Crimson Psyche

by Lynda Hilburn

  “Kismet,” Victoria interrupted, “I don’t think Devereux would like you distracting his employees. You wouldn’t want to get Nigel in trouble, would you?” She wrapped her fingers around my arm, as if she worried I’d fall.

  I kept my gaze on the eye-candy in front of me. “Would you like to get into some trouble, Nigel? We could just sneak away for a few minutes and discuss the issue.”

  He laughed. “Trouble I could deal with, but if I laid one finger on Devereux’s woman, he’d rip my heart out of my chest before I even thought about unzipping my pants. I think that’s a little too much danger for this vampire. I’m a mellow bloodsucker. Besides, I’m happy here. I don’t want to mess things up. So, what else can I get you, besides me?”

  I pouted, and he laughed again. Thanks to my unexpected new muscles, I could probably drag him from behind the bar, find a cozy hideaway and indulge myself for a few minutes, but they were right. Maybe he wasn’t the best candidate, but damn, he was gorgeous.

  “Okay.” I smiled. “If I can’t have you, I guess I’ll have a couple shots of tequila.” I asked Victoria, “What do you want?”

  “I’d like a glass of red wine, please, Nigel.”

  “Coming right up.” He trotted off to fetch our order. The view was arousing.

  “Victoria?” said a male voice from behind me.

  Intrigued, I angled my head to check out the owner of the warm, appealing sound. A tall, distinguished man wearing a dark suit, red shirt, and grey tie stood behind me. My ass was still swaying in the air from my attempt to crawl across the bar, so I plopped it down onto my heels.

  “Winston.” Victoria’s face lit up. “It’s so good to see you. Let me introduce my friend, Dr. Kismet Knight.”

  He bowed his head, and smiled. Fangs. His dark eyes twinkled. “I have heard of you, Dr. Knight. It’s lovely to meet you in person.”

  I sat properly on my stool and gave him a friendly smile. Anyone who could animate Victoria’s face like that was aces in my book. His shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair made him look somewhere between forty and fifty. I hadn’t met a vampire that old before — not that forty-something was old, but most vampires were brought over sooner. I wondered what his story was.

  Nigel brought our drinks, winked at me and bolted away. He must have seen the gleam I was sure I had in my eyes.

  I slammed the tequila shots, one after the other. “Wow. Those were tasty. I think I’ll get a couple more. You two go on and find a romantic corner.” I saw Victoria’s smile slide into a frown and patted her arm. “Honest. I’m just letting off some steam. I’ll go find the lord and master shortly, but before that, I want to dance! It’s been ages since I let my Inner Wild Woman out.”

  Victoria gave Winston a pained smile, as if she was trying to telepathically communicate something she didn’t want to share with me. “I think we should invite Kismet to sit with us while she waits for Devereux to arrive, don’t you, Winston?”

  “Certainly.” He smiled, oozing charm. “What man wouldn’t be pleased to have a beautiful woman on each arm?” He extended both elbows, either waiting for us to grab on or preparing to flap his arms in a chicken imitation. I laughed, and he cocked his head, a confused expression flowing across his handsome features.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I have a weird sense of humor. Seriously. I don’t want to go and sit with you until my owner comes to fetch me. I want to have some fun. So run along.”

  They both stared at me, so I added emphasis. “Really.”

  Winston bowed, put his arm around Victoria and guided her across the room. She glanced back once, her face an unhappy mask.

  I climbed back up on my knees, plopped my chest on the bar, and hollered, “Nigel! More alcohol, please!”

  He ambled over. “Do you want another tequila shot?”

  I licked my lips. “I’d say you read my mind, but I know you can’t.”

  He smiled as he poured the potent liquid into my glass. “It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that you’ll probably find the trouble you’re seeking. I heard that a certain ancient vampire hunter is in town and he’s taken a fancy to you. If you’d heed a word of advice, I think you should be more careful than usual. Something evil is percolating, if you know what I mean. If even half the legends about Hallow are true, he’s a deranged vampire. You’d do well to stay out of his path.”

  I reached over and stroked his pale cheek, giving him my brightest smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to duck out for a few minutes?”

