"Will you return to Scotland?"
He shook his head. "I canna lie, I do miss the Highlands. They're in my heart and soul, they're the blood in my veins, but I won't return, not for a long time. Lily stepped in as historian and she's taken over the records." He grinned. "She's even talked of computerizing them." His smile faded. "For now, I only have to live from day to day. As she told me before I left, the only responsibility I have is to breathe, everything else is incidental."
"Sounds like good advice."
Sinjin's gaze turned sharp as a stunning brunette swayed up to the bar. Barely contained in a miniscule burgundy dress, she gave Alexandre a sleepy smile before she leaned into the polished wood, her breasts threatening to spill from her straining bodice. Her gaze latched onto Sinjin and she licked her lips as she set her glass down.
"Shug, can I have another?"
Her accent was pure southern honey and her body, judging from the luscious curves outlined by her skimpy dress, would be illegal in a few states. She climbed onto the barstool next to Alexandre, allowing one leg to dangle off the edge. Her skirt rode high, showing off her perfectly shaped thighs.
"My pleasure." Sinjin refilled her glass with a yellow liquid and several shots of amaretto before setting it on the bar before her.
"Well, it certainly could be." Her voice dropped. "Your pleasure, that is."
A slow smile touched Sinjin's mouth as she leaned forward to retrieve her drink, a totally unnecessary movement as the glass was mere inches away. Their gazes locked as she took a tiny sip of her drink. She gave a delicate shudder then set it down; a soft pout curved her mouth.
"It isn't very sweet," she breathed. "Can you make it...sweeter?"
Alexandre fought the urge to snort with laughter. Human women were so obvious.
Sinjin leaned forward, his mouth mere inches from hers, his eyes heavy. "I think I can do that."
"I was hoping you could." She pressed closer, missing his mouth by centimeters as he picked up the glass and turned away to fix her drink.
She sighed and leaned back. Her dark eyes fixed on Sinjin's back as she licked her lips once more. Alexandre could smell her arousal, the scent musky on her skin. For a split second he found himself thinking about another woman, a petite blonde who preferred the scent of citrus and loose, flowing clothing.
"Try this one." Sinjin returned with the glass. "I think you'll like this much better."
"Oh, I'm sure I will." She leaned over the bar and this time her destination wasn't the drink. Red-tipped fingers curled around the placket of Sinjin's shirt and she pulled him toward her.
"Hey now." He juggled the drink, setting it down and spilling a few drops on the gleaming oak.
The woman fastened her lips on his and kissed him for all she was worth. Mouth open, she ate at him as if she were starving. For his part, Sinjin didn't look too abashed as he returned as good as he got.
From a table behind them came shouts of delight from the ladies gathered around it.
"You GO, girl, show him how it's done."
"Eat him alive, Moni."
"He's so gorgeous."
"I'm next."
"Warm him up for me, darlin'."
Alexandre had always found public displays of affection unnerving, which was a contradiction since he lived in New Orleans, a city known for its vices. This wasn't to say that he didn't indulge from time to time, just not in a public arena. He turned away from Sinjin and his new friend to scan the interior of the club.
The area nearest the bar was occupied with small tables filled with people clustered around them. Candles flickered in small colorful votives as cocktail glasses vied for space. Several barmaids navigated the crowded room with ease as they delivered drinks and emptied ashtrays.
At the far end of the room was the stage upon which a light-skinned black woman was belting out the classic song, "Summertime," throwing her body and soul into the piece. In front of her was a large dance floor filled with people grinding to the sensual heat of the ballad. Surrounding the dance floor was a large number of small tables like the ones near the bar.
Moni bumped into Alexandre, her gaze still locked with Sinjin's as she slid from the stool. Her lips were ripe from their heated kiss as she retrieved her drink, her eyes throwing promises she hoped Sinjin would accept. A saucy smile curved her mouth as she turned to sashay back to her table.
"It's a tough job." Alexandre turned to his friend. "Think you can handle it?"
"Why, are ye volunteering to give me a hand?"
Alexandre shot a glance at the woman, his gaze lingering on her well-rounded backside. "Tempting." He looked back at Sinjin. "But I don't think so."
"She grabbed me, not the other way around."
"I didn't see you trying to fight her off."
"Man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Sinjin shrugged and picked up the towel.
"You're right about that."
"Can I get ye a dram? You're looking a bit peaked."
"You have something?"
"Of course. This is a hot spot among preternaturals and I have something for everyone's palate, even the most discerning." Sinjin grinned. "And I have something I think ye could use right now."
He tossed the towel on the bar before turning away. Withdrawing a small silver key from his pocket, he unlocked a small cabinet to reveal a black thermal carafe sitting on a coffee warmer. He withdrew the carafe as he picked up a small black glass the size of an espresso cup, minus the handle. He poured a small amount of liquid into the glass before carefully locking the carafe back in its niche. Turning, he set the glass in front of Alexandre.
"What is it?"
"Something ye need, my friend." With that he moved down the bar to refill another patron's drink.
