between us. He cupped my face in his hands, lifted my chin, examining my eyes. He turned my face to the side, checked one side of my neck then the other. After a second he let me go and stepped back. “Yeah. Fine. You’re not showing a mark. But you’ve still got a buzz going, so don’t go and do anything stupid.”
“Right.” Already filled my quota of stupid tonight.
He reached for the rusted metal door. As I watched, his normal stubby male fingernails elongated, turned clawlike, and hooked between wall and door. A small tug and the door swung open. I did not want to know what that was about.
I spotted Alex right away, his tousled blond mop of hair bobbing up and down above the seated customers at the bar as he hurried filling drink orders. Between heads and shoulders, I caught glimpses of his face. He was beaming, talking to club goers, laughing, even rocking to the beat of the music now and then.
He sooo did not seem like a hundred-and-some-year-old vampire. With his summer tan and bright blue eyes, he looked like he should be standing on a pitcher’s mound, ready to strike out the next batter. Dark and brooding, he wasn’t. He was young and healthy and hard bodied. And the way he moved, like water over smooth stones, grace and agility, I’d bet anything he could go all night. My belly fluttered and a smile tugged the corners of my mouth.
“Hey, barkeep, got any OJ back there?” With Octavius’s venom still warming through my system, I figured alcohol would be like adding fuel to a fire and my libido was already flaming.
Alex glanced my way at the first sound of my voice. His brows creased, his pretty eyes and flashy smile clouding a bit. He finished the drink he was making, then strode toward me, ignoring other customers snapping fingers and waving bills for his attention.
“What happened? Who’s fed on you?” He was in front of me in a heartbeat, leaning across the bar so his face was only inches from mine, totally invading my comfort bubble.
I flinched back. Then realized he was sniffing me. “What the…? Nobody. Knock it off. You’re creepin’ me out.”
Alex straightened, but his expression remained tense, concerned. “I can smell venom on you. On your breath. What happened? Whose is it?”
“First…orange juice.” My throat was dry as a desert wind, and I was still light-headed and flushed. “Won’t do us any good if I pass out.”
He grabbed a short glass from under the bar and turned to snag the jug of orange juice from the mini fridge under the center island. He poured then pushed the glass toward me. “Talk.”
I drank half of it in one gulp. “You know a guy named Octavius Perrotte? Owns a restaurant called Sinners up on Mount Washington.”
Alex stiffened, his concerned expression turning sour, like the taste in his mouth had just gone bad. “Yes.”
“Right. I’m thinkin’ he feels the same way about you.” I finished the rest of the OJ and pushed my glass out for more. “Anyway, I was cordially summoned to dinner by your old buddy, Perrotte. He sent a car. Sent this dress. The guy seriously wanted to talk to me.”
“About what?”
“You.” He blinked at that, confusion flashing behind his eyes. “Well, I mean, that’s all we ended up talking about. He asked how you were doing, how the business was going, stuff like that. He was sure you and me were…a thing. I told him we barely knew each other but I still don’t think he believed me.”
Alex’s nostrils flared and he clenched his jaws so tight I could see the muscles flexing in his cheeks. “Did he…kiss you?”
“What? No.” Offense made my voice go high. “Well, okay. Yeah. Once. But it wasn’t my fault. He drugged me. I think. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stood a chance. I just met the guy. Sheesh, what kind of women are you vamps used to dating?” Then again I’d kissed Alex the first night I’d met him. And if not for my sixth sense warning me off, I might’ve done a lot more with
“Right.” Already filled my quota of stupid tonight.
He reached for the rusted metal door. As I watched, his normal stubby male fingernails elongated, turned clawlike, and hooked between wall and door. A small tug and the door swung open. I did not want to know what that was about.
I spotted Alex right away, his tousled blond mop of hair bobbing up and down above the seated customers at the bar as he hurried filling drink orders. Between heads and shoulders, I caught glimpses of his face. He was beaming, talking to club goers, laughing, even rocking to the beat of the music now and then.
He sooo did not seem like a hundred-and-some-year-old vampire. With his summer tan and bright blue eyes, he looked like he should be standing on a pitcher’s mound, ready to strike out the next batter. Dark and brooding, he wasn’t. He was young and healthy and hard bodied. And the way he moved, like water over smooth stones, grace and agility, I’d bet anything he could go all night. My belly fluttered and a smile tugged the corners of my mouth.
“Hey, barkeep, got any OJ back there?” With Octavius’s venom still warming through my system, I figured alcohol would be like adding fuel to a fire and my libido was already flaming.
Alex glanced my way at the first sound of my voice. His brows creased, his pretty eyes and flashy smile clouding a bit. He finished the drink he was making, then strode toward me, ignoring other customers snapping fingers and waving bills for his attention.
“What happened? Who’s fed on you?” He was in front of me in a heartbeat, leaning across the bar so his face was only inches from mine, totally invading my comfort bubble.
I flinched back. Then realized he was sniffing me. “What the…? Nobody. Knock it off. You’re creepin’ me out.”
Alex straightened, but his expression remained tense, concerned. “I can smell venom on you. On your breath. What happened? Whose is it?”
“First…orange juice.” My throat was dry as a desert wind, and I was still light-headed and flushed. “Won’t do us any good if I pass out.”
He grabbed a short glass from under the bar and turned to snag the jug of orange juice from the mini fridge under the center island. He poured then pushed the glass toward me. “Talk.”
I drank half of it in one gulp. “You know a guy named Octavius Perrotte? Owns a restaurant called Sinners up on Mount Washington.”
Alex stiffened, his concerned expression turning sour, like the taste in his mouth had just gone bad. “Yes.”
“Right. I’m thinkin’ he feels the same way about you.” I finished the rest of the OJ and pushed my glass out for more. “Anyway, I was cordially summoned to dinner by your old buddy, Perrotte. He sent a car. Sent this dress. The guy seriously wanted to talk to me.”
“About what?”
“You.” He blinked at that, confusion flashing behind his eyes. “Well, I mean, that’s all we ended up talking about. He asked how you were doing, how the business was going, stuff like that. He was sure you and me were…a thing. I told him we barely knew each other but I still don’t think he believed me.”
Alex’s nostrils flared and he clenched his jaws so tight I could see the muscles flexing in his cheeks. “Did he…kiss you?”
“What? No.” Offense made my voice go high. “Well, okay. Yeah. Once. But it wasn’t my fault. He drugged me. I think. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stood a chance. I just met the guy. Sheesh, what kind of women are you vamps used to dating?” Then again I’d kissed Alex the first night I’d met him. And if not for my sixth sense warning me off, I might’ve done a lot more with
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