D just laughed, the noise muted compared to the music pumping through the speakers placed strategically across the dance floor. The pulsating beat thumped, the sea of dancers thrusting to the rhythm, sweat a glossy sheen across their bodies.
“Wow.” Alice blinked, blinded by the flashing lights. “It’s smaller than I imagined.”
The room was perfectly square, walls raw, scrapes marking the concrete showing the history of the warehouse. Metal beams lined the ceiling, a string of multicoloured spotlights strung across them. A metal cage hung from the same beams, strategically placed right above the dance floor, holding an almost naked woman dancing provocatively around a pole. To the left was a bar, the entire length of the room with a seating area opposite.
“This way.” D grabbed her hand, squeezing his palm against hers as he manoeuvred them through the dancers towards the lounge.
He pushed her into a seat. “What are you doing?” she scolded as she scooted further into the booth.
“We’re on a date.” He looked genuinely confused.
“This is work.” She batted at his hand as he attempted to caress her face.
“Femme stupide. We’re here to attract a man? Non? Then we need to make him see you, make him...” He seemed to struggle with his words. “Jaloux. Oui, jealous. He needs to see you above all the other women. You understand?”
“I think so?” Nope. Not at all.
“Oh non. Do you know nothing of shifter men? They want what they can’t have. Look around the room Alice, what do you see?”
She humoured him, not really understanding. “I don’t get it.”
“Look at the men, staring hungrily into the throngs of dancers. Staring at women already taken.” His eyes flashed in challenge as he leaned down, laying a soft kiss against her throat, just above her pulse. She froze, unsure how to react.
“A drink Mr Knight?” A waitress interrupted, her hair teased into the same twin peaks as the receptionist. Alice broke the contact, shimmying over in the booth to create a barrier of air between them, giving her time to breathe, to think.
The waitress noticed the move, her lips tilting up into a sensual smile. She flashed her neck, making sure he saw her scars. The blood kiss was an addiction, people doing anything to get their next fix of the euphoria a vampire bite could give. They didn’t seem to understand the predator they had at their throats, the ecstasy they felt was a pheromone the fangs secreted into tricking their prey into feeling pleasure, not pain as they drain your lifeblood. Poetic really.
The waitress bent to put the bottle of champagne into the icebox, making sure her short skirt became even shorter.
“Would you like anything else, sir?” she said, arousal heavy in her eyes.
“That would be all,” he dismissed, his eyes hard as he looked at Alice. Pouting, the waitress walked away, adding an extra sway to her hips. “Now where were we?”
D reached for the bottle, pouring two glasses before setting it back down.
“The most basic instinct is desire, we need these men in the room to desire you. To notice you. If this man you are after is here, he must pick you above the rest.”
“What has you kissing me got to do with anything?”
“Trust me…” Gently grabbing her face he leaned down to press a soft kiss.
When she didn’t move, he added a slight pressure, licking gently along the seam of her lips.
“Let me in.” His lips were talented as he kissed her again, enticing her into joining in. A subtle movement of her jaw and he groaned, rewarding her with another lick.
She kissed him back, their tongues fighting for dominance. She started to enjoy herself, teasing him with quick movements of her tongue. Feeling brave she wrapped her hands in his hair, angling his face for a better...
Blood on her tongue, her gasp breaking the contact.
“Mon ami, you can ask me to be your spotter anytime,” he grinned, showing fangs tipped in red.
Alice stared at his lips, deciding whether to kiss him again. The feeling quickly passed. D wasn’t her type. Neither was the Alpha, yet she wished it was him she had been kissing.
Bloody hell. She really needed to get laid.
D’s eyes glittered as he looked at her, his gaze drifting as something behind caught his attention. “Ah, the kiss worked.”
Subtly, Alice looked over her shoulder, quickly surveying the eyes staring at their little corner in the lounge. “You were right.” Picking up her glass she downed the rest of her champagne, not wanting the good stuff to go to waste.
“Of course, like I would trick you into a kiss without having a plan.” A dark chuckle. “I’m just waiting for you to confess your undying love.”
“You’re funny.”
“Oui, oui,” he dramatically sighed. “My heart bleeds.”
“I’m sure one of the waitresses could help with that.”
“C'était méchant. Go look tempting elsewhere. I have women to talk to.”
She leaned in close, whispering in his ear. “Remember the picture, he has black spiky hair.” She made it look as sensual as she could, feeling eyes prickle across her skin. With those words she stood up from the table, feeling him watch her as she made her way across the room towards the bar.
Fighting her way along the dance floor she sat on an empty stool at the end, swinging so she could see along the long length. Hundreds of coloured bottles lined the shelving stacked against the wall, all lit up with a spotlight. A huge floor-to-ceiling mirror stood behind the bottles, dancers replicated onto the surface.
She watched the dancers spin around, dancers who were lost to the music, eyes closed and drinks held high up the air as they swung their hips.
She scanned their faces, trying to find anyone who matched the photograph.
