He turned to me, bowed his head, and smiled. Fangs. His dark eyes twinkled. “I have heard of you, Dr. Knight. It’s lovely to meet you in person.”
I sat properly on my stool and gave him a friendly smile. Anyone who could animate Victoria’s face like that was aces in my book. His shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair made him appear to be somewhere between forty and fifty. I hadn’t met a vampire that old before. Not that forty-something was old, but most vampires were brought over sooner. I wondered what his story was.
Nigel brought our drinks, winked at me, and bolted away. He must have seen the gleam I’m sure I had in my eyes.
I slammed the tequila shots, one after the other. “Wow. Those were tasty. I think I’ll get a couple more. You two go on and find a romantic corner.” I saw Victoria’s smile slide into a frown and patted her arm. “Seriously. I’m just letting off some steam. I’ll go find the lord and master shortly, but before that, I want to dance! It’s been ages since I let my Inner Wild Woman out.”
Victoria gave Winston a pained look, as if she were trying to telepathically communicate something she didn’t want to share with me. “I think we should invite Kismet to sit with us while she waits for Devereux to arrive, don’t you, Winston?”
“Certainly.” He smiled, oozing charm. “What man wouldn’t be pleased to have a beautiful woman on each arm?” He extended both elbows, either waiting for us to grab on, or preparing to flop his arms in a chicken imitation. I laughed. He cocked his head, a confused expression flowing across his handsome features.
“I’m sorry. I have a weird sense of humor. Seriously. I don’t want to go and sit with you until my owner comes to fetch me. I want to have some fun. So, run along.”
They both stared at me, so I added emphasis. “Really.”
Winston bowed, put his arm around Victoria, and guided her across the room. She glanced back once, her face an unhappy mask.
I climbed back up on my knees, plopped my chest on the bar, and hollered, “Nigel! More alcohol, please!”
He ambled over. “Do you want another tequila shot?”
“Hey, no fair reading minds.”
He smiled as he poured the potent liquid into my glass. “It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that you’ll probably find the trouble you’re seeking. I heard that a certain ancient vampire hunter is in town and he’s taken a fancy to you. If you’d heed a word of advice, I think you should be more careful than usual. Something evil is percolating, if you know what I mean. If even half the legends about Hallow are true, he’s a deranged vampire. You’d do well to stay out of his path.”
I reached over and stroked his pale cheek, giving him my brightest smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to duck out for a few minutes?”
Nigel gently removed my hand from his face. “Dr. Knight. Because I know how crazy Devereux is about you, I wish you’d take my warning seriously. Hallow has come to kill someone. If the rumors are right, it might be someone close to Devereux. I’d suspect it was you if you were a vampire, but the situation is very ominous. Why don’t I send someone downstairs to find Devereux for you?” He stared into my eyes, making a valiant effort to entrance me. “You really don’t want to dance tonight. You want to be a good little human and stay out of trouble.”
I laughed and he backed up, surprised. “That was awesome, Nigel. Ineffective, but awesome. I’m not that easy to buzz. But I do appreciate your concern. I’ll tell Devereux what a darling you are.”
I downed the shot, jumped off the stool, and waved good-bye to Nigel over my shoulder.
The band was playing an upbeat, heavy-rock number and I stood on the edge of the dance floor, jiggling in place. My stiletto heels gave me the height I needed to see over the heads of the crowd, which made it much easier to scan the area for potential dance partners. Lyrics from an old song my father loved—something about a stranger across a crowded room—popped into my mind as I laid eyes on the dark-haired cover boy strolling in my direction.
My face didn’t feel big enough to hold the smile that spread my lips. Oh, yeah. Things were definitely looking up.
Chapter Twelve
“Hey, pretty lady. I was just standing over there, thinking I’d like to find someone soft and curvy to dance with, and there you were. We must’ve been destined to meet, wouldn’t you say?” He spoke with a subtle Western twang.
I just couldn’t stop smiling. The sweet young thing probably wasn’t even twenty-one. I wondered how he’d gotten past Ankh. The band had paused long enough for the musicians to suck on various beer bottles before launching into the next tune, so I was able to hear my new companion without any need for him to yell.
