Sin City Vampire Club

by Kristen Strassel

  “Don’t touch him, you witch.” Callie broke through the circle. “You cast a spell on him and made him weak. I’ll kill you myself if he dies.”

  I wouldn’t fight with her. Her lover lay dying at her feet. No way could she be rational. Her strength was compromised as well, and she already gave him everything she had.

  “Nobody spelled him,” I said softly, afraid any alarm would cause her to attack. I didn’t bother reminding her that Rainey cast the spells; to Callie we were probably one and the same.

  All the humans around me gasped when I brought my wrist to my mouth.

  I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “Someone, please.” I held my wrist up, relieved when Lennon grabbed it. She kissed the thin skin that protected my veins before sinking her teeth through my flesh.

  If anyone noticed the smoke rising from the open wound they didn’t say anything as I covered Tristan’s mouth with my bleeding wrist. I coaxed his lips open, letting the energy he needed drip inside. He moaned.

  "It’s working.” I wanted to pass out from relief on top of him.

  Of all times to donate blood, this was the absolute worst. I worked so hard to conserve the energy that had been generated between Rainey and Blade, to capture it like a firefly. Tristan’s lips moved against my skin, sucking more blood out of me, and probably my fire along with it. He moaned, either coming back to consciousness or aware of his singed skin. If I didn’t give him enough blood to heal, the burn would mark his face.

  I gasped when he grabbed my arm, and there was no turning back. My vision blurred as he drank everything good I had to offer. The dark stuff left a residue, and my lids grew heavy.

  Somebody had to stop him. I cried out, unable to bring the word no to my lips.

  “That’s enough.” Lennon kneeled beside us. She ripped my arm away from his grasp with enough force that I expected the bone to snap. Tristan lunged for me, but Lennon was faster. She cradled me in her arms, hissing at him.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered into my hair.

  I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure of the answer. “It worked.”

  She licked the skin she ripped open minutes before and it knit together before my eyes. Callie had gone to Tristan, but he lunged at her, too. He needed more blood. She was able to hold him off, but I had no idea how long we had before he fell back into the grips of death.

  The emergency workers had disappeared, probably at the first drop of blood. I only noticed they were gone because of the stillness that had fallen over the theater. I stayed with Lennon, letting her smooth my hair and rock me back and forth. She needed it as much as I did.

  “And that’s a cut.” The director startled us all by breaking the silence. It was only a matter of time before everyone in America had a chance to watch Tristan drink my blood.

  It would either scare them away, or they’d come running for the chance to take my place.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “HOLLY, WAKE UP.” RAINEY sat beside me on the mattress. I couldn’t see her in the black room, but I could feel her. The weight of her body and the scent of her jasmine perfume hung heavily against my skin. “You haven’t been to practice in days.”

  I hadn’t done anything since I donated my blood to Tristan. It wasn’t the first time a vampire drank from me, but it was the only time I hadn’t received something in return. Adoration, love, fire, or the simple satisfaction of a good lay. I gave him so much more than blood. I gave him hope.

  “Not going.” The words were hard to say. I needed more sleep. “Tomorrow.”

  “You can’t keep avoiding it.” Rainey snapped on the light. “A production assistant dropped off a packet of paperwork for you to sign two days ago. I told her you already did that, but she said it was something new. She just came by, wondering where it was. I could sign it for you—”

  “Do it.” I put the pillow over my face. There was way too much bright and cheery going on.

  “Absolutely not. If they changed something you haven’t agreed to... I won’t be responsible for that.” She ripped the blankets away. Why she was acting like such a cold-hearted bitch was beyond me. “Get up. You’re going to practice tonight. I’ll come with you.”

  “No.” I expected her glare. “They’re filming everything now. I added a stipulation that they couldn’t film you.”

  She frowned. “Thanks, I think. But does that mean I can never come watch you practice again?”

  I needed Rainey there. I swung my heavy legs to the side of the bed. There would be no way I’d be able to invert myself on a pole or climb a lyra. And I’d probably rip the silks out of the ceiling. It was like my body had turned to stone without the proper mix of blood and energy.

