by Leeah Taylor
A light she didn’t expect lit up his whole face. “She’s good. Really good.”
She finally won his heart. Bout damn time, Chelsea.
She smiled. “You two?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, and she made me fight hard for it.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Jules, come home.”
She shook her head and cleared away the last of the emotions trying to make the choice for her. It’d be an easy one. Go home where it was safe. At least for Riley.
“This wolf—”
“Even if the werewolf wanted my blood for something, like taking down the barrier around Sterling, they’d need my grimoire. And that’s safe in Sterling with Damien. Probably some wolf with a blood fetish.”
A battle warred in his eyes. She knew exactly what he wanted to do. Take her back home kicking and screaming the entire way. Just the small complication of his asshole brother. Damien would catch the smallest scent of her in the air, and he’d hunt her down like he did the wolves. The way he’d taught her. She’d be dead inside a day.
She buried the memory. “I’m not that careless. I have rules.”
No wolves. No witches. Vampires only. Contact through email first and that’s what got her into this mess. She’d ignored the red flags because she was desperate.
“I never doubted your intentions.”
She went to the bedroom door and crossed her arms. “You did, actually. I know what I’m doing.”
Lucien looked over the room before nodding and pushing up from the bed. He pulled his wallet out and took out several bills from the fold.
He laid the money on the nightstand. “Pay the bills, Jules.”
“I told you I don’t want your money.”
But she did need it. Desperately.
He smirked. “Your pride has always made you impossibly stubborn.” She looked away, trying to hide her amusement as he crossed the room to her. “Take the money, please, if not for you then to give me some peace of mind.”
“She’ll take the money,” Riley yelled from the living room.
She would listen in on the conversation, and Juliette couldn’t find a reason to be mad about the eavesdropping. She still had to face Riley when Lucien left.
“Goodbye, Lucien,” Juliette choked out, forcing back the tears.
He hesitated before taking her face in his hands and kissing her on the forehead. She leaned into the affection, wanting to feel his warmth one last time. Remembering what it was like, for just a moment, not to live in perpetual fear. When he finally turned and stepped out in the hall, she let out the breath she had been holding.
He stopped, once more, with his back to her. “He does love you.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around her body, tears blurred her vision. “Then he’ll go to his grave with that secret.”
Lucien didn’t look back at her. “Goodbye, Juliette.”
She lost the battle with her tears when the front door clicked closed and she slid to the floor. The weight of twenty years was too much to carry anymore. She missed the life she had before. When it was easy. Back when the hardest part was just Damien. Looking back, even he was easier than life now. Riley rounded the corner into the hall looking ready to hash it out but softened with her shoulders sagging.
“Jules…”
“I’m sorry,” Juliette said.
“Should have told me how bad it was.” Riley dropped to the floor next to her. “We would have figured it out together.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just…” She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “I was afraid you’d just up and leave.”
Riley shoved her. “Shut up. All in or not at all. Been all in since that night behind the bar. Not going to leave because we’re broke.”
“Can’t believe you called Lucien.”
Riley laughed. “If it makes you feel any better, I would have slept with him too.”
Juliette shook her head with a smile as heat crept up into her cheeks. “It doesn’t.”
“Well, I’m just saying Mr. Good Looking in a Suit would be hard to resist. He’s all shiny and polished. I bet he’s a beast in bed.”
Juliette nudged her. “Stop it.”
“It’s always the prim and proper quiet ones.”
Fiery heat flushed through her cheeks again, and she leaned her head back against the door. “I’m not going to say you’re wrong but...”
Riley waved it off. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s more complicated than that. Blah, blah, blah… That about cover it?”
Juliette rolled her eyes. “Yep.”
He loved her in all the ways she deserved while she loved Damien in all the ways he didn’t deserve. It was a dangerous concoction that had ended exactly as she expected. In betrayal and heartbreak.
“But seriously, he’s a wild one, isn’t he?” Riley teased.
“I hate you.”
“No, you really don’t because I made you smile.”
She was good at doing it.
“I think I made a big mistake.”
Riley pulled her closer. “You did, but I still love you.”
Shaking her head. “No, Riley.” She turned to face her. “I mean, I may have made a huge mistake, and I’m not sure I can fix it before something bad happens.”
Damien | 4
Damien tipped a shot glass forward. The dark amber liquid balanced on the edge of the rim. A fiery itch reared up in the back of his throat, and he craved for the burn of the whiskey to sate his other craving.
He glanced over his shoulder at the empty dance floor of Juleps. It wouldn’t be empty much longer. Two of the staff polished the floor while servers wiped down the hardwood high top tables clustered around the room.
Past the dance floor, a set of wide stairs led upstairs to the VIP lounge. A handful of people, dressed in all black, were making sure the deep red plush couches and armchairs that filled the long, dark and narrow space were nothing less than perfect. They fluffed the black pillows and smoothed out the black tablecloths across the intimate, two seat tables.
The lounge would be perfection, per usual. Probably another high rolling tourist booked the space, looking to impress his buddies. Maybe it was a bachelor party. Wonder if there’ll be strippers? The thought did nothing for his dick.
He glimpsed upstairs at Drew, the bartender for the lounge, and caught him eyeing Ollie behind the bar downstairs. Fucking piece of shit. He wasn’t even his baby brother’s type. Blonde hair, dull eyes. Kinda scrawny. Ollie liked them built at least enough to play.
Damien had no idea why his baby brother kept him on the payroll after their epic split years ago. The guy was a certified man whore. It said a lot since Ollie had a long and torrid track record in Sterling. But he also wasn’t a cheater. He had a code. Morals. More than could be said about Drew.
I should have beat the living shit out of the guy for hurting him like he did.
Ollie swiped the shot and threw it back.
