Crimson Groves

Home > Paranormal > Crimson Groves > Page 7
Crimson Groves Page 7

by Ashley Robertson


  “And if I don’t, then what? I’m kind of stuck here forever.”

  Lily’s eyes widened. She definitely didn’t have a come back.

  So without even moving, I was back at the mirror again, staring blankly at it.

  Although I wanted to tell Lily how horrible Bronx really was and how I would flee from here in a New York second if I got the chance, I couldn’t risk her having that knowledge. Bronx could easily persuade her and find out anything I had shared with her. Some secrets are best kept that way. Actually all of them are.

  There was movement in the corner of my eye. Footsteps whispered closer. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. It was Lily. She walked right up to me and threw her arms around me, her body so warm and inviting. Her pulse was even, steady. I returned the embrace. A flush of warmth shot up my neck, inside my head.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “You’re going to be just fine. Plus, you should be extremely excited about tonight. You’re getting out of this house and that should help you feel a lot better.”

  I nestled deeper inside the hug, completely speechless.

  Lily is a little taller than me by a couple inches or so, and her skin is the color mine used to be: lightly tanned. We wear the same size, which was how I had the extra clothes here. She came twice in the first week after I was turned, the second time bringing me three pairs of jeans and three tee shirts. Thank God for her, since all I had before that was my work uniform.

  “Okay. You’re right.” I nodded, pulling out of her arms.

  She smiled at me with those beaming brown eyes and then grabbed the brush lying on the vanity in the bathroom. She ran it through my hair one last time.

  “Go on now before he comes in here to get you,” she teased.

  “Will you stay? I know you must want to get home, but I could really use your company. Just a little while longer.”

  “Adam will be here soon. I’d love to stay, but I don’t think it’s such a great idea. But I’ll see you again at Pulse.” She hesitated for a moment, brown eyes still locked on me.

  “Okay. I guess that will work.”

  The friendship forming between Lily and I was unlike any of my friendships when I was human. It was special and wonderful, and very terrifying. The sting of what Mandy and John did still lingered inside me like a smell that never leaves your nose. And yet with Lily, I’d let most of my guard down, which was something I’d never imagined doing again.

  Without lingering another moment, I headed out of the bedroom, holding my non-existent breath as I walked toward the living room. It was showtime.

  Bronx admired me from across the room, smile gleaming, tongue dancing over his lips, and eyes sparkling like twin stars. Then he flashed over to me. “You look gorgeous.” He brushed his fingers through my hair.

  “Thank you.” I took a step backwards. He grabbed a handful of my hair, jerked me back to him. It stung a little.

  “Abigail, Abigail, always trying to get away from me. The day is coming when you will no longer make those efforts.”

  Every insult you can imagine built up inside my throat, but I swallowed them back down and just smiled. Several awkward minutes passed by and then he finally let go of my hair. I turned and flashed back to the bedroom. Lily helped me try on the other things while she waited for Adam to pick her up.

  A black pencil skirt with a pale pink silk, button-up top—both skin-tight—presented another uncomfortable moment with Bronx. This time he leaned in and kissed my cheek. There was also a baby doll-styled dress. I liked it much better than the last one. It was black with red lace on the chest area. There was a low scooping neckline that looked really sexy. It sat high above my knees, and my work shoes, the black Dr. Marten’s mid-calf boots, looked amazing with it.

  And last, there was a dark pair of designer jeans with white stitching detail around the pockets. Those paired nicely with a white V-neck cotton tee. Bronx loved the dresses the most and told me to wear the one I liked best. That was an easy decision for me.

  At quarter ’til midnight, I sat alone in the living room wearing the baby doll dress and black boots. Adam had picked Lily up over an hour ago and Bronx was in the bedroom getting ready. I nervously twisted strands of my hair. The anxiety and excitement for the night ahead was overwhelming. I would most likely need to run the brush through my hair again before leaving.

  Bronx strolled out from the hallway and made a beeline for the sofa where I was sitting. He wore black jeans and a long-sleeved, black button-up shirt with a red cross-shaped graphic on the back and extra stitching around the pockets on each pectoral. His hair was slicked to the sides and neatly tucked behind his ears. This was the first time I thought he looked nice since he’d turned me.