  “You can.” I could barely stand. “Will you cast a spell on me?”

  “You look like hell,” she said as she approached. She put her hand on my forehead and the frown was back.

  “Thanks. Aren’t we trading the sweetest compliments tonight,” I hoped to get a laugh out of her, but it didn’t work. “You have dozens of spells to make me look pretty.”

  “You need more than that. You’re freezing.” She led me back to the bed. “You need blood.”

  “I know.” I hadn’t inherited many vampire traits from my father. I could go out in daylight, and I was able to eat regular food. Most of my powers had come from my mother, and no one could explain where the fire came from.

  Rainey hesitated, drawing a deep breath before getting up and leaving the room. I should’ve followed her, but it was too much effort. She came back with a knife in her hand, which was trembling when she offered it to me. “Drink from me.”

  “What?” I hadn’t been able to rip open my own wrist. I had no fangs. If I ever did, my aunt Lucille had made sure there were filed down. “Rainey, you don’t understand what you’re asking me to do.”

  “Yes, I do. You’re suffering the same fate as Tristan, like he transferred all his bad mojo to you.” Her gaze fell to the knife. “Take enough to heal you.”

  It didn’t work like that. And it was impossible to know what kind of effect it would have on her. “It’s too risky.”

  We could call Blade, but he’d be bullshit I’d let Tristan drink from me. Things were too complicated to think about.

  “You need my energy. If you die, I lose you. If the show doesn’t succeed, I’ve failed my mission from Gabriel. And I lose you. This is my only chance of getting to stay.” She ran her finger along the blade, not close enough to the edge to cut it. I couldn’t breathe. I had no idea what would happen when I saw Rainey’s blood. Or when I tasted it.

  I was about to find out.

  She sliced her pointer finger open. Blood pooled at the opening, like it was unsure what to do next. It glimmered in the light. My mouth watered and my stomach turned in revulsion that I wanted this.

  It’s just a little blood, I justified as I brought her finger to my mouth. We were both shaking. This wasn’t the first time I’d been inside Rainey, but never like this. The first drop fell on my tongue with a sweet tang. I forced myself to swallow, then took more.

  The weight lifted, and energy and emotion swirled inside me like a warm light. It was the most incredible feeling. My head cleared and so many things made sense that never had before. If I could see the world through Rainey’s eyes, maybe Gabriel would let her stay.

  “Holly,” she groaned. “You’re hurting me.”

  I forced myself away from her finger. The skin had puckered around the opening, but thankfully, there was no more blood. I wasn’t sure if I could control myself at the sight of it.

  “Sorry.” I pushed her shoulders down on the mattress and straddled her. She let out a muffled cry when my lips crashed against hers. The taste of her own blood probably startled her, like it did to me when I first let Blade drink from me.

  Blade. If he could drink Rainey’s blood...

  No.

  That would cross every line ever, if either of them would agree to it, which I already k
new was a resounding hell no. But as Blade slipped further into the underbelly of the city, I understood why I needed both of them to stoke my flames.

  I couldn’t stop kissing her. She gripped my shoulders hard and pulled away when I reached her neck. “That’s enough.”

  It wasn’t, but I wouldn’t argue with her. She left me on my knees on the mattress as she straightened her top.

  “I feel better.” I hoped the ends justified the means.

  “Good.” Rainey threw clothes at me. “Get ready for practice.”

  THE HALLWAYS BEHIND the Sin City Vampire Club stage bustled like a show was about to go live, and I questioned how much I missed in the last few days. It would be like Callie to move on without me, and I had a feeling that the producers were bloodsuckers of a different breed.

  “There she is!” A woman with a microphone chased after me. A man followed her with a camera, and I was aware of a growing crowd behind us. “Holly, can we interview you about—”

  “No.”

  “Would you like to make a statement about the other night? You let that woman bite you, and Tristan drank your blood,” she added. “We want to use it on Immortal Forever.”