Alexandre picked up the glass and took a tentative sniff. It was blood, the warmth of the liquid radiating through the china to caress his hand. He sniffed again; it lacked the hot tang of fresh blood. He peered into the glass. This blood was darker, almost aged like that of a shapeshifter...werewolf to be exact.
He sat back, stunned. Where had Sinjin procured wereblood? Most wolves eschewed allowing themselves to be used as dinner for a vampire. In the last two hundred years, they'd become so standoffish that they were rarely seen in the company of another preternatural, certainly not a vampire.
He inhaled once more, this time detecting another, fainter scent, like that of a flower he couldn't quite put his finger on. He closed his eyes as his senses sprang into full alert. If he were human, his mouth would be watering. It had been hundreds of years since he'd last tasted the coveted blood of a werewolf.
As the singer swung into a rousing rendition of "Mack The Knife," he opened his eyes and took a tentative sip. The taste rolled across his tongue, not unlike the bite of fine whiskey. He swallowed, resisting the urge to cough. It was warm, spicy, almost sensual in flavor and he wanted more.
As he took another sip, the rush that accompanied a feeding raced through his body, his senses sharpening as his flesh warmed. Even without looking, he knew he was losing the pale cast to his skin as the blood worked its dark magic.
He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of embracing his darker self. The transformation was unlike any other feeling on earth, not terribly unlike the physical release of sex. Then again, food and sex were akin to one another in the human psyche. Humans couldn't survive without a balance of both. Neither could vampires. Not for long anyway.
Except for him.
His background had taught him to live without physical intimacy and he'd done quite easily for many, many years. Being well versed in the treachery of the gentler sex, he had no intentions of ever going there again.
He smothered a mirthless laugh as he took another sip of blood. This one went down smooth, seducing him with its warmth. He opened his eyes and stared into the glass of dark liquid.
Oh, there'd been women in his life, quite a few actually. Most of them had been nameless, faceless creatures who erased the edge when
he'd been most vulnerable to their charms. But it was during this time that he'd made one of his gravest mistakes and lives had been lost. Thanks to his weakness for the sins of the flesh and the treachery of a woman.
There'd been other women after her, but not for many years. His affairs were emotionless relationships that were physical only. Of course, his women had to have the necessary intellectual element. A woman must be a good conversationalist in order to interest him at all.
Then there'd been Cass.
He took another drink, enjoying the now-familiar rush that swept through him as the liquid did its work. Cass had been an excellent conversationalist and she'd had the type of mind he admired.
Intelligent, quick and emotionless.
Then she'd shown him her other side, the side of her that had attempted to overthrow the Council. Hell, if she'd wanted the head position, why hadn't she asked? Who knows? He might have given it to her without a fight.
No you wouldn't.
He snorted.
The music changed to a soulful rendition of "Unforgettable." He shut his eyes, losing himself in the lusty tone of the singer and the distinctly sensual feel of the blood pumping through his veins. Immersing himself in the notes, the noise of the mortals around him faded to a faint roar as he drifted with the music.
"Care for another?"
His eyes flew open to find Sinjin smiling at him with a knowing look.
"I think-" He glanced down into the glass, surprised to see it empty. How had that happened?
"Coming right up." Sinjin whisked the glass away from and returned within moments with the refill.
"Thanks."
"I think ye might want to turn around and watch the stage for this next number." Sinjin nodded toward the far end of the room. "I have a feeling this might interest ye."
Alexandre turned his chair as the singer removed the microphone from the stand. "I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine who's going to sing a very special song for us this evening. Let's give a warm hand to my dear friend, Sunni."
The audience applauded and took to their seats as the pianist swung into the beginning notes of "Peel Me A Grape."
His stomach dropped as she stepped into the spotlight, a shy smile on her face. Her pale pink top skimmed her slender curves and left her shoulders bare. This time, the long skirt was gone, replaced with a short black number that showed far too much leg. His gaze skimmed her well- toned limbs. Who would have thought such a small woman would have such spectacular legs?
She threw herself into the song, her movements sensual, her voice throaty and full of promise. Moving from the stage, she wound her way through the tables as she seduced her enthralled audience with her voice, a beguiling mix of innocence and sauciness. They sat spellbound as she walked from one to another, stopping for a few moments to play with a select individual, making them want her as she sang. More than one man reached before she flitted away, off to make the next man crazy with her soft smile and sultry lyrics.
Damn, is this woman trying to drive me crazy?
Arousal rose hot and thick as he watched her weave a spell over the audience. Even the women were enthralled. He cleared his throat. She was lovely and, in that moment, he wanted her as he'd never wanted another woman in his life. He shifted, trying to relieve an ache of unfulfilled lust as his sudden arousal strained against his zipper.
Damn, what's wrong with me?
He picked up the glass and downed the rest of its contents, watching Sunni as she continued weaving her sensual tapestry. He set the glass down and slid off the stool as she seated herself in an eager young man's lap. The man's arms came to rest around her waist as she sang, her fingers running through his blond hair, standing it on end. A surge of jealousy rushed through Alexandre, leaving him seeing red, literally.