  Because he loved to hear himself talk, he broke the silence and pretty much talked my ear off until we heard a car pull into the driveway. We were both outside in the blink of a human eye, and once I saw the wheels we were riding in, I felt my jaw drop open.

  A black stretch hummer limo sprawled out, taking up most of the extended driveway. Holy crap! I’d never ridden in a limo before, let alone a hummer limo. The streetlights provided minimal light, but the limo still glistened in it.

  The driver stepped out and greeted us. He was forty-something, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair, a narrow face, and a pointed chin. The black suit he wore fit loosely on his tall, lanky frame. He guided us to the back door, the door you’d see the celebrities exit when heading to a premier event.

  Bronx helped me crawl inside and I scooted down a slick leather sofa. Vegas-style neon pink and green lights lined the ceiling and around the dark-tinted windows. Bronx crawled in beside me and popped the top off a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, which conveniently sat in an iced bucket on the mini built in bar directly across from us. It was my favorite champagne.

  He offered me a glass, sparkling white bubbles dancing at the top, and toasted to our evening. It was going to be a tough night to have a bad time. Cheers.

  7

  Pulse

  OUR DRIVER PULLED UP TO THE CLUB, which was located on the bottom floor of a huge, three-story, rectangular-shaped building. The name of the club was in red neon script on an oval-shaped black sign dangling below a red awning. A line of people wrapped around the side of the building, waiting to get inside. They gaped at our fancy vehicle as we came to a stop near the entrance. It made me feel nervous, and a little insecure, while I waited for the driver to come retrieve us. He motioned for me to exit first, taking my hand with his long, boney fingers. Once I was completely out of the limo, I felt a chill in the air. Out of habit, I brushed my arms with my hands even though I wasn’t cold. Bronx tipped the driver and took my hand. This obviously wasn’t an optional handholding. When I tried to pull away, his grip just tightened.

  Instead of getting in line behind all the other people, we walked straight up to the front. The dirty looks we got from the impatient crowd made me wonder if they’d stone us to death right here.

  “Hey Bronx, this must be your new lady friend.” The enormous doorman observed me with small, piggy eyes, moving up and down very slowly. He was a little taller than Bronx, maybe six two, with dark skin, a round pillowy face, and weighed at least three hundred pounds. He was holding a tiny black flashlight with his left hand, and reached out to shake Bronx’s with his right one, forcing Bronx to let go of me. Thank God.

  “Abigail, this is G,” Bronx said. “G, this is the lovely Abigail.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said as I shook his hand. His chubby fingers felt squishy.

  “Likewise.” G stepped to the side and then hurried us in. Bronx slipped some cash into his awaiting fingers as we passed by.

  “Your room’s ready whenever you are,” G called out to us and then turned around to address the next person in line.

  My eyes flitted all over, taking in everything I saw as we walked through the club. There were a lot of people already here. Candles and black lights dimly lit the darkened atmo
sphere. There were a couple bars, a dance floor, and a lounge area with loveseats, chairs, and tables. Royal blue, red, and black were the colors that decorated each zone.

  Bronx placed his arm back around me as we made our way to the bar closest to the lounge. The glass countertop revealed black stones and white tea candles underneath. I set my arm on top and leaned down, allowing the bar to support me. A lot of people obviously knew Bronx, and he was talking to a few of them while waiting for his Crown and Coke. He ordered a vodka club soda with a lime for me. Vampires love drinking alcohol. It takes the edge off the blood cravings.

  This was my first time seeing vampires aside from Bronx. There were so many of them intermingled with the humans. Their scent was easily discernable—dead, cold, and empty.

  I overheard Bronx saying my name. As I looked back his way, a hand stretched out to me. “Hey Abigail, I’m Brennan and this is William.” They were both vampires.

  “Nice to meet you both, and please feel free to call me Abby.”

  Brennan was about the same height as Bronx and had short blond hair. William was a little shorter and had longer blond hair about down to his shoulders, kind of like a surfer. “No problem, Abby,” Brennan corrected himself. “It’s just so nice to meet the woman that took Bronx off the market. You wouldn’t believe how many women he’s turned down. You’re going to make them all very jealous tonight.”

