It was a mistake she quickly covered. It wasn't like he needed the encouragement. She imagined women were constantly fawning all over him, stroking his huge, muscled arms while commenting on how big they were and laughing at all his juvenile jokes...
No. She definitely didn't need to feed his overinflated ego any more than it probably was.
"So, Hail, when you aren't here, what do you do?" she asked the blond man next to her instead.
"He works for me."
Hail practically leapt to his feet. "A-Angel," he stammered, "so wonderful to see you." He tripped over Kate as he scrambled to get from behind the table.
She could understand his anxiety. Angel was quite possibly the most gorgeous woman she'd ever seen. Dressed in a cream colored satin dress leaving little to the imagination, she had a perfect figure and even more perfect face. It was a face even Kate's plastic surgeon father couldn't find fault in.
Angel smiled sympathetically at Hail and winked at Kate. "There's no need to injure your tablemates," she told him. "But I am pleased to see you too."
He flushed a deep pink. "Angel, this is Melancholy and, um…" If he were a fourteen-year-old boy talking to the captain of cheerleading squad he couldn't be any more awkward.
"Kate," Kate finished for him. She thought about seeing how long it would take him to remember her name but realized he probably never would.
"Of course," Hail muttered.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Angel said, giving Kate a knowing look.
"Likewise," Kate said. She wasn't sure how to take Angel. Growing up with a father who carved beauty into women and a mother who never had a hair out of place, Kate shied away from what traditional society deemed beautiful. Because she didn't fit the ideals set by her family, she knew it was merely a defense mechanism. It didn't matter. More often than not, she found she had a hard time trusting, or being comfortable around, a classic beauty. She should be intimidated and threatened by Angel. Instead, Kate felt instantly at ease with the other woman. Angel seemed to ooze a calming air.
"So what do you do that Hail works for you?"
"He performs with me."
"Oh yeah? What type of performance do you do?" Angel looked like she might be a singer or something. Kate could imagine her in a sexy piano bar, seducing men with a husky voice.
Angel pursed her lips. "Some things are better seen than described." She smiled gently at Hail and gave him a barely perceptible nod. "It was wonderful meeting you ladies. Hopefully, I'll see you tomorrow."
Watching Angel slink toward the bar, Kate was reminded of the beauty pageants her mother entered her in as a child. No matter how much makeup, hairspray, glitter and satin her mom layered on her, she never won a single crown. In fact, usually she'd trip during the beauty phase or forget whatever silly dance routine she'd spent weeks practicing.
At first, she didn't hate the pageants. It was like playing dress up. But by the time she was eight she despised them, and finally, her mother quit trying to mold her into a beauty queen. Luckily, her sister Amber was a natural. In fact, she was a Miss Texas runner up.
Kate sighed inwardly. It was just one more piece of evidence proving she didn't fit in with her family.
She turned back to Hail and Melanie.
"What's going on tomorrow?" Melanie wondered.
He licked his lips. "The Forever Dark Vampire Ball."
Melanie wagged her eyebrows at Kate. "Sounds awesome."
It did sound intriguing. She wondered if Lohr Varius would be there.
"It's sold out but I can get you ladies in." Kate was pretty sure it would be Angel getting them in, but she could play along anyway.
"Oh my God, really?" Melanie chirped.
"Yeah, that would be amazing," Kate added. "We'd love to go."
"I'll put you on the list." As Hail gave Melanie the address, Kate couldn't resist and glanced once more toward the bar. Slade was vigorously shaking a Martini shaker while Angel and the dark-haired skinny man who'd so recently been sucking face with Skank Girl, waited. Scrawny's posture reminded Kate of a scolded dog, and if he had a tail, it would surely be between his legs.
* * * *
All right, if Miss Kate didn't order another drink soon, Slade was going to march over to her table and replace that watered down nastiness she was sipping with something actually drinkable. He needed an excuse to talk to her and, if she wasn't going to come to him, he'd find a reason to go to her.
