by Mallory, H P
“I apologize for offending you. I seem to lose my wits where you are concerned.”
I was spared the need to respond as the limo came to a halt and moments later, our driver opened the door. I hopped down and glanced up at the restaurant before us, The Chateaus. It was the same place Bram had taken me when I’d agreed to a first “date” with him. I had half a mind to leave him at the curb and walk inside without him but forced myself not to. This was Bram’s big night, and I didn’t want to embarrass him. Granted, he’d just tried to molest me but hopefully he’d learned his lesson. And I’d learned my lesson to pack heat no matter where I was going or who I was seeing—you never knew when some jackass vampire was going to try to nibble your goodies.
The jackass vampire in question was beside me momentarily and offered his arm as he leaned down and whispered. “I apologize, Sweet, I will never impose myself on you again. Do you accept my apology?”
“Yes,” I grumbled and took his arm as we started up the marble walkway of the grand restaurant. A doorman greeted Bram by name and pulled open the ornate ten foot high mahogany door, revealing the crowd within. That was when I realized we must have been pretty late. Not that it was a surprise—Bram definitely labored under the misguided notion of his own self-importance. Of course he’d be late to his own party.
As we entered the overcrowded room, I felt like I was on exhibit—“Bram’s date, who can she be?” going through everyone’s minds. I dropped my attention to the click of my heels against the black marble floors. When I could still feel the flush of anxiety on my cheeks, I forced myself to take in the dark red of the walls, the open ceiling, warehouse like with its rows of exposed metal piping. Candelabras topped with slender red candles stood proudly at the center of each table, throwing a yellow glow against the plates, soup bowls and the silver of utensils that decorated each table. My eyes fell to one table, dead center in the room, separated from the other tables by a girth of about two to three feet all the way around. And, guess whose table that was? I swallowed down my anxiety and allowed Bram to lead me to the small table currently playing the part of island. There were only two chairs. Holy Hades…
As soon as we reached the table, Bram’s posse descended on us, smiling and offering congratulations. Many of his female acquaintances embraced him, there were even some kisses, from which he quickly pulled away and eyed me speculatively. I just shook my head and took a seat at the table, pretending extreme interest in the cutlery.
“Looks like you’ve got the best seat in the house.”
I glanced up into Knight’s smiling face and felt my stomach drop.
Two
I was about to accuse Knight of stalking me when I noticed his arm intertwined with a woman’s—Angela, the bartender from Bram’s nightclub. She smiled at me but I wasn’t sure I returned the greeting, my stomach was still in the process of reeling from the fact that Knight was here and worse, that he and Angela appeared to be… together? Were they dating? Maybe already an item? If so, Knight was a bigger asshole than I’d previously imagined considering the way he’d been flirting with me this morning.
“Hi, Dulcie,” Angela said sweetly and I hoped I wasn’t still scowling at her, at them. I’d always liked Angela but just then I could have clawed her eyes out. I had to swallow the primitive reaction and stood up, forcing a smile.
“Hi Angela and, uh, Knight, I didn’t know you…both were coming.” Okay, so far so good. My voice had sounded pretty steady and my brain had been able to phrase a sentence together even though my stomach was threatening to make a spectacle of itself all over the shiny floors.
“Well, of course Angela would be invited,” Knight said. My stomach dropped further. “She does work for Bram.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” I answered tightly and internally told myself to cool it. No use in blowing my cover of an uninterested and definitely not jealous Dulcie. Not that I was interested or jealous. I was just…surprised. Yeah, I’d go with that.
“And I’m Angela’s date,” Knight finished, turning his attention on me again, an innocent smile on his face. A smile that said all his flirting earlier had been just a game, a whim. A smile that said he knew I was jealous and was enjoying my jealousy. Well, touché, Knight and your stupid perfect smile.
“Apologies,” I said to Angela and clarified the response with “for having to be Knight’s date.”
