go for the big score to impress them? I’ll break every rule in the book if I do it. What would Ari do? Her cousin always knew the right move. She’d rather be in the lab than a social situation, but put Ari in a room with people and everyone fell in love with him.

  The dealer raised one eyebrow at her—a look of don’t just sit there, it’s your turn.

  “Cerissa stays,” Zeke said.

  She clenched her teeth at his speaking for her, sucking it up one more time. She didn’t want to upset any potential investors, and “investor” was the only role Zeke had a chance at.

  “Wait a minute,” Liza said, stopping Slick from moving on. “Cerissa gets to choose. It’s her money. What do you say, girlfriend?”

  She didn’t look in Zeke’s direction. She took a deep breath and pushed her last two black chips into the betting circle. “Double down,” she told the dealer.

  The table became very still.

  “Four hundred dollars riding on one card.” Slick snapped a card out of the shoe with a flourish and set it face down across her other cards. “Good luck.”

  “Wait. Don’t I get to see it?” she asked. She had to know whether she’d just lost all her travel money.

  “Local rule,” Slick said. “We deal it face down. Adds to the fun. You’ll see it soon enough.”

  Zeke’s first two cards totaled eleven. “I’m gonna follow Cerissa’s good example,” he said, pushing three black chips into his betting circle. “I’ll double too.”

  Slick dealt Zeke’s card face down and added, “Good luck.” No one else took a card, and all heads turned to Slick. He revealed his downturned card—an eight. Fourteen. He had to hit. Raising one eyebrow, Slick slowly pulled the card from the shoe and turned it over: a four, giving him eighteen.

  A few growls of displeasure—some of the players weren’t happy.

  Slick tapped the table in front of Liza, who also had eighteen, breaking even. He swept up Blanche’s chips and cards. Her seventeen had turned into a losing hand.

  “Fuck,” Blanche spat out.

  Cerissa held her breath, a lump in her throat, her pulse beating a cha-cha. Why had she risked it all on one hand? She didn’t have four hundred dollars to lose.

  Slick slowly reached for Cerissa’s downturned card, flipping it with a one-finger flourish: the last nine, added to her twelve, gave her twenty-one. He winked at her and paid her winnings—four black chips. She exhaled sharply.

  “You go, girl!” Liza extended her hand for a high five.

  Cerissa met Liza’s hand with a slap, a warm flush spreading through her.

  Slick then flipped over Zeke’s downturned card. An eight. His nineteen beat Slick’s eighteen.

  Zeke grinned at her, a grin that would have made the Cheshire Cat proud. Slick pushed six black chips to him.

  Cerissa breathed another sigh of relief. She wasn’t the only big winner. Now they had to respect her.

  “Didn’t anyone teach ya the rules?” Blanche asked snidely. “You screwed it for the rest of the table. Zeke would have got your nine and stood on twenty.” She tapped Cerissa’s card, then pointed at Zeke’s. “Zeke’s eight would have busted the dealer. Then all of us would have won.”

  Her stomach lurched. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Liza said. “I’m impressed. You played a good hand.”

  Blanche grabbed Cerissa’s shoulder. “Stupid new blood.”

  “Lay off,” Liza warned.

  “Fuck you. I don’t have to put up with bad playing from a new blood.”

  “I said, leave her alone.” Liza grabbed Blanche’s arm, pulling her off Cerissa. “You don’t like how the table’s going, you can walk away.”

  From behind her, a cold hand suddenly gripped Cerissa’s shoulder. What the hell? The hand belonged to Zeke, who turned her to face him. Just because we aren’t on the Hill doesn’t give him the right to manhandle—

  He yanked her closer and kissed her. Disgust radiated through her and she pushed back against his chest, leaning in the direction of Blanche, who snarled and pressed her fangs against Cerissa’s bare neck.

  “Public place!” Liza shouted.

  Cerissa pulled away, almost falling off her stool, her heart going into overdrive.

  Liza jerked Blanche back by her hair. “Shut your damn mouth before the surveillance video catches you. You out us here and the council will skin you alive. Literally.”

  Blanche clamped her lips shut over her fangs, and Liza let go with a push.

  Cerissa quickly glanced over Zeke’s shoulder. Her contacts had flashed a warning, telling her someone else had entered the room. A lone vampire stood at the door—the same good-looking guy from the dance last night.