  She was a producer, not a reporter, which meant I’d never get rid of her.

  “Holly will only comment on things that are relevant to her performance. No personal issues,” Rainey said before I had a chance to tell these people what to do with their questions. If only they knew I drank Rainey’s blood within the hour; that the sweet, coppery taste of it still lingered on my tongue.

  “Are you her manager?” the producer asked.

  “Yes.” Rainey gave one her signature sweet smiles. No one messed with that. Not because she was scary, but because they’d feel like a complete tool if they stole her serenity. She hooked her arm in mine, probably a little too personal for our new business arrangement, and led me away from the stunned crowd.

  “Well done,” I whispered to her.

  “Good. I hope I didn’t make you mad. And now there’s a reason for me to be here during the rehearsals and shows without them prying into our lives.”

  “Perfect.” I almost kissed her, but stopped. Our cover would’ve been immediately blown. As much as I needed the moral support, having to treat her like a hired hand would be torture.

  I didn’t look like I spent the last few days in bed once I put my stage makeup on. I wore the same outfit I intended to practice in the last time I was here. My corset and jacket were dark, and even though I could smell the blood stains on them, a camera wouldn’t be able to pick them up. Or so I hoped.

  But Tristan would be drawn to me. Rainey jumped when he appeared out of some dark chasm of the stage, ready for battle in his vinyl pants and combat boots. The color had returned to his skin. He was still pale, but not scary.

  He took my hands in his and kissed my cheek, lingering a little too long. The blood. Shit. He needed more. “Thanks for the other night. You saved the show.”

  My trip to the future flashed before my eyes, the show was already on the brink of failure before it began. “Have we decided on an opening date?”

  “We were waiting for you.” That was a relief. “I’m hoping for a week from Saturday. There’s only so long I can skate by on blood donations and the weird energy in here.”

  His gaze slid to Rainey. He had to have noticed that she made a difference. A positive vibration emitted from her.

  “I’ll be ready.” I grinned at him and pulled my hands away. “But there’s a lot of work to do. Is the band here? I’d like to get a few full rehearsals in before the big day.”

  “Yeah, they’re here. Ready to go.” Tristan had said that he planned to recruit members of Soul Divider. I wondered how they were faring in this energy drought. If they were in good shape, I wondered how they maintained it, and how we’d get Tristan on their diet.

  The band took the stage and something rumbled deep inside me. I hoped it was my fire waking from its slumber, but it was most likely anxiety. My track record with vampire bands was nothing short of tragic. Rainey squeezed my hand. I hoped my trepidation wasn’t that obvious, but she lived through the last disaster, picked the broken pieces of me up from the floor, and put them back together with her love. Nobody would notice we were holding hands while the band took the stage for the first time. The first time I saw them, anyway. This close to opening, I had to be on my A-game. No excuses.

  I scanned the faces, making sure Tristan had kept his promise of no Noah. The rules kept changing and bending to loosely fit what I signed off on. But when Ryder Maddox stepped up to the microphone in the middle of the stage, I relaxed. My muscles were still heavy and the anticipation made them ache.

  Cameras were everywhere, and they insisted on hooking a microphone on me. Also not in the contract, but now was not the time to argue. The producers realized the real story of The Afterlife would happen behind the scenes. And if they were to compel people to give us their energy and money like they had for Immortal Dilemma, they couldn’t afford to miss a second.

  The stage rotated, the band was shifted over to the side, and a pole took the center of the stage.

  “What the hell?” I asked as I approached the pole. “I thought I’d be the only one spinning.”

  “The stage always did this, but we never used it during the Dilemma shows. Didn’t need to.” Tristan lowered his guitar strap over his bare chest. He was in full battle regalia tonight, too. “This way, you get everything you need.”

  He winked at me before joining the rest of the band.

