After Dark

by Gena Showalter

  She exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. There wasn’t any time to waste. A master vampire was waiting for her.

  She wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and entered the restaurant. The soft sounds of melodic piano music carried to her ears amidst the murmurs of the demure dining couples. The dim lighting hit her cocktail dress at the perfect angle, and the midnight-blue material glittered like the clear night sky.

  Her stomach growled as the smells of lobster bisque, freshly baked bread and fresh herbs filled her nose. For a college student who subsisted on a diet mainly made up PB&J sandwiches, microwave macaroni and cheese, and chicken-flavored ramen noodles, divine didn’t even begin to cover the nose-gasm she was having.

  A handsome restaurant host in a nicely pressed suit cleared his throat. “Are you meeting someone, miss?”

  She eyed the layout of the restaurant.

  Well, damn.

  The only entrance was the door she’d just come through, not even a single emergency exit visible. There had to be a way out, though. The law required it. She searched and saw the Emergency Exit sign right above the kitchen door. Inconvenient, but not worth abandoning the opportunity. Come hell or high water, Damon would figure out how to slip inside the building undetected if necessary.

  And where was Caius? She had just started to look for him when the host cleared his throat again. “Miss?”

  She snapped to attention. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m meeting Mr. Dermokai—”

  The name hadn’t even escaped her lips before the host’s eyes widened, and he swept his arm out in a welcoming gesture. “My apologies, madam. Right this way.” He hopped to as if someone had lit a fire under his ass and poured gasoline on it. She glided across the restaurant behind him. At least she hoped she was gliding. Heels were not her thing.

  Her heart beat hard as the host led her toward the far corner of the restaurant.

  Shit.

  Privacy was not what she wanted with Caius—at least, not at the moment. She had agreed to have dinner with him before he escorted her to a private location for feeding.

  Caius’s ill temper and inflated ego needed stroking, and removing himself from the public eye clashed with that deep-seated need. This was not his usual style. She hoped he hadn’t sensed something, wasn’t intending to change their plans, and she was unable to contact Damon to even give him a heads-up. She focused on the friction of the button strapped to the top of her thigh. She reminded herself that it was a weapon in its own right. All she had to do was hit it.

  The host led her to a secluded room, opened the door and ushered her inside.

  “Someone will be right with you,” the host said before closing the door behind her.

  Tiffany’s eyes locked with Caius’s, and a wide devious grin spread across his face. He was waiting for her at a table set for two, the only table in a room clearly intended to host multiple diners, even large private parties. A pure white cloth was draped across the table, and the lights from a tiered crystal chandelier reflected off the flawless marble flooring.

  She was a not-so-helpless romantic, but even if she’d been with someone she wanted to be with—she refused to think about the man whose name immediately came to mind—this was a little over the top. Then again, Caius came from an era of overindulgence.

  “Good evening.” He stood and gestured her forward. “Won’t you join me, Tiffany?”

  Her gut clenched. She hated the way her name rolled off his tongue with the slightest trace of an accent from thousands of years ago.

  She forced a grin across her face. “Gladly.”

  Crossing the room, she allowed Caius to pull her chair out for her. She slid onto the comfortable cushions, far from relaxed as he squeezed her shoulder and leaned in to speak. His hot breath brushed against her ear, and goose bumps covered her whole body. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  “You look good enough to eat,” he purred before he returned to his side of the table.

  How sweet: a bloodsucker who enjoyed toying with his food. She wanted to roll her eyes. As if I try to marinate myself to an edible state each day. The battle between the words that came from her mouth versus what she really thought commenced.

  She batted her eyelashes. “I’m glad you’re pleased, but I’m nothing compared to how you look. Dashing and handsome.” More like disgusting and vomit-worthy. “As always.”

  Caius soaked in the B.S. of her ego stroking as if it were the heat of a rose-scented hot tub on a freezing cold night. “I’m pleased you recognize that.”

  A moment of silence passed between them. An unreadable smile crossed Caius’s face. “Let’s eat. Shall we?”

