Caressed by the Edge of Darkness

by Amanda J. Greene

  Now, standing backstage waiting for the band to set up, she asked herself, why the hell am I here? That question had haunted her over the past few days. She didn’t belong. Not at Ruin. Not at the hote. Not with Gabriel. It was the story of her life. As a child she hadn’t fit in at the group homes or with a single foster family and she really didn’t fit in his world. She was human with hunter roots and as much as she enjoyed Las Vegas, she couldn’t see herself staying in his city.

  Why the hell am I here? She’d easily answered the question before with: money, freedom, getting my life together.

  Jordan rolled her eyes. The reason she hadn’t ditched Sin City days ago was the man avoiding her. Why did he have to play really, really, hard to get? She just wanted to seduce him and…maybe…somehow make him hers forever.

  “Twenty minutes till doors open!” Rowena’s strong voice echoed through the club and dropped kicked Jordan back to reality.

  Good lord, she truly had lost her mind. Make Gabriel hers forever? Hello you’re mortal. Bar tending a vamps only club was one thing, trying to seduce a king among vampires was another. If he doesn’t show tonight, I’m gone.

  She’d only been here two nights and she’d already pocketed enough cash to head out on her own. These high roller vamps knew how to tip: a Benjamin or three, a ring, a bracelet, loose gems. She’d made enough for a first class ticket to anywhere and at least six-month’s worth of rent on a swanky apartment. But she’d keep it low key, catch a bus and find a cute studio.

  Ruin was unlike anything she’d ever seen or experienced. A blend of ancient decadence and modern amenities. The architectural design, Corinthian columns, polished marble floors, high ceilings, and soft lighting, provided a Grecian temple setting for the black leather booths, crushed red velvet settees, tables, chairs, and barstools. A long, mahogany bar stretched the length of one wall, the back bar and bottles glowed red and faced the stage. Off to the side were private rooms accessible by a shadowed hall. Jordan had overheard a few servers discussing a blood sharing orgy that had taken place in those rooms just last week.

  Gannon had dumped her down the rabbit hole.

  Definitely not in Sunshine and Rainbows Land anymore.

  Her first night on the job she half expected to see Hades sitting at the bar, Aphrodite entertaining herself with some lucky men in a darkened booth, and Zeus lounging on a settee, sipping ambrosia.

  And after a crash course of “How to Mix Drinks Vampire Style”, a speed test, and pop quiz with Zara, Jordan had split her time manning a station behind the bar and serving. Most customers liked having a token human on the team, others hissed at her, baring their fangs, but she didn’t bat an eye. She wasn’t running scared and hadn’t flinched when one vampire grabbed her arm and sniffed her wrist.

  Shifting her focus, Jordan exited the stage and headed down the hall to the dressing rooms. She had to slip into her barely there uniform before doors opened. Never had she worn so little, but the outfit helped with tips, no question. The cropped, black leather halter top had been made to her exact measurements to display her breasts and waist perfectly. The matching micro mini skirt just covered her ass and the thigh high, heeled boots were thankfully comfortable.

  Jordan passed Rowena’s office and caught the light sound of Zara’s giggle. Those two put a smile on her face. Seriously, the sweetest couple she’d ever seen. After two hundred years they were still smitten with each other. And, besides Ron, the head of security—Mountain Man in stature and looks—they were the only two who spoke to her. The bartenders and other servers were polite, for the most part, and kept their distance. But there were two bubble headed waitresses that currently tied for first place on Jordan’s shit list: Tana and Monique.

  She gritted her teeth, recalling their meeting on her first night. The leggy blonde-duo had sniffed her out, literally. They had entered the club just before opening hours. Tana’s nose scrunched up as if she’d taken a whiff of a moldy milk carton while Monique’s expression turned dreamy.

  “Human,” Tana whispered, her voice twisted with disgust.

  Monique longingly sighed, “Erhard.”

  Their eyes immediately snapped to Jordan, who inwardly groaned, Great. Bitch alert. Unfolding her arms she met their rude stare.

  “Rowena!”