“My, my. Aren’t you adorable?” I trailed a fingernail down the front of his shirt. “What’s your name, handsome?”
In my stilettos, I was almost six feet tall, but my sumptuous companion didn’t seem intimidated by my Wonder Woman stance. He wore cowboy boots with a heel that elevated him a couple of inches over me. His slender, toned body was showcased perfectly in the jeans and black T-shirt he wore. The yummy stranger ran his fingers through a mass of thick, dark, shoulder-length hair. Blue eyes gazed soulfully from beneath thick lashes. I was certain there had to be a Stetson on the front seat of his truck. He grinned. Fangless. “I’m Trevor, Trey to my friends.” He offered his hand for me to shake.
What a delicious morsel. I clasped his warm hand and held on, pulling him closer. “Well, Trey. I don’t know if you’ve got a thing for older women because of unresolved mother issues, or if you just want to play with fire, but I’m ready.”
The drummer counted time, raising his drumsticks over his head, and the first chords of a classic Led Zeppelin tune split the air.
I tugged Trey onto the dance floor. He registered surprise, but quickly boogied into the spirit of things. We elbowed our way through the fray, moving to the powerful rhythm. He was a natural. Watching his slim h*ps undulate was a treat for the eyes. And the libido.
We rocked to the driving beat, and by the time the song—extended by a series of long instrumental solos—ended, the temperature in the club had spiked into the tropical range. We grabbed onto each other, laughing. I slid my hands down his shoulders, appreciating the fine muscle tone. He leaned back and grinned, shifting his gaze down to my br**sts. The look on his face made it clear he believed he’d scored and his orgasmic dreams were all about to come true.
I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted to slip away with the luscious lad or not, but I was enjoying the feel of his hard body next to mine. He bent forward and kissed me. He smelled like fresh, young male, and I had a quick fantasy about licking my way down his muscled frame.
The band began playing a slow song, and Trey pulled me in, his obvious erection pressed against my stomach. He tilted his head, aiming his lips in my direction, when an arm snaked around my waist from behind, pulling me backward and lifting me a couple of inches off the floor.
“Hey! What the …”
Thanks to his distinctive medallion, I quickly recognized the feel of the chest my back was pinned against. Trey’s eyes went glassy and his mouth slowly sagged open. A velvet voice cut through the music.
“Thank you for entertaining my fiancée, my friend. I was delayed in arriving and it was most kind of you to make sure she enjoyed herself. Here.” Devereux shifted me to his hip, as if I were an unruly toddler, and handed Trey several business-card-size pieces of paper. “These will provide complimentary drinks for you and a guest for the rest of the night. Go now.”
Trey shook his head vigorously, gave a blank stare, and shuffled off the dance floor.
“You can put me down now, Mr. Party Pooper.”
He released me. “Pooper?”
I pivoted, prepared to give him hell for ruining my high school fantasy, and smiled instead. My hormones said, “Yippee!” What a gorgeous hunk of manhood. A platinum-haired, high-fashion leather god. My hands caressed his chest, sliding along the soft fabric of his silver, silk T-shirt. “Never mind about pooper. Dance with me.”
He studied my face, his expression serious. “I cannot read you. Something is very wrong.”
“Oh, come on, blondie.” I reached up and clasped my hands behind his neck, molding my body to his. “Stop whining and dance.”
He wrapped me in his arms and began swaying to the music. After a few seconds, I felt a tingling along my scalp and leaned back far enough to meet his eyes. “Are you doing something? My head feels funny.”
He gazed at me with such intensity my knees went soft and he had to tighten his hold to keep me on my feet. “I am using all my power to scan your memories and your thoughts, and it is as if they are enshrouded in an impenetrable haze. I can sense vague pictures, but nothing makes any sense. I have never experienced this before. Do you know why I cannot penetrate your mind?”