  Nigel gently removed my hand from his face. “Dr. Knight, because I know how crazy Devereux is about you, I wish you’d take my warning seriously. Hallow has come to kill someone. If the rumors are right, it might be someone close to Devereux. I’d suspect it was you if you were a vampire, but the situation is ominous. Why don’t I send someone downstairs to find Devereux for you?” He stared into my eyes, making a valiant effort to entrance me. “You really don’t want to dance tonight. You want to be a good little human and stay out of trouble.”

  “Woot! That was awesome, Nigel.” He backed up, clearly surprised. “Ineffective, but awesome. I’m not that easy to enthrall, but I do appreciate your concern. I’ll tell Devereux what a darling you are.”

  I downed the shot, jumped off the stool and waved good-bye to Nigel over my shoulder. Then, heeding the call of nature, I headed to the bathroom.

  The crowd was thick and uncooperative as I elbowed my way through.

  “Hey! Watch out, asshole!” yelled one of the women whose drinks I jostled.

  I raised my middle finger as I pushed past and kept it aloft as I encountered other unhappy people needing to be shoved aside. The shock on their faces made me feel good, powerful.

  “Look out, world, I’m full of vampire blood!” I pushed the bathroom door with my hip and barged inside. The tequila on top of the pot had given me a nice buzz. “Make way!” I bypassed the line of women waiting for a stall and jumped into a newly vacated one.

  “Yo, bitch!” A hand grabbed my wrist before the cubicle door could close. “Don’t you see this line? Get your ass to the end of it and wait your turn like everybody else.”

  I easily tugged free of the Mohawk-haired tattooed woman’s grip. “Oh, yeah? Who’s gonna make me?” This was going to be fun.

  Her lips spread in an evil smile, exposing a wide gap in the front where two teeth should have been. The surrounding dentistry featured various shades of brown and yellow. Her massive breasts spilled over the top and flowed out the armholes of a too-tight Harley Davidson leather vest. “You’re lookin’ at her, whore.” She poked out her chest and stood up straight, gaining a couple of inches in height.

  A collective gasp filled the room, and all the women waiting in line took quick steps toward the wall.

  “Oh, shit — go and get a waitress, Candy,” one spectator said to the woman next to her. “Jenna’s gonna wipe the floor with this skinny bitch.”

  A tiny woman with curly blue hair darted out the door.

  “Yeah, go and get someone to save this cunt’s life because I’m about to stomp her brainless,” Jenna said, and reached toward me. She looked like someone who’d had some practice at what she threatened — all the better.

  “Bring it on, cow,” I yelled, and shoved her back from the door.

  She obviously hadn’t expected me to have any muscle, because she wasn’t prepared for the force of the push. She stumbled backward, unable to recover her balance, and went down hard on her ass with a thud. I laughed at the sound.

  The last things I remember before I jumped on her and started punching were the gasps that filled the room and the big woman’s startled expression. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open as she raised her hands in defense.

  I lost track of time, then suddenly people were pulling at me, trying to lift me off the unmoving biker. I rose to my feet and stood over Jenna, my hair barely ruffled, not even breathing hard, and glanced at the blood on my knuckles.

  A waitress char
ged into the room and bounced her gaze between the woman on the floor and me. “What the hell happened?”

  “She cut in line and Jenna was gonna set her straight,” a tall, emaciated woman said, pointing at me. “But she beat the crap out of Jenna.”

  Everybody stared down at Jenna, who was unconscious. She had a bloody nose and bruised eyes that would be swollen shut very soon. Her lips were split in several places and she’d lost another tooth. The buttons on her vest had gone missing, and her breasts had taken advantage of the breathing room to run amok.

  The waitress studied me, her eyes narrowed. “Holy shit. It’s you. Devereux’s girlfriend. No. Fuckin’. Way.” She pressed her hands to the sides of her head. “He’s going to go apeshit when he finds out that someone tried to hurt you. You’re supposed to be guarded at all times — you’re no match for someone like her. Or so we thought. Are you hurt?”

  Everyone was watching me, waiting for me to speak.