She laughed and pushed her orange bangs behind her ear. Her hair wasn’t naturally orange—she just had an addiction where hair color was concerned. After all the bleach involved, I was surprised she even had any hair left. Course, maybe that was why it was so short—as in boy short. So, about Angela, much though I really didn’t want to admit it, she was an attractive woman—she was decently tall and stick thin with a nice set of fake boobs. The nice set of fake boobs were currently residing in a black halterneck top with ribbons lacing down the front, criss-crossing against a backdrop of naked skin. Two ribbons covered her nipples but there wasn’t enough of the halterneck top to cover the underside of her breasts or the swell of the top. The “dress” continued in the same manner with ribbons lacing up the sides of her hips and thighs but thank Hades there was some sort of material in the front—it looked like rubber. All in all, with the missing fabric it looked like a were had made fast work of her dress. But, it wasn’t like I was going to say anything.
“Bram was excited you agreed to be his date, Dulcie,” Angela started and sidled closer to Knight until you couldn’t tell where he began and she ended.
I mumbled something that was so quiet I couldn’t even understand it while Knight laughed. “Was this another favor you owed him, Dulce?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. Knight was here on a date…willingly. That was a fact. And I was jealous; that was also a fact. So, even though some people might have accused me of being childish, I did what I had to do. “No, not a favor,” I snapped at Knight before turning a sweet smile on Angela. “I’ve also been looking forward to Bram’s and my…date.” Knight snickered but I forced myself to hold Angela’s gaze. “And has Bram gotten amazingly fast or what?” My eyebrow arched in what I hoped was a sexy expression—one of those femme fatale sort of “I know something you don’t know” looks.
“Did he show off for you?” Angela asked, shaking her head.
I nodded, watching from the corner of my eye as Knight’s smile vanished. Ha, served him right, the cocky bastard. Angela then turned to Knight and dropped her hand from his as she explained she had to visit the ladies’ room. Knight watched her depart, before planting his gaze back on me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, pleased I could finally speak my mind.
“What does it look like? I was invited.”
“You can’t stand Bram,” I said, eyeing the throng of admirers who still circled Bram like he was the great messiah. What was it with cocksure men? And why in hell did I have to be surrounded by them? I shook my head at the injustice of it all and returned my gaze to Bram who threw his head back and laughed heartily at some compliment a bottle blond offered him. She leaned into him and whispered something in his ear, making his fangs descend. Apparently remembering he had a date, he scanned the room for me and offered an apologetic smile that said he was still at the mercy of his…fans. Better them than me.
“Bram didn’t invite me,” Knight responded and smiled at the unspoken statement—that Angela had. He took the vacant seat next to me, but I refused to look at him, pretending extreme interest in the flirtations between Bram and his female guests.
“So, what, you both are an item now?” I asked, trying to wrestle the words down even as they left my tongue.
He shrugged—I caught it with my peripheral vision. “Are you and the vampire an item?”
“No,” I said quickly, facing him again. He was wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, unbuttoned down to his clavicle. The black of his suit was the same shade of velvet darkness as his hair. And with his strong jaw, piercin
g blue eyes and Roman nose, most women would have imagined him God’s gift to the female sex. Or, in Knight’s case, Hades’ gift. I, myself, couldn’t say I was grateful to Hades in the least.
“Ah, so it was a favor then?” he continued, and his smirk was enough to ignite my anger.
“New subject,” I interrupted, tired of playing word games with the Loki. “Why did you ask me if we could meet up tonight to work on the Dreamstalker case when you knew you’d be here?”
He leaned back into his chair and regarded me coolly. “I asked what your plans were; you didn’t inquire after mine.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You wanted me to say I was free so you could let me know you had a date with Angela, didn’t you? Really adult of you, Knight.”
He shrugged and raised his brows. “Why would you care if I had a date with Angela?”
Although I was pissed, I tried to appear indifferent. “I don’t.” I’m not sure I succeeded.