  As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, and on Caius’s command a waiter entered with two menus in hand. He approached their table with a smile. “Good evening. My name is Joshua, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. May I interest you in something to drink? Perhaps a bottle from our wine list?” He glanced toward Tiffany. Ladies first.

  “I’ll just have some wat—”

  Caius interjected. “If you could bring two wineglasses and a bottle of Pétrus, it would be greatly appreciated.”

  The waiter nodded. “I’ll return in a moment to take your ord—”

  Eyes locked on Tiffany, Caius held up his hand. “I think we’re ready to order now.”

  Joshua paused midstride and returned to the table.

  Tiffany blinked. Control freak much? “I haven’t looked at the menu yet,” she said.

  Caius reached across the table and placed a hand over hers. “Trust me. You’ll love this.” Releasing her hand, he unfolded his napkin as he spoke. “We’ll have a starter of spinach and sea-urchin ravioli in a white-wine reggiano broth, and chèvre-stuffed smoked dates wrapped in prosciutto with aged balsamic saba on a bed of arugula. For our meal we’ll have fresh herb-crusted Kobe filet mignon, cooked rare, and Maine crab cakes with a micro-green and lobster remoulade served on a plate of pure pink Himalayan sea salt, and the apricot crème brûlée for dessert.”

  Joshua’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as he scrambled to write down every detail of the order. Scribbling on his notepad, he nodded vigorously. “Right away, sir.” He rushed out of the room to fill their order.

  Tiffany removed her napkin from the table and unfolded it across her lap. “You really know how to order your food. Very specific.”

  Caius ran his fingers through his golden-blond hair. If she hadn’t known he was a vampire and a major douchebag to boot, maybe she could have found him handsome—at least before she’d met a certain dark-haired vampire hunter.

  “I make it a habit to eat nothing but the finest foods.” He grinned. “You only live once.”

  Tiffany swallowed hard and fought not to clench her hands into fists, ready to protect herself. Was that statement intended to be as threatening as she thought? She returned his smile. “I suppose that’s true.”

  Joshua returned with a bottle of wine, opened it tableside and gave Caius a sip to taste, then poured the red liquid into two sparkling glasses. “Your appetizers will be out shortly.” He removed the extra plates from the table before exiting.

  Tiffany sipped her glass of Bordeaux. The wine slid down her throat, already warming her cheeks. “Very nice. It has quite a complex flavor to it.”

  Caius smiled and sipped from his own glass. “Let’s get to the point, shall we? We both know what we’re here to discuss.”

  She nearly spat the wine back into the glass. Shit. This was happening much more quickly than she’d expected.

  He inhaled deeply. “I can tell by your scent that you’ll be a perfect Host. My main Feed.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, and she prayed his fangs stayed in place. Leaning back in his seat, he fixed his ice-cold stare on her. “You’ll reap all
the benefits, of course. I hear the human sensation as we feed is phenomenal.”

  She nearly choked on her own tongue, then reminded herself that no fangs would mar her throat. Never. As for phenomenal... Yeah, right. Maybe if you were into pain.

  She ran her hand over her thigh, reminding herself of the panic button. And she would wager that the flatware lying before her was at least part silver—an extra protection. Once it penetrated the skin, silver was like acid to a vampire’s insides. Her hand itched to hold her stake. When it was strapped to her side, she felt power surging through her in the face of vampires.

  Now, she wasn’t as certain.

  Joshua and a second waiter paraded into the room, balancing their starter plates on trays. Fast service. One of many bonuses of shelling out ridiculous amounts of money for a meal.

  They set down the plates in front of Tiffany and Caius. Joshua flashed a respectful smile. “We hope everything is to your liking.” Then he and his shadow exited.

  Tiffany eyed the plate before her. Artistic foodie explosion or delicious high-class meal? She wasn’t quite sure which, but the overcompensating extravagance was certain.

