Roman (The Clutch Series Book 1)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Because it’s wrong,” Leslie spits.

  “They know?” I ask. “I mean, of course, they know if they asked you, but you know...” Lana trails off. She doesn’t need to finish her sentence because I do know. The people our families associate with, they’re against vampires having any sort of freedom. I’m not sure where I stand, mostly because I’ve never had any interaction with them.

  “Your parents are probably disgusted by what you’ve done; how you allowed your body to be violated by a dead thing.”

  “Leslie--”

  “Can we talk about something else?” I interrupt Lana before she goes off on Leslie, wanting to steer my two best friends to something different. Having my friends fight over this is the last thing I want. Lana should’ve known better than to say anything. We both know where Leslie stands on this issue.

  Leslie sets her magazine down and spins in my direction, her knees crashing into mine. Her hands are clasped, but the look on her face tells me she’s about to flip her bitch switch off and go back to being the sweet and loving friend she is. “Like the party, you’re having?” Her eyes light up, and her frown turns into a glowing smile. Party. It’s Leslie’s favorite word. Mine too, to be honest.

  “Or Louis Vuitton’s new line?” I hedge. In a matter of hours the store will be filled with everything I want, but don’t need.

  “Or the fact that Britney has ended her residency here and we’re left with JLo?” Lana asks. I glance at her, and she shrugs. “What? I like Britney.”

  “But not Lopez?” I ask. I’m rather shocked, considering Lopez has been married to her vampire for years now and was one of the more famous people to announce a union with one.

  She shakes her head. “She’s good, but…eh.”

  Leslie rolls her eyes, and I can already tell there’s going to be a strain on our friendship. It’ll take days, maybe weeks, but Leslie will start asking me to do things with only her, leaving me to choose between my friends. I hate the idea. “Your party,” she says, reaching for my hands. “It has to be off the hook, amazing, with only the best of the best in attendance.”

  “Aren’t all my parties like this?” Hosting parties is what I’m good at. It’s how I earn a living, so to speak. I do this for my father; entertain investors when they come to town so they’ll want to do business here. Not that there’s much space for expansion on the Strip, but my dad is looking to increase the area by extending the Strip, which is something the locals aren’t happy with. My father and I don’t always see eye to eye, but he’s willing to keep my bank account full as long as I’m doing my part and making sure the right businesses are coming to town. This isn’t how I saw using my business degree, but I have to admit the perks are nice. My penthouse is paid for, I have a car service and a black American Express that yes, my daddy covers, but it’s for his cause, not mine. I’m at a stage in my life where I’m not sure I know what I want to do so until then, I’ll happily live off my daddy’s money, especially if it means my current step-mommy doesn’t get it all.

  “Some are stuffy, boring,” Lana adds. “You should have a midnight soirée. Picture this: white lights everywhere setting a romantic mood with soft music playing in the background.”

  “So your freak friends can come?” Leslie’s words have a lot of bite, no pun intended.

  “Sounds like all my parties,” I point out, hoping to get back on topic before Leslie and Lana go at it.

  “For your uneducated mind, vampires walk among us, Leslie. They don’t only come out at night or sleep in coffins.”

  Leslie looks at me; she smiles and starts to gather her stuff. “I can’t sit here anymore.” She stands and without another word, walks back toward the hotel.

  “What’s her problem?” Lana asks as she slides over to the now vacated chair. “She thinks she’s better than us.”

  “Everyone has their own beliefs.”

  “And what are yours?”

  I look over at Lana, taking her all in. She’s tall, slender and her hair always makes the perfect messy bun. Every time I see her with one, I’m jealous because mine is either flat, my extensions show or I have so much product in my hair it hurts to touch. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “You’re the first person I know who has admitted to being with one and liking it. I’ve heard horror stories though.”

  “Loving,” she corrects me. “Fiona, I had never been treated so amazingly by a man until that moment. And those stories you hear, it’s because the media wants to scare you. It’s all propaganda by the government to strike fear in the humans.”