  Callie stood on the other side of the stage next to someone I hadn’t expected to see there. Rachel. It was the first time I saw her since our run-in at Embrace. Her boyfriend, Josiah, played bass in my new band. I’d try not to hold his relationship with her against him. But I wondered if the no-Blade rule extended to Rachel and the members of Soul Divider. Rachel had made no secret of her plans of anarchy. And those involved Blade. There were no consequences to breaking the rule. Callie had yet to catch me with him, and if she did, I’d let it slip, in front of one of the million cameras in this theater, that she was a major accessory to the murder of Tristan’s last band.

  I had to get used to playing with fire any way I could.

  A pole separated me from the band and the women who stood on the other side of the stage. I stepped out, clicking my heels in time with the drum beat. I dipped and swayed, letting my body become one with the music. Swinging my jacket over my head, I sent it skidding across the stage, and it landed at Callie and Rachel’s feet. With my two sets of false lashes, they wouldn’t miss my wink. I grabbed the pole, taking my first go ‘round. A simple swing with my free arm and leg extended. Falling forward so I went faster, I wrapped my leg around the pole and let the momentum take me to the ground.

  Once we worked out the lighting, I’d be silhouetted with a red glow, and my loose curls would look like flames rising around me. I knelt on the floor, whipping my hair back before I grabbed the pole again, using it to anchor me to the top. I had so much more room to play on this stage.

  Tristan’s guitar solo reached its crescendo, and the basket of flaming irons awaited me. I tingled all over as I approached it; I could barely feel my legs. With cameras capturing every angle of this rehearsal, I could not face-plant into a bucket of fire. I tipped my head back, waiting for the music to come to a stop.

  I swallowed the flame.

  Warmth spread throughout my body as the fire flowed through my veins. This was what it was supposed to feel like. I bounded over to the pole, and if I nailed my timing, I’d ignite in the middle of my first spin.

  Everything should’ve turned red. I made another rotation, waiting for it, but all that poured out of me was smoke. Stupid, gray, ugly, smoke. I collapsed to the floor in a fit of coughing as the song ended.

  Now I was the one with the crowd rushing to help me. Someone handed me a bottle of water. I almost batted it away in frustration, but I needed it. My body was full of unspent heat, and
each sip hurt.

  “What the hell happened?” Callie frowned above me with her hands on her hips. Rachel stood behind her, grinning. Bitch. She couldn’t even pretend to be concerned. Ryder and Tristan pulled me to my feet, and Rainey wrapped her arms around me. A cloud of smoke surrounded us, and soot fell on my skin and in her hair. This was much more mortifying than the night Noah pulled me on stage at the Soul Divider show. At least that night I knew I had no fire. I hadn’t talked a big game and fallen, literally, flat on my face.

  “You can’t have a liability like that on the roster.” Rachel crossed her arms, looking far too smug. “Tickets already went on sale. The show will fail night one. Get rid of her.”

  I lunged at her, ignoring Rainey tugging at me. “What the hell do you have against me?” I thought her neutralizing my fire had been a fumble on her part, one that she held over me as a trophy. But every time I saw her, her attacks intensified. Now she was screwing my livelihood.

  “Holly.” Rainey grasped my shoulders, and Rachel snickered. Rainey interrupted an epic stare-down that had no chance of ending well. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “I’M NOT AFRAID OF HER.” Smoke came out of my mouth as I chased after Rainey. A man with a camera jogged after us, trying to get as much of the exchange as he could. I turned around and glared at him as I ripped the mic free from my costume. Later, I’d regret tossing it at him, but for now, it felt good. “No filming after I perform. It’s in the contract.”

  I watched him until he disappeared around the corner.

  “We can’t talk about this here.” Rainey grabbed my arm like I was being punished. People called after us, but Rainey took the role of my manager seriously, and shook her head.

  “I wish you didn’t drag me out of there like that. You made me look weak,” I said once we got to the car. The wheels squealed on the slick concrete of the parking garage. Rainey took the corner way too fast and almost took out some drunken tourists. They threw their oversized plastic cup at the car and something I hoped was beer splashed over our back window.