"Whoa there."
Someone grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Alexandre glared at Sinjin, who grinned at him. He gave the bartender a pointed look in the eye before dropping his gaze to his restraining grip.
"Do ye mind?" he said.
"Don't think you should until she's done."
"Do you see what she's doing?"
"I've seen her do it a hundred times. She's verra talented, isn't she?"
"She does this a lot?"
"All the time. The customers love her."
Alexandre looked in time to see Sunni press a kiss to the man's forehead as she rose from his lap.
"We'll see about that."
* * *
Chapter 5
The applause was thunderous as she performed a low curtsey, which Sunni had practiced for hours at home to ensure she didn't land on the stage in an undignified heap. Cheeks flushed with pleasure, she rose and tossed the microphone to the returning singer.
Helene gave her a thumbs-up. "You need to do this more often," she shouted over the din.
"I think I will."
She jumped off the stage and turned to wave her thanks to the band. Framed in soft blue lights, they broke into a sexy rendition of "At Last" with Helene at the helm.
Tipping her head back, Sunni gave in to the joy in her heart as a laugh broke from her mouth. She loved performing before an appreciative crowd. All her life, she'd loved to sing. Only in the past few months had she dared to brave the spotlights at the Chat Noir. She didn't have the opportunity to perform very often, but when she did, she embraced every minute of it.
She turned to exit the dance floor and bumped into someone, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Tipping her head back, she met Alexandre's dark gaze and noted at once that he didn't look happy. Her heart gave a queer little jerk. Remembering their last conversation, she wasn't terribly happy to see him either.
"Excuse me." She made to move around him.
He stopped her by grabbing her wrist. "No."
She gave an experimental tug, but his grip was unyielding. "Let go of me."
"You're coming with me."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
She tugged harder this time, but he refused to release her. Instead, he hauled her toward the edge of the dance floor, people jostling them with every step.
What the hell does he think he's doing?
He pulled her off to the side and they wound their way through tables to a darkened corner. He stopped when he saw that a couple already occupied the secluded spot he'd been aiming for. She heard him mutter something under his breath.
"Do you know where you're going?" she asked sweetly.
"No."
"I can tell."
She caught sight of an uncharacteristic scowl as he turned and pulled her in the direction of the bathrooms. The doorway was discretely hidden behind a row of potted palms around which was clustered a small group of women. As soon as he spied the obvious line for the ladies room, Alexandre headed for the men's room.
Sunni balked as he shoved the door open. "Oh no, I'm not going in there." She braced her feet and tried to free her arm.
He gave a not-so-gentle tug, propelling her through the doorway. "Yes, you are." He stepped to the side as she swung past, then slammed the door before releasing her.
"Hey!" She spun around and put her hands on her hips. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Funny, I was going to ask you the same question." He crossed his arms over his chest.
"What are you talking about?"
"Out there." He jerked his head to indicate the main room. "What did you think you were doing out there?"
"Singing?"
"Is that what you call it when you parade around like some harlot?" The volume of his voice increased with each word. "Sitting in a stranger's lap is not singing. It's flirting. No, it's worse than that. It's...It's...immoral."
"W-w-what? And who do you think you are to question what I do? Who gave you the right to judge me?"
"I'm the head of the Council and I have every right-"
"You're demented."
"I'm what?"
"The Council has no right to
govern our day-to-day lives." She approached him. "Besides, you've said it before, you're the head of nothing right now. The Council now consists of you and Fayne, and you two can't enforce anything at this point."
"Val has joined the Council."
She blinked then scowled. "Quit changing the subject." She jabbed him in the chest with her finger as she spoke. "You certainly can't tell me what to do, especially not about my personal life."
She moved to step around him when he thwarted her by leaning against the door, blocking her way.
"We're not done."
"I have nothing more to say to you-"
She squeaked as he grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her into his arms. A shiver ran down her spine as her breasts were crushed against his chest. The warmth of his skin invaded hers; the scent of warm male and rain inundated her senses.
"Who said anything about talking?" he muttered as his head dipped close.
Oh, no... he's going to kiss me!
"You don't want to do this," she hissed, his mouth mere centimeters from hers.
"Like hell I don't."
His lips brushed hers and a shock of desire ripped through her body. Her fingers curled in his damp shirt, her gaze locked on his mouth.
"You have no right," she whispered. His breath mingled with hers and a strange lightheadedness swept over her. "You haven't asked my permission."
"I have every right. I'm the man who's about to become your lover."
She blinked. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me."
Well, I'll be damned...
Anger ignited in her chest, and she ground her teeth. He was a damned fool if he thought she'd fall into his arms after the way he'd treated her. She shoved against his chest. "You're out of your mind. What have you been drinking?"
His grip tightened. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
"What if I don't want to take you as my lover?" she snapped.
"What if I don't care what you want?"
"You'd force me?" she gaped at him. Something was definitely not right here. "What has gotten into you?"
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf?" His head dipped.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 5 Page 5