  “But he bit you.”

  “Only after he asked.” Her hand comes up to her neck, and she smiles. “When I saw him at the gym, I could tell there was a spark. He didn’t have to compel me either; I went willingly. And it wasn’t like we met and bam. We talked, flirted, laughed. I suggested it because I wanted him, whether he’s human or not.”

  I want to be happy for my friend, and maybe I am. I turn back toward the pool and survey the crowd. The vampire waiter is across the way, chatting up some women. He leans down, almost as if he’s going to whisper something, only he cradles her head in his hand. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s doing. He’s biting her, out in public for all of us to see. I feel like I should say something, but my voice will be ignored. Either he’s compelled her or she’s invited him in, which is none of my business, and yet I find myself staring, watching. My hand goes to my neck and Lana chuckles beside me.

  “It’s the most amazing feeling in the world,” she says. “Let me know when you want to try it. I can hook you up.”

  Tearing my eyes away from the scene across from me, I gather my belongings and stand. “Louis is about to open up, let’s go.” I don’t wait for Lana to follow behind because I know she will, she always does.

  3

  Roman

  I spent the better half of two days researching everything I could find about James Weston, from scouring the Internet to following him around silently, observing. Much like hunting prey, I stalked him. He has an ex-wife, living off his fortune via a sizable alimony settlement in California, and new, younger wife living with him here in Las Vegas with strangely colored hair. Being as old as I am, there are some fashion trends I cannot get behind, and young women dyeing their hair an odd silver gray prematurely is one of them. The most fruitful bit of my research was finding out Weston has a daughter. A beautiful, socialite daughter, who looks to be my ticket to getting what I want.

  Though I found her incredibly attractive when I came across her pictures, she appears as empty as most humans, if not more. She had managed to get herself a business degree in college; however, it seems she is doing nothing more than socializing, shopping and spending her father’s money, which leads me to believe she is definitely daddy’s little girl. Perfect for me. Girls who dote on their fathers are generally easily swayed by my inherent charm, and I plan to make sure she is no different. Win the favor or even the lust of the daughter— get my casino. The perfect plan.

  With my plan in place, I set out to run into her in a seemingly accidental manner. It continues to baffle me how easily you can find out about people on the Internet, which informed me that she hung out at a swanky pool club many afternoons, and fortunately for me, I have a friend who works there as a waiter. As luck would have it, she’s exactly where her social media account said she was: with friends, and much to my delight they’re talking about sleeping with vampires.

  Grinning, I continue to listen from afar, blocking out the other mindless chatter surrounding me. This group of women is the only thing interesting me right now, and I really want to know what they have planned for the rest of their afternoon.

  The fact she has no real opinion on vampires bodes well in my favor. I can use this to my advantage, striking up a conversation and putting her at ease before I go in for the kill, so to speak. It’s her initial reaction to her friend spilling the little tidbit about sleeping with a vampire that has me leaning fo
rward even though it’s unnecessary for me to do so. I observe the way her body reacts to her friend’s tale of a romp in a locker room with a vampire. I can feel her intrigue, but also her heart rate increases as though she’s nervous in some way, which piques my interest. She’s never been with a vampire, but she’s thought about it. I can feel a smirk form, knowing that I’m going to charm her. I think it will be rather enjoyable.

  At first glance, it may seem callous or cold to target her, but it’s not like she’s some kind of saint. I am positioning myself to run into her shopping for Louis Vuitton for Christ’s sake, which sounds like she has plenty of, simply because they’re releasing new items today. If that isn’t the vainest and superfluous way to spend a Thursday afternoon, I don’t know what is. As I wait to stalk them shopping, I wonder what is taking them so long to get ready.