  “It’s her,” Monique gasped in horrified awe. “She smells like—”

  “Rowena!”

  Rowena shoved open the door that concealed the hall to her office and the employee dressing rooms. “Damn, Tana, what?”

  Zara followed, quickly repining her hair. Once her dark curls were back in place she shot Jordan a reassuring smile.

  Tana pointed a finger in Jordan’s direction. “What is that doing here?”

  Zara muttered in French and glared at the pair.

  “She’s on the pay roll,” Rowena answered.

  “No,” they both hissed, then Monique added, “I don’t believe it,” while Tana said, “Gabriel would never force us to work alongside a mortal.” She gagged on the last word.

  “His Majesty,” Rowena sternly corrected, “would, he did, and you both will be civil.”

  “Civil? To her?” Tana sputtered.

  “Humans are not permitted at the club unless sponsored,” Monique added.

  “Can’t you tell, she is sponsored?” Rowena countered.

  All four women took in a deep breath and Jordan got the strangest feeling. Were they smelling her? What the flip?

  “He wouldn’t,” Monique exhaled.

  Dismissing the weird moment and hoping to smooth things out, Jordan offered, “If it’s any consolation, I won’t be here long.”

  Tana flashed her fangs, her light brown eyes darkening. “No. You won’t. I bet you won’t be able to make it through the first hour without begging a customer to tap your vein.”

  “They’ll line up at the bar to have a taste,” Monique spat. “I hope they drain you dry.”

  “Speaking from experience, ladies?” Jordan didn’t know if it was her courage or attitude that pissed them off more and she didn’t care.

  “Snarky bitch. You’ll learn your place mortal, I’ll see to that,” Tana growled low.

  Jordan smiled. “Please, try your best. It’ll make witnessing your failure all the more sweet.”

  The blondes lunged toward her, but Rowena blocked their attack. “That’s enough! Jordan is under my protection and is here by His Majesty’s orders.”

  Jordan could tell they wanted to continue arguing but they bit their tongues.

  If only those two would’ve remained silent, she thought as she entered her private dressing room. Tana and Monique delighted themselves by tossing insults at her. Nothing she hadn’t heard before. But they hit her where it hurts whenever they mentioned Gabriel. As if they knew her plan to seduce the king, they liked to remind her how much he despised humans. “He’ll never bed you. Human women are weak, sniveling creatures. Too low for him to notice.” Tana would say. “He’d rather rip your throat out than give you the pleasure of his bite,” Monique would add. But their favorite phrase, “You won’t survive the week,” made Jordan feel like introducing their faces to the bar top.

  Zara had told her to pay them no attention. “Their threats are as empty as their heads,” she’d said.

  Whatever. It didn’t matter. She’d finish her shift tonight, pack her things, and peace out.. It was better if she ended her attraction now. She’d hoped for...more. More of what? A relationship, love, sex. Just nights ago she’d thought she could make him see past his hate and prejudice. That she could win him. It was a silly idea. She’d been dreaming of him since they met all those months ago. When she wasn’t plotting ways to escape or kill her guards, he’d dominated her lucid thoughts, but fantasy would not become reality.

  Gabriel’s touch had been electrifying, their kisses life changing, but after everything that had happened, everything she’d experienced, was it Gabriel she truly desired or had she just been searching for comfort, affection, an
d physical contact? No, it had been connection. He understood her in a way no one else could. He’d survived the slave trade, but unlike him she hadn’t built impenetrable walls around her heart. Was she suffering from a classic case of wanting what she couldn’t have? Or was it a case of damsel falls for her rescuer? If she was only looking for companionship, would she respond to another man the same way?

  Only one way to know.

  She had to find another guy. But who? Gannon was seriously some kind of fine but he was Gabriel’s best friend.

  Yeah, so not going there.

  Ron was a sweetheart. Behind the wild, dark hair and scruffy beard, he was handsome. Tall, thickly muscled, he was intimidating but had a good sense of humor.

  She shook her head. Nope. She’d never dated a co-worker and now wasn’t the time start.

