A whimpering sound behind me reminded me my job wasn’t done. The last vampire seemed almost happy to be put out of his misery when I went to kill him.
Feet pounded on pavement, and I looked up as Raoul filled the doorway with Mason and Brock behind him.
Raoul’s lips pressed together as he took in the scene. “You turned off your radio?”
“Of course not.” I patted the inner pocket of my jacket where I carried the small device, but the pocket was empty. Crap.
I gave Raoul a sheepish smile. “It must have fallen out when I jumped off the laundromat.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“You jumped off a two-story building in those boots?” Brock gave me a lopsided smile. “Hot.”
Raoul shot him a warning look. “Do not encourage her.” He cocked his head as if he was listening to something. Then he said, “Copy that,” before he looked at us. “All clear.”
“How many in total?” I asked.
“Fourteen,” Raoul replied. “And six humans recovered.”
“I’d call that a good night’s work.” I tallied up my kills in my head as I wiped my blade on the jeans of one of the dead vampires. Six out of fourteen. Not bad at all.
“And since Jordan had the most kills, she gets the honor of writing up the report,” Raoul announced.
The smile fell from my lips, and I didn’t try to hide my dismay. There were few things I detested more than writing up field reports. It was so tedious and boring. But the Council was a stickler for record keeping. One of these days, I was going to tell them what they could do with their reports.
Raoul patted my back. “It should only take an hour, two tops.”
Mason snickered, and I fixed my gaze on him.
“Don’t worry. It will still give us plenty of time to go out tonight,” I said sweetly.
He looked like he was in pain. “Wouldn’t you rather find some other girls to go out with?”
“I don’t know any other girls here, so you’re my new BFF.”
“I miss Beth,” he grumbled.
I missed Beth, too. And Sara. I didn’t make female friends easily, and it figured that my two best girlfriends had gone and settled down with mates. They were ridiculously happy, and I was happy for them. But I missed having them around. Mason was fun to hang with, even when he pretended not to like it, but it just wasn’t the same.
Maybe it was time for a visit. I talked to Sara and Beth all the time, but we hadn’t seen each other since the week I spent at Westhorne for Christmas, and that was five months ago. The two of them, along with Nikolas and Chris, were in Chicago now, setting up the newest command center.
Sara was six months pregnant – something I still found hard to believe – and whenever we talked, she complained that Nikolas wouldn’t let her do anything fun. I bet she would love a visitor.
The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. I loved Los Angeles and my job, but every girl needed a little vacation once in a while.
I didn’t realize I was smiling until Mason waved a hand in front of my face.
“What’s so amusing?” he asked warily.
I winked as I walked past him. “I’m just thinking about how much fun we’re going to have tonight.”
* * *
“How long do we have to stay here?” Mason complained as he leaned back against the bar, wearing a bored expression.
“We’ve barely been here an hour.”
“And that’s an hour of my life I’ll never get back.”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “Come on. It’s not that bad. Maybe if you moved away from this spot, you’d enjoy yourself. God knows there are enough girls wanting to dance with you.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Jealous?”
A laugh burst from me. “I can barely keep from throwing myself at you.”
“You wound me,” he said with a sad face that might have been believable if not for the gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“I’ll make it up to you.” My gaze moved past him to the hordes of women nearby, some of whom were staring greedily at my friend.
“What are you doing?” he asked as I studied the faces around us.
Ignoring him, I continued my perusal. There were a lot of gorgeous women here, but most of them weren’t his type. Mason was pretty laid back, and the majority of these women looked too high-maintenance for him. No, he needed someone more like…
I smiled when my gaze landed on a trio of blondes. Two of them were dressed in short tight dresses that showed off their toned bodies and enhanced breasts. The third one wore a dress, too, but she was trying to discreetly tug on the hem when she thought no one was looking. She was as pretty as her friends, but her whole demeanor told me she felt out of place here. She kind of reminded me of Sara when I used to drag her out clubbing with me.
The girl’s two friends said something to her. She shook her head, and they walked to the dance floor and started dancing with each other.
“Back in a sec,” I said to Mason as I left him and walked over to the girl.
I gave her my most winning smile. “Hi. Love your dress.”
“Thanks.” She shyly returned my smile. “I like yours, too.”
I leaned in to speak in her ear. “Hey, do you see that tall, hot guy behind me in the gray shirt?”
She glanced around me, and her eyes widened when they found Mason. “Yes.”
“That’s my friend Mason. I made him come with me tonight, and this is not really his scene. I think he’d feel better if he had someone other than me to talk to.”
She shook her head. “I… He doesn’t look like he needs help meeting people.”