He leaned forward, and there was something in his eyes—irritation? “Then what does it matter?”
Not wanting to back down, I leaned closer to him, until only about four inches separated us. His spicy male scent hit me like a punch. “It matters because I don’t like games. Mean what you say and say what you mean.” I wanted to pat myself on the back for such an awesome answer. “I neither have the time nor the interest to play tag with you, Knight.”
Knight didn’t respond right away and neither of us pulled back. Instead, we just sat there, staring at one another. It had become a challenge—who would back down first? Who would pull away and allow the buffer of a few more inches of personal space?
It wouldn’t be me.
Knight smirked and leaned back into his seat, eyeing the room around him with ennui. “So the vampire is stronger and faster now?” he asked noncommittally, apparently ill at ease with the fact that I’d just called him out and let him know he was full of crap. So, he wouldn’t let me soak up the afterglow of a conversation won. Hmm, was someone a sore loser?
I nodded, focusing on Bram as he continued to laugh and flirt, reminding me of that black Bird of Paradise as it pranced around doing a mating dance. But unlike the pitiable bird that ended its display of passion with only a bored hen as its reward, Bram’s hens were anything but disinterested. They continued to rub against him like cats in heat, and the vampire was eating it up. Apparently feeling my eyes on him, Bram turned his attention to me and winced as if he wasn’t enjoying all the attention. Ha, as if. I held up my hand to say “take your time; I’m enjoying myself” even though I couldn’t say I was enjoying myself. Jealousy was still in the process of eating a big hole in my stomach and if nothing else, I wanted to go home and drown my sorrows in a vat of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream. And that was really saying something because I didn’t even like sweets.
“Is he trustworthy?” Knight continued.
“What?” I asked, completely at a loss. “What are you talking about?”
“Maybe if you’d stop staring at the vampire, you’d know.” His voice was stilted, angry.
“I wasn’t staring at him,” I muttered, realizing I’d been doing exactly that.
“Is Bram trustworthy?” Knight repeated. “Since he’s so much stronger and faster now, is that going to cause trouble for the ANC or trouble for you?”
I frowned and shrugged at the same time. “He’s as trustworthy as the next vampire.”
“That isn’t saying much.”
“It’s saying I don’t know what the answer to your question is. Do I trust Bram? Most the time yes. Do I think he’s going to get more cocky and take more risks due to his increased strength and power? Probably so. Do I think he’s a risk to the ANC? No, probably not.” I took a deep breath—I needed it since that had been a mouthful.
“If he’s so much stronger, it will be harder for you to defend yourself against him, if the need ever arose.”
Based on Bram’s little example of his increased speed in the limo, I also wondered if I’d be able to defend myself against him, not that I thought I’d ever need to… “Bram and I go way back.”
Knight’s lips were still tight—maybe even angry. And there was a rigidness to his body. “So what? He’s vampire.”
I smiled as warmly as I could. “You’re Loki, and I hardly know you.”
He nodded and cocked his head to the side, studying me like he was a great artist and I was a muse to be reckoned with. “I would never hurt you.”
I swallowed hard, not wanting to admit how his words had created warmth in me, a feeling of, dare I say it, endearment. “Neither would Bram.” At Knight’s dubious expression, I continued. “He’s harmless, Knight. Bram just wants to have sex with me and then he’d be completely over this…crush.”
At the word “sex,” Knight shifted uncomfortably, focusing his attention on Bram. His expression wasn’t a pretty one. When he faced me again, there was heat in his eyes, a certain glow I’d never seen before.
“What was that?” I demanded, sort of weirded out.
“What?”
“Your eyes just started…glowing.”
I was pretty sure I didn’t imagine the reddish blush that stained his cheeks. “It’s something Lokis do—we have no control over it.”
I narrowed my eyes—would his Loki traits ever stop revealing themselves? “And what is ‘it’ that you have no control over?”
