by Brea Viragh
The driver parked in front of the address, and she glanced out the window at the three stories of building with no discerning features whatsoever. Lavinia tugged at the hem of her dress, falling a neat six inches above her knees—not that she’d measured. And her palms were still sweaty! What had she gotten herself into? With her luck, Pike would have her practice fighting some kind of gargoyle on top of the roof to see if she could balance in heels and a dress. Whatever it was he had in store, she knew it wouldn’t be good. It wouldn’t be something her flaky visions could help with.
“Is this the place?” Her driver drew the parking brake and joined her in looking out the window. “You sure?”
It was only when she took the time to look, really look, did she see the glamour painted over the bricks near the front door. The pulse of lights showed her the club for what it was. A place to gather. A place to dance. To drink. To party.
She nodded with a slight exhale, relieved beyond measure. “Absolutely, thanks. This is the place.” She dug in her purse for the fare and included a hefty tip for the man. “Here you go. Keep the change.”
It took another long moment for her to get her bearings. The cab zipped off down the street, and she wondered what it was about humans that made them so oblivious to the world of magic around them. Sure, it had taken her some time to zoom in on the enchantment masking the entrance to the club. Now that she had, she could see the flash, the zing, the zip. She heard the music and felt it through the soles of her rather inconvenient shoes.
Part of her knew that if given the choice, she wouldn’t want to go back to her old self. Her old world.
Lavinia hugged her jacket closer to her body as the wind bit into her skin. It might have been approaching the witching hour, but there were hardly any people in sight. Those waiting near the corners of the building held their ground as if rooted. Waiting for others to appear and make their mark. She wondered if one of them was a bouncer.
She was about to walk up and knock on the door when a hand fell on her shoulder. Screeching, Lavinia whirled around with her arms up. Ready to…what? Attack? She didn’t have a prayer if it was another ghoul hell-bent on sucking her liver out through a straw.
What she saw was a devilish smile accompanied by the cutest dimple she’d ever seen in her life. Then the scent hit her. Masculine. Intoxicating. The type of smell that hooked you around the heart and dragged you down so deep you had no choice but to—
“You made it on time.”
“Of course!” she responded, trying to sound excited. Eager, even. Instead, she was worried about whether she could pull this off without any mess-ups.
He looked better than she’d ever seen him, which was not to say he didn’t look like an eleven on a daily basis. Sometime between their afternoon karakondzula failure and now, Pike had taken the time to change his outfit. He was no longer the bad boy in ripped jeans and a faded jacket. The kind your mother warned you not to play with.
He was a billionaire playboy, an entrepreneur out on the town. He’d ditched the boots for a sleek pair of black wingtips, which probably cost more than the monthly rent on her apartment. Instead of the jeans, there were trousers, and the jacket became a double-breasted overcoat in a dark charcoal.
Meow.
She couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop the thin raindrop of drool that wanted to escape from her open and gaping mouth.
“You did something.” Pike gestured. He didn’t seem bothered by her lack of tact. If she’d given it a second thought, he was probably quite pleased with himself for having gotten the reaction he worked for and wanted. “With the eyes.”
Lavinia ducked and sent her bangs into her face to hide the slight sheen of eyeshadow and eyeliner and mascara she’d painstakingly painted onto her lashes. “Yeah, I did a little something. I thought, hey, if you’re going out, you gotta look the part. I’m just not used to dressing up. This is, well, it’s not me.”
Pike nodded. “It looks good on you. Really. I’m not just making shit up.”
Her mood instantly brightened. How horrible. “Thank you. I appreciate the kind words.”
“Do you know why we’re here?”
She shook her head. “Not a clue. Just don’t expect me to move much.” She ran a hand along the sleek line of her dress. “The outfit isn’t really conducive toward fighting. Tell me there isn’t a goblin in your pocket.”
“Maybe I’m just happy to see you.”