I blinked a few times, trying to dissipate the woozy feeling, and laughed. “I’d rather talk about you penetrating something else. Here I am, all dressed up just for you, and you’re talking about mind reading.” I threaded my fingers through the long, soft strands of his hair. “What’s it going to take to get you in a romantic mood?”
The music stopped and Devereux frowned. “Come.” He gently released my arms from around his neck, grabbed my hand, and tugged me through the crowd. We hurried to the door leading down to the lower level of the club. He nodded at John the vampire addict, whose job it was to keep humans away from the secret portions of the building. John opened the heavy door and we stepped inside. Instead of climbing down the steep stairs, Devereux encircled my waist with his arm and thought us into his private bedroom.
The large room was actually more like a combination studio, ritual space, and sleeping area than an actual bedroom. I had asked him if he really slept there instead of in a coffin, and he’d just smiled without answering. Funny how he was so close-mouthed about anything to do with his own life, but insisted that my brain be an open book.
Everything was pretty much as it had been the last time I’d visited. Devereux was an accomplished artist and his paintings filled the walls. A corner of the room was devoted to art supplies, empty canvases, and easels holding works-in-progress. He’d hung the portrait he painted of me—supposedly eight hundred years earlier—in a prominent place, with special lighting above and below. It was displayed alongside the portrait of his mother—the dead one who’d showed up in the flesh at a ritual to welcome me to the family.
Long tables cluttered with bottles, ornate boxes, candles, and New Age paraphernalia shared the space between the art supplies and the bed. A beautiful, large, amethyst ball balanced on a golden pedestal in readiness for future casting. Apparently, Devereux was a well-known seer. He’d told me the strange bottles contained herbs and other ingredients for his magic spells and potions. I thought he was kidding, and that his hocus-pocus was a silly hobby, but he disavowed me of that notion. In fact, he’d done things for which I had no rational explanation. Not that I had a rational explanation for the vampire thing, either.
He flicked his fingers, igniting several candles, and stepped back, staring at me with a sour expression on his face. “I must find a solution to this problem.”
“What problem?”
He ignored me. “If my vampire powers are not sufficient to the task, then I will create a magical resolution.” He started to move away toward a door leading to an outer office. “I must consult my books for an appropriate spell.”
I sprinted in front of him, cutting him off. “Wait a minute, love buns. I didn’t come down here to sit alone while you indulge your woo-woo research. I have my own agenda. A woman has needs, you know.” I batted my eyelashes and gave what I hoped was a naughty smile. “Let’s go sit on the bed and talk a while.”
He shot me another dose of his laser vampiric orbs, making my knees buckle. I grabbed the sides of my head. “Ow, dammit, knock it off! You’re giving me a headache. If my skull explodes, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
He lifted me into his arms. “You should not be able to resist such powerful mental probes. Hallow must be visiting your dreams in order to create such blockage. I cast a very strong protective spell on your home after I left yesterday, so I know that he could not accost you there. And, since I told you not to leave, you should have been safe.” He walked over to the bed and deposited me on the multi-colored duvet. He sat on the edge and removed his boots before crawling up beside me.
I smiled even bigger and scooted over, giving him room to sit next to me. I smoothed my hand along his leather-clad leg, heading north. “That’s more like it. Less talking, more fun.”
He stared at me, one eyebrow raised. “Victoria and Nigel are correct. You are, indeed, behaving like a hormonal adolescent. Somehow Hallow has managed to control you. I must find a way to counteract his influence. I fear for your safety. This new personality you are exhibiting is mindless and dangerous. Just like the one who contaminated you.”
What new personality? Contaminated me? Hormonal adolescent?
My fingers reached the zipper of his pants and I’d just started making him much more comfortable, when he grabbed my hand, lifting it away from his crotch. “No. We have important matters to discuss. Personal pleasure can wait. Tell me what you remember of the last twenty-four hours.”
I stuck my lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, but got no response from my undead judge and jury. “I don’t remember anything.” And then, having said that, I realized the last couple of days were rather fuzzy. I had the sense that I should remember something important, but I just couldn’t bring whatever it was into consciousness. I could easily recall the clients I’d seen on Friday, but after that, everything was gone.