by JF Holland
Shit.
“Give me the phone,” Luc said, hand out. Too stunned to think, Leonard moved towards the bed, dropped on the edge and handed his old friend his phone.
Luc opened the e-mail, then grinning handed it to Balin who laughed, sobering as he winced, the movement pulling on his wounds. He handed it back, and shuffled about trying to get comfortable again.
“You have a date tomorrow evening at 8pm, Upper Lunaton, Dragon’s Arms.” Luc informed Leonard, handing him back his phone.
Leonard took it back and looked down at the woman’s profile, no bloody picture, brilliant. The name of the pub chosen did not bode well, with no picture maybe she’d chosen the pub as it represented her looks. He then looked down at what she did for a living, hoping for some kind of clue.
“A secretary, are you kidding me…” he sputtered, staring at his phone, lost for words. Shit, Luc, she’s human.”
“Oui, there’s also a clause on my forgiveness.”
“Fine, what is it?” He could deal, I mean, a human was a piece of cake, so easy to manipulate.
“Five dates…”
“I can do that, absolutely,” Leonard jumped in, not hard to have a woman fawn over him for a couple of dates. It may be fun, she could be his sex toy for a couple of nights, they wouldn’t even have to talk. He could get into this, new playthings, no ties, maybe he’d keep the profile open afterwards, he thought as Luc spoke up again. He allowed the fantasies to run around in his head as he looked to him and his mouth dropped open at his next words.
Fuck.
“No sex,” Luc carried on, grinning at the look of horror on Leonards face as he sputtered.
“No sex? Five-dates and no sex. Are you yanking my fucking chain here or what? I mean, that even goes beyond the third date rule on sex; which is archaic these days.”
What was he meant to do with a human female if he wasn’t allowed to screw her?
“Take it or leave it,” Luc informed him impassively with a shrug.
“Fine, I’ll take it.” Leonard ground out, I mean what Luc didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. After all, rules were made to be broken.
“Oh, and just so you know, I’ll be checking that you’ve not gotten it on with her.”
“Oh, come on, for fuck sake, don’t you trust me,” Leonard whined. Man, he couldn’t believe he was going to make him date a woman and then cock block him. I mean, he didn’t date, not ever.
“Non,” Luc informed him dryly.
“Fine, you have a deal,” Leonard grumbled, taking back his phone from a grinning Luc. He was pissed, maybe he could just sit her in a corner as he flirted with other women. He said he couldn’t have sex with her, he’d not said he couldn’t have sex with others while he was with her. Maybe she’d like to watch, he thought, then looking up caught the smug look on Luc’s face.
“Jackass.”
“Imbecile,” Luc spat, clicking his tongue.
“I’ve missed this,” Leonard told him with a wry grin. He and Luc were interacting. Granted, it was more taking pot shots at each other, but he’d take it. It beat hands down the no interaction they’d previously had going on since the curse.
“If you begin painting each other’s nails, I’m revoking your man cards,” Balin told them with a shudder. He and Luc laughed at the look on Balin’s face, he looked pained as they bickered, and not from his injuries.
“Hi, I brought you food,” Lana said, stepping into the room with a tray, Sam on her heels.
Leonard blocked them out as they did the lovey dovey shit that seemed to be on overload around here these days.
“Leonard has a date,” Balin announced and he tuned back in, especially as Sam stared at him as if he’d grown another head.
He was capable of dating; he was, he just chose not to.
“Leonard?” Sam asked, incredulously. “No, not possible. You do not date, you bang and bail,” Sam informed him. “Shit, is he ill? Do I need to get him checked over when Thomas returns later?”
At the mention of Thomas’s name, the brunette in the corridor coming out of his office arose once again in his mind. Her softly spoken voice, the delicate shell of her ear as she’d bent to retrieve her folders, her nicely shaped arse and calves as she’d tottered off up the corridor. Their bickering interrupted his musings and the image vanished, making him sigh. It didn’t look like he’d get around her hunting her down anytime soon. He’d get there though, maybe after these dates. They carried on calling him, but he ignored it as he wasn't sure if he should feel offended.
They all spoke about him as if he wasn’t here, like he was some kind of weird, rare creature. Arseholes, he wasn’t unusual in his choices. There was nothing wrong with not dating, he enjoyed the variety he had in his life. Then thought about the nights he had no-one, the long, lonely nights he’d spent when he’d not had a woman in his bed. The nights he’d sat on his own before the trouble, in the form of Maisie and company. Okay, he’d admit it; if only to himself, Immortality could get lonely.
“No,” Balin grinned. “Luc set him up on a dating site.”
“Really?” Lana asked curiously, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Yes, Luc’s idea, a way to let the past between them go.”
“Oh dude, you got off lightly after the whole hocus pocus shit Luc got handed.” Lana told him and he grunted, he was not going to dignify that with an answer. His personal life was not up for discussion.
“He has to go on five-dates and he’s not allowed to have sex with her in that time.” Balin informed Lana with a wide, evil grin. Lana blinked, then turning and catching the look of distaste and horror that crossed Leonard’s face, she began laughing.