  “Hell no, I’m not hurt. She shouldn’t have tried to fuck with me,” I said calmly, expressing what I thought was merely logic. “I had to pee and she got in my way.” Silence continued as I swung around and walked back into the stall and shut the door. I peed, then came out. The crowd parted as I strode to one of the sinks to wash my bloody hands.

  Turning to grab some paper towels, I scanned all the open-mouthed faces around me. “I’m going to go dance now. See ya. Thanks for the good time.”

  I ambled back into the main club, which was even more packed than before I went to the bathroom.

  The band was playing an upbeat, heavy-rock number and I stood on the edge of the dance floor, jiggling in place. My stiletto heels gave me the height I needed to see over the heads of the crowd, which made it much easier to search the area for potential dance partners. Lyrics from an old song my father loved — something about a stranger across a crowded room — popped into my mind as I laid eyes on a dark-haired cover boy strolling in my direction.

  My face wasn’t big enough to hold the smile that spread across my lips. Oh, yeah. Things were definitely improving.

  Chapter 12

  “Hey, pretty lady. I was just standing over there, thinking I’d like to find someone soft and curvy to dance with, and there you were. We must’ve been destined to meet, wouldn’t you say?” He spoke with a subtle western twang.

  I just couldn’t stop smiling. The sweet young thing probably wasn’t even twenty-one. I wondered how he’d gotten past Ankh. The band had paused long enough for the musicians to down a number of beers before launching into the next tune, so I was able to hear my new companion without any need for him to yell.

  “My, my. Aren’t you adorable?” I trailed a fingernail down the front of his shirt. In my stilettos, I was almost six feet tall, but my sumptuous companion wasn’t at all intimidated by my Wonder Woman stance. His cowboy boots had heels that elevated him a couple of inches over me. “What’s your name, handsome?”

  His jeans and black T-shirt perfectly showcased his slender, toned body. The yummy stranger ran his fingers through a mass of dark, shoulder-length hair. Warm brown eyes gazed soulfully from beneath thick lashes. I was certain there had to be a Stetson on the front seat of his truck. He grinned. Fangless. “I’m Trevor, Trey to my friends.” He offered his hand for me to shake.

  What a delicious morsel. I clasped his warm hand and held on, pulling him closer. “Well, Trey. I don’t know if you’ve got a thing for older women because of unresolved mother issues or if you just want to play with fire, but I’m ready.”

  The drummer counted time, raised his drumsticks over his head, and the first chords of a classic Eric Clapton tune split the air.

  I tugged Trey toward the dance floor. He registered surprise at my strength, but quickly boogied into the spirit of things. We elbowed our way through the fray, moving to the powerful rhythm. I could tell he was a natural — watching his slim hips undulate was a treat for the eyes. And the libido.

  We rocked to the driving beat, and by the time the song ended, the temperature in the club had spiked into the tropical range. We grabbed onto each other, laughing, and I slid my hands down his shoulders, appreciating the fine muscle tone. He leaned back and grinned, shifting his gaze down to my breasts. The expression on his face made it clear he believed all his most orgasmic dreams were about to come true.

  I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted to slip away with the luscious lad or not, but I was enjoying his hard body next to mine. He bent forward and kissed me on the lips. He smelled like fresh young male, and I had a quick fantasy about licking my way down his muscled frame.

  The band began playing a slow song and when Trey pulled me in close, his erection pressed against my stomach. He tilted his head, aiming his lips in my direction, when an arm snaked around my waist from behind and tugged me backward, lifting me a couple of inches off the floor.

  “Hey! What the—?”

  I didn’t need the distinctive medallion to recognize the contours of the chest I was pinned against. Trey’s eyes went glassy and his mouth slowly sagged open.

  A velvet voice cut through the music. “Thank you for entertaining my fiancée, my friend. I was delayed in arriving, so it was most kind of you to make sure she enjoyed herself. Here.” Devereux shifted me to his hip as if I were an unruly toddler and handed Trey several business-card-size pieces of paper. “Complimentary drinks for you and a guest, for the rest of the night. Go now.”

  Trey shook his head vigorously, gave a blank stare and shuffled off the dance floor.