“Now what I find peculiar…” Alice spun her stool, trying to hide her disappointment at the blonde standing behind her. “Is what are you doing with a Vamp?” The man smiled, a sensual curve of his lip as his eyes fell to her cleavage. He flared his chi, a greeting, a test among witches to see who was more powerful. The sensation an electric current across her flesh.
Alice concentrated on not flaring her own chi, something that was almost instinct when greeting another witch. She didn’t want to encourage him, or gain any more unwanted attention from the wrong man.
“Not interested,” she said, turning away.
A hand came down on her shoulder, spinning her back. “What? Your own Breed not good enough then?” He sat beside her, seemingly unaware of her disinterest. “You want to stay with fang-face?” He nodded towards the lounge. “I’m pretty sure he’s busy.”
Alice couldn’t help but look, spotting D in the same booth she had kissed him in earlier, but this time he was joined by two other women.
“He’s an adult.” An adult who was supposed to be paying attention.
“You need a real man.” He gripped her chin in his free hand, forcing her to look at him. “Someone who can show you a real good time.” He flicked his hair, the dark blond razor cut at the sides.
“I said I’m not interested.” She added an extra bit of bite to her words, breaking his hold.
“Is this gentleman bothering you?” A large hand came down on the blonde’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
“Fuck off man, I saw her first,” the witch sneered.
The new stranger leant forward. “She says she isn’t interested. So fuck off.” The blonde witch paled.
The stranger turned to look at her, his eyes dark, the iris covering most his eye, leaving barely any white.
Holy crap.
“Has he offended you?” His dark eyebrows came low on his face, the same shade on his head, hair spiked up with gel in every direction possible.
She appraised him quickly before smiling, making sure to bite her lip seductively. Well, as seductively as she could manage. “He was just leaving.”
“No, I fucking wasn’t,” the blonde witch scowled. “I wanted to buy you a drink.”
Alice hesitated, her instinct and training telling her to follow them, but her brain telling her to wait. Shit.
She couldn’t break cover.
Cursing under her breath she turned to the lounge, the booth now completely empty. “Great.” She scanned the crowd, looking for Danton. “Dammit.” Inside her clutch she grabbed her phone, sending a quick text instead.
A drink was plopped in front of her, a pink sparkly concoction with a long straw and an orange paper umbrella. She jumped as it cracked against the bar, her attention elsewhere.
“See, I said I would be back.” The dark haired stranger gently pushed the glass of pink liquid toward her, his knuckles red and scraped.
“Is that other guy okay?” she asked, staring at his hand as she ignored the drink.
“He’s fine. Just dandy.”
He started rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, the hair on his arms black and baby fine. Thick veins pulsated beneath his skin, like snakes stretching beneath the flesh.
“I bought you the drink to apologise for how you were treated.”
“I appreciate it,” Alice said as he grinned. “But I don’t accept drinks from strangers.”
“If you don’t want it, I’m sure I can find someone else,” he sniffed before he clutched the glass.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She needed to keep his attention.
“What’s your name?” she asked quickly. “If I know your name, then we’re not strangers.”
“Name’s Tomlin, but you can call me Tom. What’s yours?” His hand fanned out, his nails a sickly blue as if blood struggled to get to the fingertips.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge. “Leela.” Her palm touched his outstretched hand, the skin ice cold.
“Nice to meet you.” His eyes watched her, like onyx. The look similar to a vampire close to bloodlust, yet, Alice knew he wasn’t a vampire. She didn’t even get a shifter vibe from him.
Could Rex have gotten his Breed wrong?
Trying not to stare she sucked the straw between her lips, groaning as a small amount of the summer berries hit her tongue, the alcohol burning deliciously down her throat. She was careful only to sip, conscious that she didn’t order it herself.
The music renewed, a dance anthem pulsating through the speakers. The crowd continued to dance, all the bodies thrusting and swaying in tempo with the music.
“Hey, this is really good,” she shouted at him over the music.
“Of course it is,” he smiled, showing a row of sharper than usual teeth.
Alice tried to keep her shudder to herself. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for some shifters to file their teeth, but it was creepy.
“So, you come here often?” He leaned in close, his breath just as cold as his skin against her cheek.
“My first time.” She tried to lean away, using her drink as an excuse as she sipped, the alcohol helping against his intense cold. “I’m from out of town.”
“You here alone?” He watched her throat swallow, his leg vibrating, fidgeting.
“I’m actually here with someone, but he seems to be more interested in other women than me.” Alice stuck her bottom lip out, feigning disappointment. “Good thing you’re here to keep me company.”
He encouraged her to swallow faster. “Drink up, I want to dance.”
“I can’t dance,” she said around the straw. She lazily sucked up the last of the liquid, her head spinning before she blinked the blurriness away.
Why was she here again? Oh yeah. She needed to ask him questions, or get him into a more private area. “Do you want to…?”
He grabbed her hand before she finished the question, pulling her towards the dance floor.
She felt herself drifting, not able to feel her legs.
“You can dance with me.”
Alice didn’t feel the hem of her dress rise before his cold hands touched her bare skin, fingers kneading into the flesh as he pulled her flush against his chest. Hands tight, he matched their movements to the heavy beat of the music.