“I’m heading back downstairs. I think I’ve given enough entertainment value for one evening,” Leonard sniffed, before heading out of the room.
He’d had enough, he’d leave them to it. Now he knew Balin was a little better and no longer at death’s door, he had to try to figure out what he was meant to do with a human female. Shit. It’s a good job he had internet, because he was at a loss. Maybe he’d do a little digging into Thomas’s life too, see if he could find that little brunette in it anywhere. He’d recognise her scent anywhere, the subtle, but natural sweet smell of honeysuckle that had clung to her skin.
Chapter Three
L eonard couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this shit date. I mean a secretary, a human one at that. This had disaster written all over it.
He could see it now, his glamour working overtime and him spending five-dates fighting her off as he wasn’t allowed to have fuck her.
Now what kind of torture was that?
To be offered sex up on a plate, and he’d have to refuse, this made his teeth grind in annoyance. God, his knackers were going to be bigger than bowling balls by the end of this.
Vindictive bastards.
Yes, okay, it was only a temporary thing, and Luc had dealt with his curse for… well, way too many years to keep track of, but all he’d done was try to get the guy laid.
Okay, yes, he’d heard the rumours about Maisie. But, come on, who’d have believed she’d turn out to be a real-life psychotic, murdering bitch?
He’d thought he was doing Luc a favour, offering him up a sure thing while he got busy with a nymph.
Man, nymphs were his weakness, they were the absolute best in the sack. Gymnasts in fact, I mean who said no to a gymnast in the sack?
Sighing, he stared at his reflection, and yes, vampires have reflections. Humans were always spewing completely ludicrous shit about his kind.
Soulless, couldn’t go into churches and were allergic to sunlight and garlic.
He snorted at the thought. The only problem he had with garlic was it gave you horses arse breath after you’d eaten it. It had absolutely nothing to do with it doing them harm. As for the sun… I mean, come on, he had a great tan and enjoyed lying on the beach as much as the next person. As for churches, the only problem he had was the long-arsed sermons, definitely e
nough to bore you to death, and it took a lot to kill an immortal.
Grumbling under his breath, he tied his long black hair back and checked that the collar of his shirt was neat, over his jacket. With a last dismissive look in the full-length mirror, he exited his walk-in wardrobe. Grabbing his wallet and phone off his bedside drawer, left his bedroom.
Better get it over with, he had an hour to get to Upper Lunaton. His date was meeting him at some wine bar called ‘The Snail and Cabbage.’
Why she’d had to change the bar he had no idea. He’d even settle for the ‘Dragon’s Arms,’ which had been their original meet up place, but no, she’d changed it to the fucking slug.
I mean, what kind of a name was that for a ‘trendy’ bistro type wine bar? Sounded delightful.
God, give him strength. Bring back the ‘Wench in Hand,’ now that had been a bar, good times had been had in there. He’d spent many a pleasant night drinking and debauching in there and places like that, he thought with fondness.
Now, it was all pretentiousness, new money, ‘C’ list stars, and the ‘in place’ to be seen. The world had gone mad. Fucking selfies and social media had become the bane of his existence, constantly ducking so he wasn’t captured in photographs. No immortal worth their salt wanted unsolicited pictures floating around. They lived for a long time; if not forever, who wanted physical evidence of that. They’d end up in a laboratory somewhere being dissected so humans could gain understanding over their longevity. Obviously, they did everything in their power to stop that from happening and covering up their existence. Therefore, selfies, were not on the cards.
Making his way out, he locked up and set the alarm. Then, clicking the fob, he opened the door to his ride, because tonight he’d have to take a car. He didn’t drive often, being around his own kind he’d gotten used to being able to go on foot - and at speed. Obviously, with the bloody date being a human female, he’d had to go out and lease a vehicle. This Jane, Janel… whatever the hell she was called had better appreciate the effort he’d gone to. Christ, he didn’t even have a clue what she looked like, never mind what her name was. The site didn’t hold photographs as they based matches on personality and not looks. All he’d gotten was a name, and he’d forgotten it, not that it mattered. Apparently, he’d recognise her as she’d be wearing a red silk shirt and would meet him at the bar. He figured he wouldn’t have to worry, she’d come to him once his glamour took over. Once the queue of women; and the odd male made themselves known to him, he’d just read minds and figure out which one she was.
Piece of cake. The thought didn’t please him though, it filled him with dread. He was bored by the whole thing. Why the hell couldn’t he find a woman that was a challenge. I mean, he liked sex as much as the next person. Well, actually, he loved sex, but sometimes it would be nice if he had to work for it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever had to do that, if ever.
He’d had to leave the others back in Lower Lunaton taking care of a dead delivery driver and an unconscious, ripped up shifter. Why they thought it was more important for him to come on this date, he didn’t know. Apart from Sam Nelson’s assurance that his slow torture and blue knackers would cheer his son up; his son being Balin. Well, his adopted son, as Sam had rescued and brought him up after his family had been murdered. Balin’s own life then had been uncertain for a while when he was a young child also due to his injuries. Weirdly enough, Maisie had been behind killing his parents, and trying to kill him as a child too. Man, she was a real piece of work, and the sooner they found and ended the psycho’s immortal life, the better for everyone.