  “Very jealous,” William agreed. He broke out into one of those annoying, pitchy laughs, slightly hunching over, hand rubbing his belly. “Where have you kept this one hidden, Bronx? There just might be some catfights tonight!”

  Bronx elbowed William in the gut, making him step back. His laughter faded as if the volume were being turned down. “Don’t worry, man,” William smarted, “I ain’t flirting with your girl.” Then he looked at me. “Sorry if I offended you, Abby.”

  I smiled, unable to think of anything witty to say, so I stayed quiet.

  Bronx handed over my drink and apologized for William’s juvenile outburst. I think it bothered him more than me. The two vampires continued to stand near us, so Bronx took my hand and pulled me away. As he led me through the lounge, I heard one of my old favorite songs playing, “Just Like a Man” by Way Out West.

  Bronx sat down on a royal blue velvet loveseat, pulling me down next to him. Two vampires sat across from us in red, padded chairs. I learned they were old friends of Bronx’s, Damon and Valentina. We all shook hands.

  “Bronx tells me that you’re about a month reborn. Welcome to the new life,” Valentina purred. She smiled, but it looked forced. She was tall and thin, her long legs tucked under a black leather mini-skirt; her shoulder-length red hair was so dark it almost looked black, and she was definitely in her forties when she was turned. Whatever age you are when you’re “transformed” into our kind is just how old you’ll look for the rest of eternity. No way to steal any youth back. Fortunately, there was no more aging either.

  “Thanks. There’s been so much to learn and so many new experiences.” I took a few sips of my drink.

  “Ah, yes. There is so much to learn,” Damon added. With black leather pants with a silver chain dangling from the side pocket, matching leather jacket, and scuffed black boots, he looked like he’d just rode in on a Harley. He wasn’t wearing a shirt under his jacket, and the top of his chest looked like marble: solid, hairless, and glossy. “It’s been so long I had almost forgotten.”

  “Abigail has done very well this past month. That is why we are here tonight.” Bronx put his arm around me, fingers pressing into my shoulder.

  Valentina’s lips puckered. Her eyebrows squished together, making her crow’s-feet look deeper. Was she going to start pouting next? “Well good for you,” she said, eyes glaring at me. “We are all so very proud of you.” I didn’t have to be a vampire to know she was being a bitch. That’s something a woman can sense easily from other women, whether human, vampire, or anything else. I don’t need any advanced senses to determine that.

  “Behave Valentina!” Damon scolded. “You should respect Bronx’s decision to be with Abby.” Apparently Damon had picked up on her bitchy attitude too. Was she being obvious on purpose? She was behaving like a scorned ex-girlfriend with a score to settle. But since Bronx didn’t send out these vibes, I doubted they had ever dated at all.

  “Valentina,” Bronx said, instantly getting her full attention. “Abigail is an amazing woman. In time you will see it for yourself. We are here to celebrate. Let us get back to that, shall we?” He pulled me closer to him. Anxiously, I kept sucking at my drink. Then I heard that annoying slurping sound a straw makes on an empty glass.

  Turning to Bronx I said, “I’d like to get another drink at the bar.” When he didn’t say anything, I added, “Please.”

  He looked away from the other vampires, locking eyes with me. “There is a waitress that should be here any minute.”

  That answer wasn’t good enough. I needed to get away from psycho bitch vampire and her man friend. Most of all, I wanted out of Bronx’s embrace. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Please. The bar is close by and it’d be nice to just walk around a little more. I’ll be in your sight the entire time.”

  He took a moment to answer me. “All right, but stay where I can see you. I will come get you shortly.”

  “Thanks.”

  I got up and dashed away without looking back. I felt Valentina’s eyes all over me—it was like wearing dirty clothes and you can’t wait to take them off. I almost asked her if she wanted to take a picture since they last longer. But thankfully, I kept my mouth shut. I just didn’t need any more drama right now.

  I felt much better at the bar. Relief lifted off my shoulders like I was getting a good spot during a shoulder press. Before I could order my drink, I felt two warm hands cover my eyes. A hushed voice spoke from behind me, warm breath on my ears. “Guess who?”