  It’s easy to go unnoticed in Las Vegas, getting lost in the crowds, which is why it’s one of my favorite cities that I’ve lived in over the years. With new faces every day, I blend in easily, walking among the humans, with the exception of my mark. Each of us is branded with the Mark of the Fates, from the day we are born again as vampires. Much of the lore in the movies and in the media is complete bullshit. The reality is, we vampires have our own hierarchy and societal expectations to abide by, far outside of the rules we agree to follow amongst the humans. We all used to be human at one point, this much is true. But I can follow the girls in broad daylight; I won’t burst into flames or sparkle for that matter, and with the exception of my very pale skin, and my Mark of the Fates, I can go undetected as a human if I choose to, which generally I do.

  I’m a businessman by nature, and I’ve never been a controversial vampire. When I first turned, I had a bit of fun running around before there were any understandings between vampires and humans, but I’ve never fed on anyone without their permission. I never wanted to be a poster child or role model of any kind for vampires either. I’ve always enjoyed starting new businesses, successful companies or ventures that I build myself. The satisfaction of creating something that lives on has lit a fire in me for as long as I can remember. Many, in fact, most, vampires are wealthy because over time we invest, and we live to see the fruits of our labor. This casino is important to me. More than any of the other enterprises I’ve taken on.

  I see her through the window of the store; her shiny blonde hair is held out of her face with designer sunglasses perched on her head, thankful her vampire-hating friend known as Leslie decided not to join her. Fiona’s tongue darts out, wetting her plump pink lips, toying with the cross dangling from her neck. The rule is if someone wears a cross, they’re off limits from our compulsion, which means I’m going to have to spend time getting to know her. Leaving us no choice but to meet and talk.

  As I continue to observe her fondling the new purses with her friend, Lana, I formulate how I’ll do it. Approaching her now isn’t going to work. I need a new plan, a moment where Fiona Weston happens to me and not the other way around.

  “So Fiona, what’s this party for exactly?” I turn sharply when I hear this question. I heard mention of a party earlier but brushed it off as another socialite function meant to bore me until now. This is where I could spend time with her. I need to get an invitation to this party.

  I continue to listen, hoping to find out more when the friend called Lana brings up the very event. “It’s a gathering of investors. People with too much money and time on their hands who want to throw millions at the casinos. There’s a few of them that are for sale you know, so people are always looking for money.”

  “Wait, there are casinos for sale?” she asks, seeming surprised. All I can think is how ill-informed this lot is.

  “Of course there are. There always are. It’s not like the casinos hammer a sign out in front of them though, geez. We’re talking about millions of dollars here. There’s got to be wheeling and dealing with anything in Vegas.” Fiona laughs. She seems to understand how things work, but it’s likely because she’s overheard it from her father.

  “Well then, how do people know anything is for sale?”

  “Because it’s not for sale to just anyone. This party is for those people to get to know each other and talk about what’s available and that sort of thing. It’s like a mixer for investors and casinos, in this case, looking for investors. Essentially, it’s a private gathering for all of these people to spend money and find new people to make money with. And, they all know my dad of course.” It seems perhaps she knows a bit more about business than I initially gave her credit for.

  I continue to listen as the girls discuss the party, which I’m now certain is where I’ll make inroads with this pretty little thing. After they’ve spent more money on bags than most people in Las Vegas make in a week, they part ways, each stating they need to be somewhere else. Realizing this could be my chance, I wait for her to make her way from the store. My luck keeps getting better and better.

  Fiona walks with determination, weaving in and out of the crowd, holding her shopping bags close. Her toned body is impossible to ignore, her skirt is skimming just below her round ass, and her tank top is completely cut out in the back, indicating there’s no bra under there. I can’t help but to ogle her as I saunter through the crowd myself, finally stopping as she enters a coffee shop. Before going in, I wait.

  She orders a caramel latte and takes a seat farthest away from the window, tucking her newly purchased items against the wall. I go in and inhale deeply, even though I don’t need to. I love the smell of coffee, and I tend to make one at home from time to time, just to enjoy the scent as it reminds me of a cross between vanilla beans and fresh soil. There’s something lovely about it, and it’s a smell that’s been around for as long as I can remember.