He couldn't come up with anything fast enough. When the front door suddenly crashed open and three pissed off guys stampeded in, dragging a very drunk girl behind them, the entire bar seemed to pause. Two more women who obviously made up a bachelorette party cautiously followed. They all had a little drunken glaze to their eyes and Slade had a bad feeling about where it was heading.
The night was turning out to be way more action packed than he'd anticipated or cared to experience.
The guy in the front had the most deranged expression of them all and Slade could only guess he was the drunken girl's boyfriend or husband.
Slade met them before they could get to the bar. "Can I help you?" He made sure to expand his chest as he asked the question, and although he felt like a puffed up rooster, or an arching, hissing cat, he knew the gesture helped remind drunkards he could probably pop their heads like giant zits.
Unfortunately, boyfriend was too pissed to notice or care. Or maybe he felt overconfident because his buddies were bringing up the rear.
Although…
Slade quickly glanced around the bar. The guy might have something to feel confident about after all. It wasn't like Slade had a whole lot of backup tonight. Kindle was off and with Armand out, Slade's muscle was seriously compromised. Maybe he could call on Red. That spitfire could probably take out the lot of them.
The thought made him smile.
Boyfriend jerked the girl around and yanked her head back, exposing her neck and two, blood encrusted circles to Slade. "Wanna tell me which one of you weirdoes did this to my girlfriend?"
"Wanna ease up on your girl?" Slade replied as the girl twisted in the guy's grasp, whimpering as his fingers dug into her flesh.
"What I really want to know is why some sick freak decided to sink his teeth into her?"
Slade recognized the marks on her neck. They weren't made from teeth, but that was probably a moot point.
"Jake, let me go!"
"Yeah Jake, you might want to let her go."
Jake only increased his grip on her. "You're going to tell me who did this."
Slade was trying to decide if his fist against Jake's jaw would get him to release the girl or not when one of her girlfriends pleaded, "Jake please, I don't see the guy here."
Finally, Jake tossed the blonde aside. It was Angel who caught her. "What does he look like?" Jake demanded.
The friend flinched when Jake turned to her. The guy obviously had a mean streak. Slade was ready to give him a taste of his own mean streak.
"Tall and skinny, with a Mohawk."
Darus. Of fucking course. No one else was as fond of street Donors as Darus.
Slade's exasperation must have shown on his face, because Jake was suddenly inches from him, a pointed finger millimeters from Slade's nose.
"Where you hiding your friend? If I have to kick your ass to get to him I will." Jake's friends had flanked him and were obviously chomping at the bit for an opportunity to fight.
Slade smiled. "Definitely not here."
"Listen asshole," Jake started, jabbing his finger at Slade and spitting on him at the same time.
All right, he'd had enough.
While Jake rattled off some more insults, Slade wiped the spittle from his cheek and then, in one swift motion, grabbed Jake's hand and twisted it behind his back.
"Time to go," he said.
The friend on the right took a swing at Slade, which he anticipated and avoided by ducking. The missed swing sent the guy staggering into the wall. Jerking Jake's wrist higher until
his elbow twisted unnaturally and he cried out, Slade caught the fist of the third friend and spun him around. Drunk people were extremely predictable.
There was about to be some more bar brawling, when Angel's clear voice brought it to an abrupt halt. "Gentlemen," she said softly but firmly, sliding her curves between friend number three and Slade. "There's no reason to fight."
Angel had this uncanny ability to manipulate the energy in a room. Ash would tell him it was because of her heightened Sang senses, or that she was a powerful Psychic Vampire. Slade preferred to think it was her beauty that encouraged people to follow her will, even though he could sense the energy in the room had changed. It felt like warm pudding had seeped into his veins.
He shook it off.
Angel gently placed a pale hand on guy number three's cheek. "Your anger is displaced," she told him before lightly trailing her fingers over his jaw and turning to Jake. "There is no enemy here."