He exhaled deeply. “Not something I really want to—”
He never had the chance to finish the statement as Angela was suddenly beside him. I was so irritated, I had half a mind to open the floor and have it swallow her whole, but restrained myself. I’d find out what this glowing eye bit really meant soon enough. The fact that Knight was clearly uncomfortable with it and didn’t want to discuss it was all the more reason to find out why. Anything I could wield over his head held a lot of value.
“Well, I think we’d best find our table, Knight,” Angela started as her eyes followed Bram, who was en route to our table.
Knight hoisted himself to his feet, offered me a crooked smile and off they went to their table, arm in arm. My stomach flopped at the sight of them and I had to talk myself out of the fact that I was…jealous. I wasn’t jealous…I was surprised, remember?
“Sweet,” Bram greeted me as he took his seat. “I apologize for leaving you unattended.”
“It’s okay, Angela and Knight kept me company.”
“Very good,” the vampire said although I could tell he was less than happy hearing Knight’s name on my tongue.
I was about to respond but was spared the need when servers began pouring into the room from one of three doorways. They were dressed in black, each with a small red apron wrapped around his middle. They carried silver soup tureens to every table, laid them down and began ladling what looked like cream of potato or maybe leek soup into each bowl, skipping a few patrons here and there, those patrons either being vamps or people opposed to soup.
I brought my attention back to Bram and found he’d been staring at me the whole time. “What?” I insisted.
He shook his head, a slight laugh escaping his lips. “I am pleased to be with you tonight, my sweet Dulce.”
“Well, thanks for inviting me,” I grumbled, not exactly able to return the sentiment. So far this evening, I’d done a three-sixty from uncomfortable to angry to jealous back to uncomfortable again.
The soup tureen made its way to our table and once the server had ladled and departed, Bram watched contentedly as I stirred it around my bowl, making no motion to sample it. My mind teamed with images of Knight and Angela, while images of Bram jumping me in the limo fought to the surface of my overwhelmed brain. A visual of Quillan interrupted the tempest of my thoughts, and I suddenly felt an almost indescribable ease wash over me, followed by melancholy as I realized how much I missed him, how I wished we were still friends so we could laugh about the fact that I’d gone on a date with Bram.
“You do not appear well,” Bram said and his exp
ression revealed concern.
“I have a lot on my mind,” I answered, and it was one hundred percent the truth.
“Well, let us speak of friendlier subjects. Have you an update on your book?”
I nodded, pleased with the distraction from the tailspin of thoughts colliding in my head. Yes, my book was a great subject, a neutral, easy subject. Bram only wanted to discuss it because he happened to be the muse for my main character, also a vampire. Only I’d named my vampire Raven. Aside from the name change, the book was pretty much solely about Bram—his life, how he’d become a vamp and his experiences over the last three hundred years.
“Well, as you know, I finished it a few months ago.”
“Yes, I do recall.”
I continued to stir my soup, feeling like a witch tending to her cauldron. “I think I told you I’d been attempting to get an agent?” Bram just nodded, so I continued. “I sent out my queries, and one agent requested the entire book.”
Bram smiled widely. “I did not doubt you, Sweet. I am very pleased.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty stoked, myself.”
“And what will happen now?” Bram continued and accidentally or not, brushed his foot against my leg underneath the table. Instantly I shifted my leg and pretended not to notice.
“Now I’ll just wait to see if they want to offer me representation.”
“Well, do ensure this is the best possible agent, Sweet. We want the best for our book.”
I didn’t find his reference to the book as “ours” at all offensive. In fact, I was proud, happy that Bram claimed ownership to something that meant a lot to me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was as much his book as mine because it was his life, so he probably had just as much invested in it as I did. “The agency is well respected,” I finished.
“Very good,” Bram said and eyed my untouched soup. “Are you not hungry?”
I let go of the spoon, realizing how rude it was to play with one’s food without ever trying it or intending to.