  Caius leaned forward in his seat and fixed his stare on her. “Where did I leave off?” He paused, then, grinning, pushed his seat away from the table. “Ah, yes, the advantages.” He stood and crossed to her side of the table, looming behind her. “As I said, you’ll reap every benefit. I’ll make sure you have the finest of everything, and, of course, there are always—” he squeezed her shoulders and whispered in her ear “—the sexual benefits.”

  She froze beneath his touch. Her mouth went dry, and sweat gathered on her palms. “In other words, I’ll be your high-end call girl.” She slid away from his hold and rose from her chair to face him.

  The ancient vampire frowned. “Call it what you like, but I assure you that you will be receiving the better end of the deal.”

  He leaned closer, and a feeling of dread crashed hard in her chest, turning her breathing labored. This was going south, and fast. She wouldn’t show her fear, but she wouldn’t allow him to have any more of a physical advantage, either.

  She held her voice steady. “What exactly would those benefits be?”

  He stepped closer, and she took a matching step back. Slowly, they circled the table, and the frown on Caius’s face became a smile. He thought she was being playful, she realized. Better that than have him realize what she was really being.

  “You’re the one who asked me to meet you tonight, Tiffany, so don’t play coy. You know exactly what those benefits are. Don’t you?” His gaze narrowed, staggering in its intensity.

  She glanced at the floor and up again, praying she looked flirtatious instead of terrified. “I’m really not sure. You may have to spell things out for—”

  Before she knew what was going on, Caius had pinned her between her chair and his body. He moved so fast she barely saw him.

  He grasped her throat. With one squeeze, he could crush her windpipe. “Don’t get cute with me,” he snapped. “We both know what I want, and I intend to get it whether you’re willing or not.”

  Her eyes widened. Heat rushed to her face as she fought to breathe. She strained for the panic button and gasped for air as Caius’s grip tightened. With the tiniest snap, his fangs descended. His canines glistened in the light of the chandelier. He reared his head and prepared to sink his fangs into the delicate skin of her throat.

  * * *

  Damon stormed through the kitchen, shoving his way into the restaurant. The smells of simmering white wine and melted cheeses invaded his nose. Shouts echoed behind him. An angry cook yelled as he passed, “You can’t come in here!”

  Not a surprising reaction to a man in a ski mask. He ignored them all and kept going.

  At the sight of him, a woman in his path spilled a large vat of what appeared to be pea soup. The liquid splashed over the steel toes of his boots.

  But he didn’t care—nothing would stop him from finding Tiffany. When he heard the panic button sound, her safety became his sole mission.

  He burst into the restaurant. His eyes darted across the room. Shit. Where was she? His line of vision followed a waiter as he walked past a back hallway. She had to be in a private room. Damon slipped through the crowded room as fast as he could, before he bolted down the hallway. A faint whimpering sound carried through the only door. Something inside him snapped.

  Pulling his gun from his belt, he wrenched the door open, stepped to the side and aimed, making sure Tiffany wasn’t in the line of fire. He squeezed the trigger. The mix of music and voices from the main dining room drowned out the muffled shot. Silencers were a hunter’s blessing.

  Caius’s body jolted before he spun to face Damon. Tiffany fell to the floor, gasping for air. A small trickle of blood ran down her neck from where Caius’s fingernails had dug into her skin as he choked her. Rage coursed through Damon at the sight. A loud snarl ripped from his throat. Caius would die.

  He fired another shot straight into the ancient bloodsucker’s chest, blowing a massive hole in Caius’s body, but at Caius’s age, the skin and organs knitted together again in seconds. Damon tucked his gun away, and ripped a silver dagger and his wooden stake from his jacket.

  Fangs already down, Caius hissed, and the two of them charged each other. They collided at full speed, meeting each other blow for blow. A normal man stood no chance against a vampire as old as Caius, but gifted with the speed and strength of his Execution Underground training, Damon held his own. Anger and rage fueled his every move.

  No vampire hurt Tiffany and lived. None.