He’d much rather be out there looking for her, than heading out on a stupid date with a human he didn’t know and couldn’t fuck. Grumbling under his breath, he slid into the driver’s seat of the Maserati he’d hired for the week, closed the door and turned over the engine. Smiling at the purring of the car, he took off down his driveway and through the electric gates of his home.
Chapter Four
A manda was an interfering bitch, Jill huffed as she got ready for her date. Standing in nothing but her underwear, she snorted at the thought as she pulled more clothes out of her wardrobe. The pile on her bed was growing as she tried to decide what to wear. She couldn’t believe she’d let Amanda talk her into this. I mean, she’d been happy wallowing in self misery and spending time with B.O.B. She did not need a man, had, in fact, given up trying to find one. As far as she was concerned if the right one was out there, he’d find her without her being tortured on yet another crappy date.
Well, eventually, right?
Red, dark-red, maroon, burgundy or scarlet? She eyed the blouses on her bed with contempt, then sighing, dropped down on the side of it, head in hands.
Why had she agreed to this again?
Oh, yes, she wanted a penis that didn’t need batteries. One that was attached to a male that occasionally talked shit back to her. Then, after yet another round of disappointing sex, would roll over, fart and snore like a thunder storm.
Man, she wanted the dream, she chuckled.
“Bollocks,” she huffed, throwing herself backwards on the bed and staring at the ceiling, morosely.
Was she really going to put herself through this, again?
Just then her mobile phone rang on her bedside drawer. Rolling onto her side, she reached out an arm and turned it, so that she could see the screen.
Get dressed already and stop fucking about, Amanda x
Yes, it seemed she was doing this. Otherwise, Amanda would appear at her door and frog march her to the meet up place.
Looking down her body, she stared at the tiny, lace red thong and matching uplifting bra and scowled.
“Should have put on a pair of big girl panties,” she groaned. Then rolling over, pushed herself back up. Her phone beeped again just as she’d opened the top drawer in her bedside chest of drawers. Her hand was inside, reaching for her big knickers; her go to comfort, when another message popped up on the screen. She stared at it, mouth pinched, then pulled out her tongue, removed her empty hand and slammed the drawer shut again.
Damn, that woman knew her too well.
Leave on the sexy undies! I swear, if you put on your grannie knickers, I’ll beat you within an inch of your life. Now, hustle your arse, go out, flirt, drink and have fun. Oh, and phone me to let me have all the gory details. Amanda x
Fuck.
She stomped to her bigger chest of drawers under the window and pulled out her favourite skinny jeans. Then thrust them back inside, remembering that the trendy bar didn’t allow denim. Back to her wardrobe, she pulled out two hangers, then closed her eyes, trying to decide whether to go with dress pants or a skirt. Deciding that she couldn’t be bothered with stockings she put the skirt back and took the black dress pants to her bed. Laying them across the top, she then tried each blouse against them. Undecided, she growled, then did the old, eeny, meenie, miny, mo, until her hand landed on the scarlet blouse. Quickly, she pulled it on, and stepped into the pants, fastening them before slipping her feet into her three-inch black heels. She put all the other blouses back in her wardrobe; along with the hangar from her pants, and moved over to her dressing table.
Sitting on the stool, she quickly applied her make-up. A bit of powder, a dusting of tan shadow, some mascara on her eyes, and applied some red to her lips. Staring at her wavy brown hair, she decided on an up do, to make her look more sophisticated. Once up, she pulled a few strands down to frame her face, and a dab of her favourite perfume, between the girls - down the neck of her blouse. She looked at her bare ear lobes, and grabbed her dropped pearl earrings, finishing off the look.
Her phone beeped again, so pushing up from the stool, she walked over to it, finding a text from the taxi company to tell her the taxi was outside waiting for her. Just then it beeped again.
Move it already, the taxi has the address. Remember, play nice and I want details. Amanda x
“Fine, I’m going,” she mumbled, grabbing her b
ag and jacket on her way out of the door, before she could change her mind. Rooting through the contents of her bag for her purse and finding it there, she dropped her phone inside with her keys; after locking her front door.
Chapter Five
J ill paid the taxi and got out. Taking a breath, she straightened her jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder and headed towards the entrance. The doorman opened the door for her, and the over loud sounds of the interior rushed out to greet her in a raucous crescendo. Glass on glass sounded as people drank, loud chattering and laughter, all mixed together over the background sound of ear splitting music.
Why had she let Amanda talk her into changing the meet up place from her local?
Smiling her thanks at the burly man, Jill stepped inside, then slowly wound her way between groups and tables to get to the bar in the far back corner of the room. Looking at the clock above the bar, she realised that she was late – only ten-minutes – but late, was still late. She found an empty bar stool and made herself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as she could be in the circumstances. Finally perched there, giggles to her right caught her attention.