“He’s shyer than he looks,” I lied. “You want to meet him?”
“Me?”
“You have a nice face,” I told her honestly. “I have a good feeling about you.”
“Oh.” She stole another peek behind me. “Okay.”
“Great! I’m Jordan, by the way.”
“I’m Emily,” she replied as I led her over to the bar. Mason watched me curiously as I approached with my new friend in tow.
“Mason, this is Emily. Emily, Mason.” I smiled at them, ignoring his questioning look. “You two get to know each other. I’ll be right back.”
Before either of them could say anything, I split, disappearing into the crowd. When I got to the other side of the club, I looked over to see Mason and Emily deep in conversation.
Called it. I gave myself a mental pat on the back as I searched for someone to dance with. I was always bursting with energy after a job, and dancing was one of my favorite ways to burn some of it off. My other favorite way required a bit more privacy than this place offered.
I checked out the men around me and got more than a few interested looks in return. I passed on them because in my heels I was over six feet, and I didn’t like dancing with someone shorter than I was. It cut down on my options, but a girl wants what she wants.
The crowd parted, and I found what I was looking for. Standing at around six-four with wide shoulders and a trim waist, he was perfect. He looked my way, and I took in the black hair and olive skin that gave him an exotic appearance. I smiled in appreciation. You’ll do nicely.
I walked up to him, and neither of us spoke when I took his hand and led him to the dance floor. Pressing my back to his chest, I lifted my arms above my head, and began to move. His hands settled on my hips, and he ground against me in a sensual dance that sent heat to all the right places in my body.
By the end of our third dance, I didn’t need to feel his arousal to know he was as into me as I was into him. I could smell the lust coming off him in waves. We still hadn’t spoken, but no words were necessary. I wanted him, and he wanted me.
I turned in his arms and leaned in close enough for my lips to brush his ear. Mmmm. He smelled good. “Want to get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said in a deep, husky voice that sent a thrill through me.
I glanced in Mason’s direction and found him still at the bar, talking to Emily. Smiling, I looked at my companion. “Don’t go anywhere. I have to tell my friend I’m leaving.”
I was going to get an earful from Mason about forcing him to come with me and then ditching him. But I’d offer to go surfing with him this week to make up for it. I’d done it a few times, and it was kind of fun. I was a California girl through and through.
I’d barely gone two steps when a girl stumbled into me, dumping the contents of her glass down the front of my dress. I swore as a pink stain spread across the white fabric.
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry,” she slurred.
Waving her off, I turned toward the restrooms to clean up as best I could. I bypassed the small line outside, and a few women complained until I turned to face them and they saw my dress. They waved me in ahead of them. Not that it mattered. The dress would require a professional cleaning to get the stain out.
I grabbed some paper towels and started blotting up the liquid, barely paying attention to the people around me. My mind was on the man waiting for me and how I planned to spend the rest of my night. The way he’d held me against him and his unhurried movements told me he was good at more than dancing, and I was looking forward to getting him alone.
The sound of retching in one of the stalls pulled me from my pleasant thoughts. In the mirror, my eyes met those of the girl at the next sink. Her lips pressed together, and she looked a little green as she hurriedly finished washing her hands. I went back to cleaning my dress. I’d seen and heard worse things than some drunk girl puking.
“Oh, my God. What is that smell?” someone choked out a second before a putrid odor filled the air around me. My nose twitched, and I nearly gagged on the foulness that smelled like a mix of sewage and blood.
Stall doors were flung open, and women ran for the restroom door without stopping to wash their hands. In a matter of seconds, I was the only one left in the room. Well, me and the unfortunate woman who was still throwing up.
“Hey, are you okay in there?” I called, figuring someone had to check on her.
She moaned and started sobbing between bouts of retching. I stared at her bare legs visible beneath the stall door, unsure of what to do. Aside from Sara that one time, I hadn’t been around many sick people in my life. I put a hand over my nose. Was it normal for it to smell this awful?
The woman began making a gagging, choking sound. Afraid she might be dying in there, I banged on the stall door. “Hey, are you –?”
My question was cut off by the sound of something hitting the water in the toilet with a loud plop. That in itself was alarming enough. And then a squelching, splashing sound came from the toilet.
“What the fuck?”
There was a soft thump as the woman collapsed on the floor. Bending down, I grasped her foot, which was jutting out beneath the door, and dragged her from the stall. Her dark hair was plastered to her face, and a greenish black sludge covered her mouth and the front of her red dress. It left a trail on the floor, and it smelled even worse up close, if that was possible. I checked the pulse at her throat and found a faint heartbeat. She was alive but barely.