  Raising his dagger overhead, Damon slashed the knife across Caius’s face. The leech hissed in pain. Blood gushed down his cheeks, and the wound smoked as if Damon had poured acid into it, but that didn’t deter Caius. He blocked the swing of Damon’s stake and punched Damon in the solar plexus. Gasping for air, Damon rushed the vampire, hitting him straight in the midsection. They toppled to the ground. Caius grabbed for Damon’s stake, but Damon held tight. No way in hell was that vamp getting it.

  Rolling his body overtop Caius, Damon plunged his knife downward and nicked Caius’s arm, but the vampire managed to roll out of his grasp. Caius jumped to his feet and gripped Damon’s throat, lifting him into the air. Damon was over six feet, but Caius dangled him above the ground.

  Tiffany screamed. Shit. She was unarmed.

  She lunged for a piece of flatware.

  Damon gaped. “Tiff—” he choked out.

  With both hands, she jabbed a fork into the back of Caius’s neck, and he whipped his head around to address the distraction. Exactly the opportunity Damon needed.

  He twisted and kicked his foot straight into Caius’s gut. Caius’s grip faltered. Seizing the vampire’s arm, Damon drove the blade of his silver dagger straight through the bone. A loud roar ripped through the empty room, Caius grasped at the dagger, pulling the blade out so his wound could heal. Blood spurted from his forearm as he threw the blade with expert precision straight into Damon’s shoulder.

  Pain exploded through Damon’s flesh, and adrenaline raced through him. He fell to his knees. Warm blood gushed down his chest, and he faintly registered the sound of Tiffany yelling his name. Clutching the dagger by the hilt, he ripped the blade from his wound. His vision spun from the pain, but he would not falter.

  A fresh wave of adrenaline-fueled energy pumped into his veins. Caius rushed forward, but Damon swept the vampire’s legs out from under him. The bloodsucker toppled over, and they rolled in a heap on the ground, both fighting to gain the upper hand. Caius’s fist slammed into Damon’s face.

  Damon hit the bastard with an uppercut to the jaw, sending him flying backward. Caius scrambled across the floor as Damon jumped to his feet. Using every ounce of strength he possessed, he gripped Caius by the throat, lifting him in
to the air and slamming him down onto the dinner table. Shattered plate shards flew through the air.

  Damon lifted his stake over his head, then brought the wood down. Caius clamped both hands around Damon’s wrist, struggling to hold off death. Blood dripped across Caius from Damon’s injured shoulder, but Damon fought through the pain.

  The image of Mark’s face contorted with pain flashed through his mind. This leech had killed his fellow hunter, his closest friend. The filthy beast lying beneath him had robbed Tiffany of her brother.

  He would pay. He would die.

  Damon shook as he shoved against Caius. Losing blood, and fast, he felt the wooden stake being raised as Caius gained the upper hand.

  No.

  Damon’s vision blurred. Blood spurted from his wound, and he felt the color drain from his face, but he refused to give in.

  Caius. Would. Die.

  He released one of his hands from the stake and saw Caius grin. The dumbass thought Damon was losing the fight. No chance in hell. With his free hand Damon pulled his gun from his belt. A bullet to the chest wouldn’t deter Caius, but he knew what would. Looking up, he aimed his gun straight for the fragile hook that held the chandelier in place. He squeezed the trigger.

  The bullet blasted into the plaster of the ceiling, and the chandelier teetered before plunging toward the ground. Damon jumped back. The gold bars and crystals of the chandelier exploded on top of Caius’s body.

  Writhing beneath them, Caius squirmed to release himself from their weight.

  Now.

  A loud battle cry ripped from Damon’s throat. Running forward, he lifted his weapon over his head and stabbed the stake straight through Caius’s heart.

  The ancient vampire burst to pieces. Blood splattered in all directions, coating Damon in the thick crimson liquid.

  “Damon!” Tiffany ran to his side.

  Damon crumpled to his knees, wiping the blood off his face. Tiffany fell to her own knees beside him. Specks of blood covered her face and her sparkling dress. Dots of black clouded his vision. Tiffany examined his wound.