The high-pitched giggle definitely didn’t belong to her. So why was it coming out of her mouth?
“Come on.” His fingertips trailed along her waist to guide her forward. “You look beautiful. Stop fidgeting.”
Indeed, her fingers were plucking at the too-high skirt and too-low neckline of her dress. She tried to still their motion. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous. I don’t come to places like this.”
Never had, even in her teen years, and definitely not since she’d become immortal.
“Places like this, they’re just glorified dance halls, love. Relax,” Pike soothed. His gaze flipped up toward the bouncer at the door—that’s definitely what the man was, Lavinia now thought—towering a hair above seven feet tall. Pike flipped a twenty in his direction. The man caught the bill and didn’t move another muscle as the door swung inward on creaky hinges.
“After you.”
Lavinia eyed the doorway with the discernment of a skeptic from way back. Her instincts were trying to tell her something. What? It was dark inside, with booming bass and faint curls of smoke in the air in front of her. She squinted, willing her brain for a vision, willing her gifts of precognition to work on command. A snap of the finger and she would know whether it was safe to proceed or not.
Her mind was a blank slate.
“Are you sure it’s—” Her words cut off when Pike propelled her through the door and down a small set of stairs.
“You’re stalling. It’s safe, I promise. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Her heels clicked on the steps and she tried to get her knees to stiffen. At least support her enough so she didn’t go somersaulting toward the ground.
Of course she was stalling. She had enough self-preservation left to understand she was stepping over a line. This was Pike’s world. While she wanted desperately to belong, a part of her held back. There was enough human inside of her still to be wary. To know there was danger lurking around the corner and if she wasn’t careful, snap. She’d be gobbled whole. What had she said about not going back if given the chance? Yeah, maybe she wasn’t sure anymore.
The goosebumps on her arms and neck attested to the fact. She was truly scared about what lay at the bottom of those steps. What kinds of creatures she would encounter once she got down there. Creatures she thought only existed between the pages of a book.
She was one of them.
Sparing a glance at Pike, she felt warmth twisting and coiling beneath her heart. With him there, she would be fine. This she didn’t need a vision to know.
“I’ve never been better,” she assured him. She hustled down the stairs to prove her point. “I’m operating at optimum efficiency. Ready for whatever you’re going to throw my way.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She heard his feet treading lightly behind her. At once, the psychic signatures of the people packed into the space assaulted her. A vision of a young werewolf who would be challenging his pack leader for alpha status next week. A half-fairy woman out shopping with her friends and choosing a delightful blue blouse on sale at half off.
How was any of it useful?
“This club has no name,” Pike told her, leaning close. His breath tickled her ear. This time, the goosebumps had nothing to do with fear of the unknown but everything to do with the man behind her. The force of his presence and the heat of his body trailing up her spine. “It’s an off-the-radar hangout for a melting pot of different paranormals. A place for sex and sin.”
“Oh. Oookay, great.” Lavinia let out a gust of air. Then fought t
he urge to tug her dress to her knees and run back the way they came. Like it would do any good. With her luck, another group of ghouls would be out there waiting for her. No way she could go to a place like this and not be noticed for her scent. At least on the ghoul front.
“What do you see?” Pike asked.
Breathe! she admonished. This was all about training her to be better prepared. Training her to live in her new-ish state. She needed to be hyper-vigilant.
“I see a bunch of people dancing. Even more drinking.”
“You are the worst psychic ever. What else?”
She reached out with whatever mystical powers she possessed and came up against a thick steel wall. “I’m sorry. I don’t see anything.”
“Anyone?”
“No, nothing.” The way he stared at her, it was obvious he was disappointed. “Will you just tell me what I’m supposed to look for?”
As though sensing her mood, Pike took her hand. He didn’t let it show if her answer ticked him off. “Let’s have a drink.”
“A drink?”
“Yes, you know, those things people consume when they want to have fun and enjoy each other’s company. Surely you’ve heard of them.”