“See, you can dance.” He twirled her around so her back was now to his chest, his hands coming up to hold her waist.
“I feel sick.” She fought the sudden nausea. She had only taken a few sips, why was she nauseous?
“Don’t be silly.” He continued to move them, his hands exploring her body through her thin dress. Pulling free she turned around, clutching her head as his face blurred.
“Leela, come here.” He grabbed her arm, the pain sharp as his nails dug in.
Who the fuck is Leela?
“Ow.” She pushed out, barely moving him.
“ALICE!” A voice called through the crowd. Lights flashed as she tried to look for the source, her head groggy.
Hands grabbed her, yanking her away from the dance floor as she was pushed through the crowd.
“ALICE...MERDE. MOVE OUT THE WAY!” That voice again, yelling.
Alice felt herself fall to her knees, the music pounding in her head as she tried not to be sick. She was suddenly lifted, her stomach pressed against something hard as she felt fresh air against her skin, the stench of rotten food assaulting her nose a moment later.
“Put me down.” She tried to wiggle free, the movement painfully slow. “I’m going to be sick.” She was roughly settled onto her feet. “Oh my god.” She closed her eyes, the cold air amazing against her fevered skin.
“I thought we could speak more privately out here.” A cage of arms surrounded her, pushing her against the brick wall.
Concentrating, she looked at her surroundings, trying desperately to figure out where she was through the haze. Huge dustbins lined the brick walls on both sides, each one under a streetlamp. A cat hissed, eyes reflective as it scuttled away.
“Where are we?” Her breathing became laboured as she felt exhaustion taking over, her heart beating faster than usual.
She had to think fast.
Hand stiff she released a blade, the familiar weight settling into her palm.
Tom leaned forward, not noticing her knife as his lips began assaulting hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth. A hand wrapped around her neck, slamming her head against the brick wall hard enough she saw stars. His eyes were wide, watching her as his pupils narrowed to slits, like a snake.
Disorientated, Alice struggled against him, exciting him further as his lips travelled down the side of her neck.
“Ever heard of the word no?” The words came out slurred, her tongue thick in her mouth. Slowly she brought up the knife, the blade sharp enough to sear into his chest with little effort.
“FUCK!” He leapt back, snarling with his sharp teeth. Lifting a hand he backhanded her, causing her to collapse almost unconscious against the wall. “You’ll pay for that,” he growled, pulling the blade out of his chest as if it was nothing.
Using the knife, he bent down to cut the straps off her dress, the black material sagging against her skin. Hands gripped in the material, he lifted and pushed her face first against the wall.
“Stop struggling.” He settled his weight, her legs pinned with his own.
Something warm against her neck, a tongue lapping across her flesh. His hands ripped more of the fabric, searching beneath under her skirt.
“Fuck me. How many knives do you have?” he growled, chest vibrating. Her head was wretched to the side, held at an angle as he wrapped her blonde strands around his fist.
“Stop,” Alice whispered, legs heavy as a sharp pain sliced into her neck. Heat poured from her throat, dripping down her back.
Tom groaned, his teeth tearing through her flesh much like her knife did his chest.
Abruptly, Alice collapsed, Tom’s body no longer there to keep her up. Her knees screamed in shock as they connected with the stone floor, the pain dull and throbbing in time with her p
ulse. Groggily, Alice leant onto her hands, her head hanging low as she struggled to stay awake, arms shaking violently at the weight.
Something burned against her neck, the pain intense as it ripped through the numbness that threatened to take over her body.
A familiar voice, the words incoherent as the world went dark.
“Mum?” she called once more, her voice wobbling. Bear clutched tight to her chest, she walked further down the staircase, her bare feet cold against the hard wood.
Another crash. The lights flicker ahead before turning off, covering her in complete darkness.
“Kyle if that’s you, it’s not funny.”
Still no response.
Padding down the hallway she pushed the kitchen door, soft light flickering beneath the frame.
“Mummy?” Her voice wet, close to tears. Door heavy, she pushed it harder. “Daddy?” She stepped forward, the light from the window creating a weird glow across the floor, like it was shiny.
A growl vibrated through the air behind her.
In a panic she ran further into the kitchen, her ankle twisting as she slipped on something wet. “Ahhhh,” she cried, using her hand to help her sit up before slipping back into the warm liquid.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
She lifted her hand, the dark substance drizzling down her wrist to her elbow in a hot stream. Holding her breath, she listened, not hearing anything in the room with her.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Tears left a warm trail down her face. “Mummy?” she whispered.
Something walked down the hallway.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Scrambling against the tiles she tore open a cupboard, squeezing her body into the small space, pushing the bottles of bleach and detergent out the way.
Door shut, she placed her hand over her mouth, the warm liquid tasting coppery against her lips. Blood pumped in her ears, making it hard to concentrate on any sounds outside as darkness surrounded her.
Chapter 8
Alice jumped awake, a scream caught in her throat, the nightmare fading as her head ached, a rhythmic pounding inside her temple. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the dream, visualising a shadow standing over her, the face obscured by darkness.
Witch's Sorrow: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye Series Book 1) Page 7