  I jolted around, excited. Lily hugged me and then Adam shook my hand. “I’m so glad to see you guys,” I said while making room for Lily to squeeze in beside me at the bar.

  “I’ll see you girls later,” Adam said. “I’ve got to go meet someone.”

  “See ya later, alligator,” Lily replied and then turned her attention to me. “So how are you holding up out here in the real world? Is it different than you thought?”

  “Yes it is. I’m so nervous around the other vamp—”

  Her hand rushed to my mouth, fingers pressing hard, cautious. “Shhh,” she said, voice soft and low. “Be careful how loud you say that, it’s a privacy thing at most clubs like this.” She leaned a little closer, her lips close to my ear. “Don’t worry about the other ones like you in here. They’re all pretty nice—for the most part, anyway. Let me buy you a drink. It’ll help take the edge off.”

  I can’t talk about vampires at a vampire nightclub? Figuring there were more details to unfold, I accepted her gracious offer, and as soon as our drinks arrived, we cheered to the night’s events. It was, after all, my first time out in public as a vampire, and I did look smoking hot in this baby doll dress. Lily looked pretty hot too. She wore a stretchy navy tank dress, tan, knee-high boots, and a French braid pulled back her hair, loose strands framing her face.

  I glanced back toward Bronx. Valentina moved over to sit beside him and the three of them seemed enthralled in whatever they were talking about. It encouraged me to ask Lily more questions. “There are a lot of humans in here that don’t know about vamp—I mean us?” I said it like a question, voice barely a whisper.

  She nodded, eyes wary.

  “I thought this club was a blood donor hot spot.” My lips fumbled for the straw in my drink.

  “Abby, most of these clubs rely on humans for a lot of their business profits. They can’t just shut them out because of that, so they designed these places for us to secretly coexist. Only “your kind” and the donors know about the back rooms where the feedings take place. There is heavy security throughout the club, mostly “your kind” since they
can sense the difference between a donor and just a normal person. We never discuss anything about “your kind” or what we do with them unless it’s someone we know. If anyone is ever caught slipping on this, you never see him or her again. None of us ever dare to risk it.”

  “That makes sense. Thanks for telling me. Bronx sort of forgot to mention that.” Not that he needed to. He wouldn’t give me a chance to talk to anyone that he didn’t approve of, let alone some innocent human.

  We sat in silence a few short minutes, smiling, people watching, and drinking our drinks. Then I saw Bronx get up and head my way. Oh great. Here he comes to ruin my night.

  I flashed him a smile as he approached, hoping it would be a good move on my part. He smiled back and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the barstool. “It is time for you to come with me.” His gaze locked on me. It felt like he was trying to use persuasion on me, warm invisible claws prying at my mind, but that feeling quickly passed as I stood up.

  I said, “Let me just say goodbye to Lily.” Then I looked over at her with desperate eyes and leaned down to hug her. “See ya later.”

  Bronx yanked my arm, pulling me away.

  Gee, how freaking rude. He couldn’t wait two minutes for me to say goodbye to Lily? Even worse, he never acknowledged that she was there. She must have felt horrible. I decided to keep my thoughts to myself on this, storing them in the back of my mind. It seemed like Bronx was easy to provoke, and that was the absolute last thing I wanted to do here at the club.

  Bronx led me around the lounge area. Valentina was sitting back next to Damon. She glared at me as we passed. We came to a narrow hallway. A security guard stood blocking it: dark skin, a little shorter than Bronx, stocky build. His black tee barely stretched around his muscles. He’d definitely been no stranger to the gym before he was made a vampire.

  He must’ve recognized Bronx because he let us pass without speaking a single word. Bronx led me a little farther down and then we turned into another hallway. Doors lined the walls, four on each side. We took the last door on the right. The room was big enough to hold two modern-looking black couches, a couple matching chairs, a few end tables, and two male blood donors. They were sitting on one of the couches. Blood-colored shag carpet covered the floor; pictures of the Renaissance era with thick gaudy frames hung on the black lacquer walls.

 

‹ Prev