  With a cup of black coffee in my hand, I seek out the empty seat next to her. “Is this seat taken?” I ask in a smooth tone.

  When her eyes meet mine, I feel as though I’m being compelled for just a moment. The icy blue color shines right through me as she looks up from her book. “Um, no. Please help yourself.” She motions at the chair before turning her attention back to her novel.

  Taking the seat next to her, I see what she’s reading, but am unfamiliar with the words, and by chance, the title on the page is covered. Everything about her is too perfect. Her nails, makeup, and hair. Her vain superficiality turns my stomach, but I remind myself I have a goal to accomplish, and it’s to find myself in her favor. Regardless of how human she is.

  “You look familiar; have we met?” I ask.

  Looking annoyed at the interruption, she replies without looking at me again. “I don’t believe so.”

  Becoming further frustrated with her disinterest, I continue. “I’m certain that we have. Aren’t you hosting the party this weekend for casino investors?”

  Now that I’ve piqued her interest, she sets her book down and attempts to turn on her business charm. Her eyes move over me as she tries to remember where we’ve met before. “My apologies, but I don’t recall meeting you. Are you planning to attend the event?” She forms a fake smile.

  “I am hoping to attend, yes.”

  “Well, that will be lovely, Mr….?”

  “Roman.” I hold my hand out to her, watching her body language shift when she feels the cold of my touch. As if on cue, she reaches up to fondle the cross that dangles at her neck.

  “Mr… Roman,” she repeats quietly. She’s intriguing, watching my every move, studying me. I already know she’s never had contact with a vampire directly, that she’s aware of, so this encounter, friendly and short, is just enough. I’ve left my first impression, and stand to take leave.

  “I’ll see you this weekend, Miss Weston.” I leave her sitting there without another glance. Only when I look back, she’s still touching her neck. My distaste for humans like her has not waned, regardless of her beauty. She judges me without knowing anything at all, and for that, I shall take what I need from her. Within reason, of course.

 
The next task on my agenda is to secure an invitation to her event where I’ll make my next move. Vampires are so well connected in every city, I easily could’ve arranged the invitation without meeting her to begin with, but planting the seed of intrigue is far more seductive than following her like a puppy at her event trying to meet her for the first time. As I leave the mall, I shut out everything around me, and focus on the sound of her rapid heartbeat.

  4

  Fiona

  The night air is stifling, yet there’s something about the desert I’m starting to love. Brown has never been my color, but mix it with the red and orange of the sun, and it’s quickly become a shade I can appreciate. Don’t get me wrong, I’m counting the days until I can return to California, where I can dip my toes into the ocean and relax on the beach with enough of a breeze to keep me cool. This hot, tepid place is bad for my overall sense of being.

  I turn and rest my elbows on the railing of my balcony. The glass doors separating the inside of my penthouse from my terrace are open, at least for the time being. Once fall arrives, I’ll have them open more so I can enjoy the somewhat cooler temperatures. Right now though, they have to remain shut. The last thing I want is for my guests to feel uncomfortable while I’m trying to sell them on everything Las Vegas has to offer.

  One of the event planners finishes stringing the last of the white lights, while the other members of the staff simultaneously pop open the many champagne bottles needed to create the fountain I had to have. It’s frivolous, but Daddy’s paying and only the best will suffice when it comes to his checkbook.

  Inside, soft music plays through the surround sound, setting the right type of ambiance. I turn the dial down one notch, satisfied with the decibel level. Too loud and people can’t think properly. Too quiet and you can hear each other’s conversations from across the room. Neither are moments I want to happen, especially tonight. Everything has to be perfect. My father is counting on one of the influential investors to pad his pockets with the purchase of the Majesty. I’ll receive a bonus, of course, and likely a European trip if I can seal the deal on the adjacent property as well.