  Maybe a patron of the bar…or a member of the band?

  Wow! When had she suddenly become hot for vamps? She rolled her eyes. Ask a stupid question…

  She just needed to know if another’s kiss would heat her blood like Gabriel’s did. Once she got the answer, she could easily walk away from the vampire king with no questions or lingering regrets.

  Rowena had insisted on bringing the band in tonight after she caught Jordan singing earlier during bar prep. She hadn’t been looking forward to it, but now…? She’d take advantage and perform a little kiss experiment.

  The bass player was a blond cutie with a punker vibe. She had noticed him immediately and he’d been checking her out while his band set up. His smile was easy, charming in a love’em and leave’em kind of way. She hadn’t gotten his name, but they’d have time to talk before the show. Oh, yeah, he’ll do.

  Ignore the human and you’ll forget her. Ignore the desire and it will fade.

  Gabriel scented her from across the room. Instantly, his gaze was on her. Damn, he was pathetic and weak, but the drive to see her wouldn’t ebb. He’d come to check on her, to make sure the patron’s had been minding their manners with the human, and to find himself some female entertainment for later. He didn’t have to speak with her…or kiss her…or touch her… The human had him wound tight. He should’ve fucked her that last night, exercise his craving for her, purge his mind, his heart, his soul of her. But, instinctively, he knew if he took her to his bed, he’d never let her go.

  Jordan stood at a table of vampires, taking their orders, her profile to him. Her deep, burgundy hair shimmered with gold and purple under the glow of the club’s soft lighting. The silken mane slipped over her shoulders to frame her full breasts, barely contained by the leather halter, and spilled down her back to accentuate her slim waist and round hips. The mortal had dangerous curves and the crimson fishnet stockings she wore with the too-short skirt and boots was a maddening combination. He wanted those long legs of hers locked around his waists, the heels of her boots spurring him on as he plunged into her—

  He scowled. The uniform was smaller than he remembered. Since the club had opened, Rowena had dressed both male and female employees proactively. This was Las Vegas after all and he never really cared, never really noticed. He’d owned hundreds of bars, clubs, and similar establishments over the centuries, scantily clad women were a given in this industry, expected. But the almost non-existent uniform on Jordan…He had to fight the impulse to stalk across the club, toss her over his shoulder and take her to one of the private rooms, or a closet, or, hell, the nearest shadowed alcove would do. Take. Ravage.

  He was half way across the room, ready to carry her off when he realized what he was doing and steered toward his private booth. Jordan’s melodic laugh carried over the cacophony of voices. The sound was so out of place in the harsh surroundings and it drew the attention of nearly every male within ear shot. Gabriel bit back an aggravated growl. Others coveted his woman. His unclaimed, unmarked woman.

  With a violent shake of his head, he dispelled those thoughts. If she wanted other male’s attention she could have it. Jordan didn’t belong to him.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d show.” Row exclaimed as he slid on to the seat.

  Gabriel grunted in response. He shouldn’t be here, he had business to attend to. He had a group of faction leaders coming in tonight for a sit-down. Two of which had been guests at Boras’s auction. Yet another example of his appalling weakness when it came to the human. She had him shirking his duties.

  “I assume you’d like some company.” Row waved to a group of women who instantly appeared at her side.

  He inwardly cringed as the quartet slid in next to him, two females on each side. Their hands immediately began to stroke his arms, his chest, and thighs. On impulse, he wanted to tell the ladies to shove off, but he hesitated. The last two nights he’d thrown himself into his work and drove his body to exhaustion training and sparing with his soldiers. Anything to keep his mind off of…don’t say it, don’t even think her name…Jordan. But every sunrise, he lay in his chilled room and empty bed, the steel curtains covered the windows, blocking the scorching desert sun, his thoughts would drift to her and how incredibly gorgeous she’d looked as she came for him. The pink flush of her cheeks, the glow of her violet eyes, the sound of her crying out his name as she climaxed. Helpless against the lust she ignited within him, he’d stroked himself to completion then cursed the little human for haunting him, for tormenting him.