  He zeroed in on her, a look of contempt on his face. Damn. Using her lenses, she tried to identify him, but the readout still gave a null report.

  She kept her eyes on the ponytailed stranger and whispered to Zeke, “Who’s that guy?”

  By the time Zeke turned his head, the ponytailed stranger had spun on his heels and left. Zeke sniffed the air, and an expression flashed across his face, almost imperceptible because he hid it so well—he didn’t like what he smelled.

  Zeke shrugged. “Don’t know. Didn’t see him.”

  Why had Zeke just lied?

  A security guard quickly replaced the stranger at the door. “Need assistance?” the guard asked, his question directed to the dealer.

  Slick waved him off. “It’s all good, thanks.”

  The guard left, and Cerissa whispered to Zeke, “I, ah, I think I should leave.”

  “Now? Don’t let Blanche get to you.”

  “You know what they say, ‘quit while you’re ahead.’” She clutched her purse, grabbed her chips, and slid off the stool. Last night, Rolf had spoken to the ponytailed stranger for a good twenty minutes, with frequent glances in her direction. Not good.

  Zeke was in front of her in a flash, blocking her exit. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.

  “It’s okay, really,” Liza added, grabbing Zeke’s arm and moving him aside. “Cerissa isn’t leaving, right, girlfriend? She just needs a moment to go to the women’s room.”

  “Sure,” Cerissa agreed, anything to get out of there. She had to find out who the stranger was and undo the damage. “I’ll be back, okay, Zeke?”

  “I’ll walk ya there.” He reached for her arm.

  Liza hissed at him. “Zeke, give the lady some space. Go on, Cerissa.”

  Zeke stepped aside, and Cerissa scurried to the front of the casino. She ducked into the alcove where the restroom sign pointed. Hidden by the alcove’s wall, she peeked around the corner.

  The stranger stood near the front entrance, talking to a mortal man. The two shook hands, then the stranger walked outside and the mortal turned in her direction. The mortal’s name badge read “Beverage Manager.”

  She quickly scooted toward the main door and out into the brisk night air. It didn’t take her long to catch up with the stranger. She started to say hello, but he spun around so fast that she plowed right into him and stumbled, the impact zapping though her. He grabbed both her arms, holding her firmly. He had looked thin, but felt very muscular. Plowing into him was like running into a punching bag.

  “Excuse me,”
she said, regaining her balance and taking a deep breath. The spicy scent of his cologne and masculine musk tickled her nose.

  He continued holding her arms. A pleasant tingle began at the base of her neck, running down her arms to where he touched her. She gave a quick shake of her head to clear it and pointedly looked down at his hands. Based on his fingernail ridges, he’d been vampire around two hundred years, and based on the perfect shape of his nail tips, he had an on-call manicurist.

  From the way she stared at his hands, he got the message and released her. She looked up into his dark brown eyes, feeling the same pull she’d felt last night. But nothing had changed—he was still a dangerous predator, still off-limits under the rules, and still waiting for her to say something.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound friendly. “I was just coming out to ask if you’d like to join us inside.”

  “Why? So I can watch you debase yourself?”

  She stepped back. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me. The way you flirt with them and flaunt your blood, your very presence incites their lawlessness.”

  This was far from the conversation she’d expected to have. “I didn’t mean to cause a problem between Blanche and Zeke.”

  He crossed his arms. “Then why did you do it?”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “One mortal among a group of us? What did you think would happen?”

  “All I did was play cards.”

  “Rolf is right. You don’t belong here.” His Spanish accent thickened the angrier he got. “Leopold should never have sent such an inexperienced envoy, one lacking knowledge—such basic knowledge—of our ways.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks. Inexperienced? “Look, I received the same training all envoys receive. My only mistake was trying to impress them with a high-stakes hand.”

  “And what would you call that kiss?”

  She poked his chest with her finger. “Zeke kissed me without asking—not that it’s any of your damn business.”

  Something flickered in his eyes at her touch, and his posture relaxed, the tension draining from his face. Oops. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t use her aura.

  “Hey, Cerissa!” Zeke called out from behind her. “We need ya back inside—the table’s been stone cold since you left. No one’s winnin’.”