  “You can put me down now, Mr. Party Pooper,” I said, pouting.

  He released me. “Pooper?”

  I pivoted, prepared to give him hell for ruining my high school fantasy, but found myself smiling instead as my hormones shouted, “Yippee!” What a gorgeous hunk of manhood he was: a platinum-haired, high-fashion leather-clad god. My hands caressed his chest, sliding along the soft fabric of his ice-blue silk T-shirt. “Never mind about pooper. Dance with me.”

  He studied my face, his expression serious. “Something is very wrong.”

  “Oh, come on, Blondie.” I reached up and clasped my hands behind his neck, molding my body to his. “Stop whining and dance.”

  He wrapped me in his arms and began swaying to the music. After a few seconds, I felt a tingling over my scalp and I leaned back far enough to meet his eyes. “Are you doing something? My head feels funny.” I stumbled and he had to tighten his hold to keep me on my feet.

  “No, it is not me. The Slayer has somehow penetrated your protections.”

  I blinked a few times, trying to dissipate the woozy disorientation, and laughed. “Here I am, all dressed up just for you, and you’re talking about some other guy penetrating me.” I threaded my fingers through the long, soft strands of his hair. “What’s it going to take to get you in a romantic mood?”

  The music stopped and Devereux frowned. “Come.” He gently released my arms from around his neck, grabbed my hand and hustled me through the crowd, which parted for him like the Red Sea did for Moses. We hurried to the door leading down to the lower level of the club. John the vampire addict, whose job it was to keep humans away from the secret portions of the building, opened the heavy door for us and we stepped inside. But instead of making our way down the steep stairs, Devereux encircled my waist with his arm and thought us into his private bedroom.

  The large room was more like a combination studio, ritual space and sleeping area than just a bedroom. I had asked him if he really slept there instead of in a coffin, but he’d just smiled without answering. Funny how he was so close-mouthed about anything to do with his own life, but demanded to know every single thing about mine.

  The space hadn’t changed since the last time I’d visited. Devereux was an accomplished artist and his paintings filled the walls. One corner of the room was devoted to art supplies, empty canvases and easels holding works-in-progress. He’d hung the portrait of me, supposedly painted eight hundred years earlier, in a prominent place, with
special lighting above and below, displayed alongside the portrait of his mother — the dead one who’d shown up in the flesh at a ritual to welcome me to the family.

  A long table cluttered with bottles, ornate boxes, candles and New Age paraphernalia dominated the space between the art corner and the bed. A beautiful large amethyst ball sat balanced on a golden pedestal, apparently in readiness for future casting — Devereux was a well-known seer, by all accounts. He’d told me the strange bottles contained herbs and other ingredients for his magic spells and potions. I’d thought he was kidding at first, that all this hocus-pocus was just a silly hobby, but he soon disabused me of that notion. In fact, he’d done a number of things for which I had no rational explanation — not that I had any rational explanation for vampires, either.

  He flicked his fingers, igniting candles, and stepped back to stare at me, a sour expression on his face. “I must find a solution to this problem,” he said.

  “What problem?”

  He ignored me. “If my vampire powers are not sufficient to the task, then I will create a magical resolution.” He started to move away toward the door leading to an outer office. “I must consult my books for an appropriate spell.”

  I sprinted in front of him to cut him off. “Wait a minute, Love Buns. I didn’t come down here to sit alone while you indulge yourself in woo-woo research. I have my own agenda. A woman has needs, you know.” I batted my eyelashes and gave what I hoped was a naughty smile. “Let’s go and sit on the bed and talk for a while.”

  Pain radiated through my skull, making my legs tremble, and I grabbed the sides of my head. “Ow, dammit, knock it off! You’re giving me a headache. If my brain explodes, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

  Devereux lifted me effortlessly into his arms. “It is not me, Kismet, truly. Hallow has infiltrated your aura. He must be visiting your dreams in order to create such blockage. I cast a very strong protective spell on your home after I left yesterday so he could not accost you there, and since I told you not to leave, you should have been safe.” He walked over to the bed and deposited me on the multicolored duvet, then sat on the edge and removed his boots before crawling up beside me.