  Gabriel’s lips curled in the corner. Row had assumed correctly, he did want company. A bevy of beautiful women was what he needed to take his mind off the mortal, to release some pressure.

  He relaxed, spread his arms over the top of the booth, and welcomed their play.

  “He’s here.”

  Jordan frowned as the whisper swept like a tidal wave through the club. As she headed toward the bar to fill her drink orders a chorus of female voices sang:

  “Oh, he’s so freak’in hot.”

  “God, those women are lucky.”

  “I’d let him do anything, have anything he wanted if I was in his bed.”

  She sidled up to Zara, “I didn’t see the He Man that made all the girl’s panties wet. I feel left out.”

  “Oui, sexy, Erhard just walked on by.”

  Damn, it! She’d missed him. Jordan casually scanned the club, her gaze touching every table, settee and booth. Where was he? Had he gone backstage? Her eyes snapped back to a booth in the far corner.

  Jordan gasped, her skin pricked with chills.

  Gabriel’s crystal green eyes flickered like a match in the darkness. His sizzling gaze stroked over her every curve. Imagining his hands following the same route, she shivered. As if he’d heard her thoughts, he smiled, revealing his sharpening fangs and just like that Jordan was swept into another world. One where only she and Gabriel existed. One touch. Please just one touch….one kiss. Her breaths shallow, her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened under is hungry stare.

  The air in the club charged with sexual electricity, drowning out the voices and music, all forgotten. She whispered his name and licked her suddenly tingling lips in anticipation.

  He turned his head, severing their connection and slamming her back to reality. She was in a club. His club. Had anyone noticed? She glanced around, the conversations had continued. Thank god. She didn’t need everyone knowing she had a thing for the boss.

  She flipped her gaze back to Gabriel and…bile rose in her throat. He wasn’t alone. Four women crowded his booth, their hands all over him. One whispered in his ear and he...wrapped an arm around her shoulders to draw her in closer. Jordan’s grip on her tray tightened, her knuckles cracked and the board snapped in half.

  A lance of anger…jealousy…both cut through her, the pain made her tear ducts sting. Frustrated, hurt, and pissed, her vision blurred red. Jerk ward!

  She should march over to the table, drag the women away by the hair and then slap that smug expression off Gabriel’s too handsome face. How could he so carelessly flaunt his other women in front of her? Because he despises humans and would never take one as a girl
friend. Well, message fucking received.

  He didn’t want her. He rescued her because it was the right thing to do. No, it was the humane thing to do. He’d pitied her, like she were some abused, helpless animal. She’d thought, for the first time, she’d found someone who saw her. Truly saw her. God, she was a fool.

  She’d thought that maybe, with him, she could belong. Finally. Like the Gordons. Old scars burned. She’d believed, after years of heartache, that she’d found a family. People to accept her, love her, protect her, but she’d been wrong. She hadn’t belonged with them and she didn’t belong with him.

  Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath. One, two, three. She exhaled and opened her eyes to see Zara’s concerned face and the conniving glare of the bitchy-blonde-duo.

  Crap!

  “The human desires the king,” Tana laughed. “How pathetic.”

  “You’ll never have him,” Monique grinned.

  “You won’t even get a pity fuck out of him.”

  Jordan’s hands began to shake. Don’t kill them. Don’t kill them.

  Row waved to the bar and they wrapped their arms around each other’s waists. “That’s our cue,” they chimed in unison and practically skipped off toward Gabriel’s booth. God help her, tonight would be a triumph if she didn’t murder those two.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Zara whispered.

  Jordan shook her head. “I’m good.” She set the pieces of her tray down on the counter. “They’re welcome to him.”

  “He doesn’t sleep with the staff. Never has.”

  Sadly, that made Jordan feel a little better. If she couldn’t have him at least Tana and Monique wouldn’t have him either. But, if he was interested in adding two women to the four he already had, it wouldn’t be a struggle.

  “Hey, Red,” Row called as she approached. “What are you still doing out here. You need to get ready. You’re on in less than five.” She glanced between the two women and asked, “Did I miss something?”