Her response came out as a stutter. The man of her dreams asking her to have a drink in a bar. All while she was wearing a dress that would look more fitting on a pre-teen from the Hamptons.
He led her to a stool and pulled it out for her. Lavinia gratefully sank down. “Thanks.”
Pike gestured toward the bartender. Ten minutes later, two beers found their way into waiting hands. “Now,” he began, “I want you to turn around. Tell me what you see with your other four senses.” Instead of sitting next to her, he kept his back to the bar and leaned on an elbow, making sure he faced the crowd on the floor.
“What am I looking for this time?” Lavinia kept the glass clenched tightly between her hands and sipped.
“You tell me. Whatever happened to you affected your cells. Your soul. It seems to attract some creatures more than others. Though frankly, you do carry a certain…pungent…aroma.” At her wide eyes, he continued smoothly, “Not that it’s a bad thing. A tad inconvenient at times, but not bad. Intriguing, mainly. You need to learn how to defend yourself. This means you need to read the signs. The signals. Sight, Smell, you name it.”
“Yeah, I realize. We’ve been talking about it for weeks. Years, if we go back to the first night we met. You don’t need to tell me how ill-equipped I am, or wonder how I’ve managed to stay alive this long. It’s called being skilled at hiding.”
“Be that as it may, it’s beyond time you learned,” he said. “I want you to dance.”
She choked on her beer. “You want to dance with me?”
“Yes.”
“Does this pertain to you and what you are?”
His answer was a chuckle. “No. I don’t plan to tell you what I am. I just want a dance.”
“I thought you wanted a drink.”
“Stubborn wench.”
Either the beer was going to her head, or Pike’s nearness was starting to get to her. She wouldn’t admit it to him, and even knowing the future, she wouldn’t trade a second of their time together. What was life without the risk? She thought about it when he led her onto the dance floor. When his arms wrapped around her waist and she had to fight off a round of giggles like a girl at her first school dance. One dance turned into two, turned into three, and another. Another.
Soon Lavinia no longer noticed the smoke curling in the air. The press of bodies around them. She noticed nothing except the man pressing his thighs against hers. His nose to the top of her head when he breathed her in. The clench of his fingertips on her waist for a split second before they released their hold.
Did anyone else see them together? Did they question the strange tableau Pike and Lavinia made together? They had to, she thought. He was out of her league by a good mile and a half. Maybe more. She was just a shop clerk from Black Mountain who happened to be at the right place at the right time. Or the wrong place at the wrong time, depending on how she looked at it.
Pike was different. She was not.
Her head spun to the clouds and she let loose a whoop of excitement. These were her people now. People like her, outside the normal spectrum. Could it be she was actually enjoying herself?
God, it had been a long time. She lifted her hands in the air and twirled, seeing Pike’s smile flash by with each rotation. It had been a long time since she’d been happy on her own terms. When she’d read from the spell book that changed her life, any ability for an ordinary adulthood was taken away. Buying a home in the suburbs or moving somewhere fantastical with her husband and two kids…those things weren’t in the cards. Even if she could find a mate among her kind—whatever her kind was—it wouldn’t be the same. They would be immortal together, and with the expanded timeline of her life came certain expectations.
She’d gotten a look behind the curtain. There was no going back.
Hands curled around her shoulders and drew her close. Head thrown back, eyes closed, she leaned forward. Heat enveloped her in a warm cocoon. Safety, desire. A tingle of lust bursting to life below her belly button.
Yes. Yes. Yes! The word played on repeat in her head. This was right. Perfect. The sensation of skin against skin was heady and powerful.
Lavinia didn’t realize the fuzzy feeling in her abdomen was rising higher and higher until the rest of her body felt the same. She twirled around and around. Ignoring the hands on her body. The press of another midsection against hers and lips on her neck. She ignored the push on her rear sending her toward the door. The apex between her thighs tingled. Moisture pooled. She would have walked off the side of a tall building and done it happily when Pike grabbed her wrist.