With her skyscraper heels, Angel stood eye to eye with Slade and the man in his grasp. Her brown eyes were intense as they bored into Jake. "Amy is unharmed," she said quietly.
The bitten blonde must be Amy. Only Angel would catch the girl as she fell and then become her best friend in less than thirty seconds.
"You call two puncture wounds unharmed?" It was guy number two who spoke. Jake was too busy being mesmerized by Angel.
She turned slowly to him, letting the effect of her lithe movements wash over him before replying, "They will heal." She turned back to Jake. "I am sorry one of our comrades made friends with your girlfriend without your permission. It was very rude." She leaned forward. "But there is nothing to fear, Jake," she whispered in his ear. "No need for anger." Slade felt the guy relax and even slump a little as the air around them became thick with the calm oozing from Angel's body.
Okay, maybe there was something to her ability to manipulate energy.
"It is only pleasure we share." Jake melted, and instead of immobilizing him, Slade was suddenly stabilizing him. Angel's deep brown eyes flicked up to meet his own and she grinned.
Whatever Angel had done, it was effective because Jake said, "You can let me go. We're leaving."
Slade wasn't about to let down all his guard but he did release Jake's arm, keeping a hand firmly on his shoulder as he guided him toward the door. The two girlfriends had already darted outside.
"C'mon Amy," Jake said to the blonde.
Amy glanced at Angel, who now stood beside her, an arm draped softly around Amy's shoulder.
"It's up to you," Angel told her. "I think he'll be fine but if you feel unsafe, don't leave."
Slade really didn't want Darus' most recent Doll hanging around the bar, but he wasn't as convinced as Angel that Jake was suddenly cured of his assholeness. "She's not leaving with you," Slade said to him. "We'll call her a cab."
"Amy..." Jake pleaded.
"I'll see you at the hotel," she replied, false confidence making her voice unnaturally high.
"Amy!"
Slade pushed him into the courtyard. "Relax, man. We'll get her home safely. Look, if I see you hanging around out here I won't hesitate to kick your ass and then call the cops. Trust me, you don't want to spend your vacation in a New Orleans jail cell. The rats are big down here and don't get me started on the nutria."
Jake didn't respond and Slade followed the unwelcome group down the archway, waiting until they disappeared onto Royal before returning to the bar.
* * * *
Kate watched the entire ordeal with a sort of fascinated enthrallment. Slade had this confident power even she couldn't deny was sexy. He dealt with the assailants with amused assertiveness. And then when Angel stepped in, the entire game changed. It was like seeing a fantasy novel unfold.
Kate couldn't keep her eyes off him as he casually returned to his bar duties, chatting up the patrons and filling their drinks with calm ease. It was like nothing weird had happened. She watched him for a good ten minutes, amazed by his laissez faire attitude.
She tried to bring her attention back to Melanie and Hail, she really did, but she couldn't stop thinking about the stupid bartender. Of course, with her tablemates pawing at each other, it wasn't hard. She had no desire to get in the middle of that. The activity in the bar had picked up, but even the dozen or so people dancing right next to her couldn't distract her from thoughts about Slade. And she loved watching people dance.
When Kate couldn't stand it any longer, she rose and approached the bar. Slade kept his crimson eyes on her the entire time. Even as he mixed a drink for a patron, even as she leaned against the bar, slowly and deliberately fiddling with the straws nestled in the black plastic bar caddy, his gaze never faltered. "So…" she said finally, lifting her eyes to meet his. "What was that all about?" She gestured toward the door.
Slade shrugged. "One of the local Sangs thought it'd be fun to play with a tourist. Guess her boyfriend didn't like it."
"Sang, like a Human Vampire."
"Something like that."
"Like you?"
With a grin, Slade leaned forward, resting his elbows and bulked up forearms on the smooth wood. His pleasure at her interest was obvious. "I told you, I'm the real deal."
When he'd been dealing with the drunk boyfriend, she'd found his cocky confidence somewhat appealing. Now it was just annoying. "What exactly does being the 'real deal' entail?" She actually air-quoted, real deal. It was not her proudest moment.
"What do you want to know?"
The question was meant to be an open invitation for him to educate her. If she only wanted to know whether or not he drank blood, she would have asked that. Slade knew it; she could tell by the way he was grinning at her. He just wanted her to coax the information out of him.
Fine. She could play his twenty-questions game. "For starters, I take it you drink blood."
"Yep."
"What do you get out of it?"
"I get to stay healthy."
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Exactly what I said."
"So you need blood to stay healthy?"
"I do."
"What would happen if you didn't consume it? Would it kill you?"
"No. I might want to die, but I'd live."
She sighed. Prying information out of him was extremely irritating. "Well, like, what are your symptoms?"
"Think Chronic Fatigue Syndrome."
His quick answers only reinforced this question/answer session was merely a game he was playing with her. The cocky twist of his lips was making her want to jump over the bar and strangle him.
"So, you don't get any extra benefits at all?"
"Unfortunately not."
She gave him a long once over. Through his fitted T-shirt, she could clearly make out the outline of his pecs as they strained against the fabric, and his arms were so bulky, the Lycra was doing double-time to keep them contained. "Not even this," she gestured across his chest, ignoring the smug smile he wore. "Blood consumption doesn't give you some sort of super strength or extra muscle building powers?"
"No, the steroids do that." His face was expressionless.
She rolled her eyes. "Figures."
"Although..." a smile cracked the deadpan, "I'm pretty sure the steroids farmers put in my hamburger probably have less to do with it than the hours I spend in the gym. Us meatheads like to hit the weights, you know."
As hard as she tried to fight it, she could barely contain the grin threatening to lift the corners of her mouth. "That's not very vampire-like of you."
"Not at all."
She pulled over a barstool. The number of questions she had warranted taking a seat. And at this rate, it would take a while to get through them.
"Can I make you another drink?" Slade asked, retrieving a clean glass from beneath the bar and wagging it at her. "No charge. I can't stand to watch you drink that watered down shit any longer.
She glanced toward the offending cocktail left behind at the table. There wasn't a square of ice left
in it. "Sure." Kate wasn't much of a drinker anymore — between Melanie and herself someone had to stay moderately sober — but she certainly wasn't against it. However, she'd done enough damage to her liver in college she now tried to minimize the booze consumption. It wasn't the easiest task in a city like New Orleans. "So, you really don't have any special powers or enhanced senses or extra long life or anything?"
"I'm not sure about the extra long life yet," he winked at her, "but no to the other stuff."
"Huh." She was surprised. From what Hail described, and from what she'd seen with Angel, she assumed he'd get something special from it besides just health.
Slade squeezed a lime into the clear, bubbling liquid and slid the glass to her. "Is that all you wanted to know?"
She took a quick sip. Once again, he had poured a superior beverage. "No. But you know that already. You could volunteer the information instead of going through this song and dance."
"The more questions you ask, the longer you have to sit here and talk to me."
"Please. Spare me. You just like making me beg you for information."
"Maybe I like being near you."
The comment caught her off guard and she nearly choked on the mouthful of liquid in her mouth. "Uh-huh." She managed to get the words out without coughing and with a heaping dose of sarcasm at the same time. "How often do you need to drink it?" she asked instead, hoping to move the conversation along.
"Couple times a week. Usually thirty to forty mL," he added quickly, before she had the chance to open her mouth and ask the question, "how much?"
Lest he think she was no longer playing his game, she inclined her head and toasted him. "Thank you."
"Anytime."
"Do you have a girlfriend or something you get it from?"
"No. Are you volunteering?"
"Um, no." There was no way she could ever date a player-type like Slade. Between her brother and the guys her sister dated in high school, and the one she married, Kate knew what his type was like. She preferred not to be cheated on in a relationship. "Do you do the bagged blood then?"
"Wish I could, but I can't."
de Sang: Embrace Your Blood Lust Page 5