His eyes were hard. “Enough.” He pronounced each syllable carefully, the better for her to understand the words he spoke. “Lavinia. Enough.”
His edges softened until she saw him through a nimbus of smoke.
A gentle tug in the opposite direction had her swiveling and smiling. Warmth returned to her chest and her feet moved.
“I said enough,” Pike commanded.
It was like the burst of a fired gun resounding next to her ear. Reality returned in a flood of sound and light. Lavinia inhaled, the heat within her replaced with an empty chill. She focused on Pike, the feel of his fingers, the sheer magnitude of his closeness. Her skin pebbled. Then she turned to the left, toward the magnetic presence she’d almost let draw her away—a blond-haired woman laughing in a seductive manner, crooking her finger in a beckoning gesture.
“We’re leaving,” Pike muttered, strengthening his hold. Despite the noise in the club, Lavinia heard everything he said, her gaze still drawn toward the glamorous woman in latex. Wondering at the pull she’d felt deep inside of her.
The desire persisted until Lavinia actually tugged back in resistance. Her heels ground into the dance floor as she made her stand. Her response was faint and shaking. “I don’t want to.”
“And you don’t have to,” the strange woman purred. “Come with me, sweet one. Sweet little one.” She slithered forward and tugged at the straps of Lavinia’s dress, causing the material to shift and slide, exposing her shoulders. “Come with me and taste pleasures you’ve never imagined.”
When Lavinia turned back to Pike, he was standing like a statue. Looking at her. Moreover, to her bewilderment, she saw nothing but choler staring back at her. Turning his eyes charcoal black. The other woman must have seen it too. There was a ripple of movement as both she and Lavinia took a step in the opposite direction.
It was hard not to show fear. It was an instinctual response to the monsters reflected on his face. Lurking right beneath the surface.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, voice trembling.
“Yes, love. Something is wrong. You failed yet again.”
CHAPTER 4
“Lavinia!” he yelled. If he expected an answer, he was mista
ken.
It figured. The second they were outside the door—in the time it took Pike to adjust the collar on his coat to block the wind—she was gone. He growled out a curse better left unvoiced and scanned the crowd. There was no sign of her. Nothing. Not even a trace of her scent, and that was usually enough to track her. Fucking wind.
Fucking succubus. He should have known better than to push Lavinia so far so fast. She could hardly handle the little karakondzula. Those creatures were once used to teach children in his village how to deal with the supernatural. Tiny children of no more than five who had little more than a rudimentary understanding of the world around them. Of course, he was recalling a forgotten time. A forgotten people that didn’t exist outside of his memories.
Yet Lavinia couldn’t even handle the tiny night spirit. A simple incantation would have sent the creature into a coma-like stupor for the better part of the day. It was a much better alternative than bribing it with gum and candy. What kind of woman carried around half-melted gum in her pockets? A certain Miss Cutler, that’s who.
Why hadn’t that first shock been enough to jolt her into a vision of the future? He’d seen it work with psychics before. Those who hadn’t yet come into their powers. Was the very essence of what made Lavinia exceptional hindering her magic? He’d give good money to know.
Pike tried to be calm even when alarm skipped through his bloodstream in an electric sizzle. She couldn’t have gotten far. Not in those skyscrapers she’d called shoes. It was the first time he’d lost her—physically lost her—and he vowed it would be the last. If he were going to become her teacher, her mentor, then she needed to stick around and not run off in a huff every time she did something wrong and he reprimanded.
“Lavinia, this isn’t funny,” he called.
The comment was lost in the melee of music and crowd. Pike hitched his collar higher and chose a direction at random. He ignored the group of people he pushed aside in doing so. He scanned the shops as he walked by, hoping she’d walked into one of the late-night pharmacies for something. Anything. Then urged his feet faster when he saw nothing.