“I hate the cheap shit,” he hissed.
“Serves you right, you little shit,” Damien said.
He shrugged with a smug smirk that pissed Damien off. “You weren’t going to drink it.”
“Maybe I was,” he growled.
“You definitely weren’t. Anybody that thinks that hard about drinking it isn’t going to drink it.”
Damien clenched his jaw and glared across the bar top at his brother. “Just pour me another shot.”
“You gonna leave me a fat tip?”
He still had a smug look on his face. Dark blue eyes lit up, ready to go a few rounds. Damien wasn’t in the mood. Like the little shit needed a tip; it was a third his bar, and he made good damn money from it.
“I’m gonna give you a fat lip if you don’t shut up and pour the damn whiskey.”
Ollie chuckled and started filling the shot glass. Damien grabbed the glass before he finished pouring, forcing him to jerk the bottle upright with a flit of annoyance in his stare. Can’t let any spill o
n his precious wood surface. Sometimes Ollie could be as fussy as Lucien. Maybe even more.
Damien chuckled before gulping the shot back. It warmed the back of his throat and burned down to his belly but did nothing for his foul mood.
“Where’s Lucien?” he hissed out.
Ollie just shrugged as he put the whiskey bottle back on the shelf behind him. “Don’t know. He left in a hurry this morning before you even crawled your ass out of bed. Just said he had business to take care of.”
Lucien didn’t just up and leave. Ever. Not without some explanation. He had a routine, and this broke routine. He motioned for Ollie to pour another shot.
“Bro,” he commented, cocking his head to the side. “It’s barely even sunset.”
Damien’s brow pulled together. “Bro,” he mocked his little brother. “Just pour the fucking shot.”
“God, you’re in a mood.”
Ollie grabbed the whiskey bottle back down from the shelf before pausing in the mirror on the wall. He turned with a wicked smile.
“Just the mood boost you need, here comes Rebecca Law.”
He nodded in her direction, and Damien twisted on the stool. She stood at the door, schmoozing one of Damien’s guys, Xavier, to let her in. And the asshole did. Show a little tit and slip the man a twenty and here she came. I should fire him. He wouldn’t though. The man had been with him for over a century. He had Damien’s back from the word go. Too loyal to cut him loose. Couldn’t fault the man for giving into the devil spawn succubus, Rebecca. Besides, if he wanted to give him a hard time, he’d just tell Lindsey, his wife. She’d shred him good. Problem solved.
Damien twisted back toward the bar with a scowl. “Geez, she’s been on me for weeks.”
Every corner he turned there was Rebecca coming onto him with every advance she could muster. His dick wasn’t interested. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Not ever.
Ollie lifted a brow. “Oh?”
He gave him a shut the hell up glare. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” Damien pointed upstairs. “Why don’t you go up there and talk to your boyfriend?”
The sting of his words seeped into Ollie’s glare.
“Why do you have to be a dick?”
Damien chuckled. “Just pointing out how desperately in love with him you still are. That’s all. Yet here you stand watching him. And him watching you. It’s pathetic.”
“Pfft, I’m pathetic?” Ollie rolled his eyes. “I’d rather be pathetic than a cheating asshole.”
He didn’t miss the hurt that flashed in his baby brother’s eyes.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
“Sorry, Ollie.”
Ollie half-shrugged. “Whatever. Better watch out, she’s on the prowl tonight.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.”
Rebecca moved with the determination of a tigress in heat, eyes trained on Damien. Her hips rocked back and forth in a short black dress that hugged her curves. His dick still wasn’t interested. It was like was mating season in the Serengeti, and he was top pick. Correction, the only pick. She needed to look somewhere else because the last time he had her on his arm, his entire world had come crashing down.
“Play your cards right and you’ll get yourself laid tonight,” Ollie chuckled. “You clearly need it.”
“I get laid plenty. I just don’t screw witches.”
Wrong. Only one witch he’d fuck. Once upon a time at least. Not anymore. She’s gone. Not coming back. Now he wished he’d at least have tasted her flesh once. Those lips. He balled his hands up in front of him.
“You don’t get laid, and don’t be salty just because Lucien is getting hot tail from Chelsea.”
Damien glared back. He gripped to the shot glass in his hand to keep from sending it across the bar.
“And when the witches find out about their little affair guess who will have to deal with the consequences. Me.”
“Well, you were the facilitator. Got nobody to blame but yourself.” Ollie shrugged. “Man up, deal with it.”
He hated that Lucien went head over heels for Chelsea, but he facilitated a whole fucking lot years ago to make sure they could be together. Why? Because he gave damn. As usual.
Witches and vampires didn’t socialize. They did business. They made deals. They came to agreements. They did not, under any circumstances, get involved in the bedroom. Or with their hearts. Witches forbade it with their Witch-Vampire Union Laws. For nothing more than because vampires were unnatural to them. Lacked the natural order of life and death. Procreation. But it was their laws not the vampires’. By the way Rebecca stalked towards him, she didn’t care what the witches forbid.
“Hi, Damien,” she purred, wedging herself between his legs. “A minute of your time?”
Ollie choked back a laugh and mumbled something under his breath. Damien shot him a warning, and Ollie moved further down the bar just in earshot with that smug grin. Little shit.
Funny he was all teasing and taunting, but Damien knew the truth. If Ollie could stomach it, he’d see Rebecca Law six feet under for her part that night. For her part in breaking the girl that meant more to him than anyone. His lifeline. He was just getting off on giving Damien a hard time.
“What do you need, Rebecca?” Her hands slid up his chest. He caught her by the wrists, glaring at her.
“I have a proposition for you,” she practically purred. His dick still wasn’t interested.
“Not interested.” He turned back towards the bar.
She moved closer, her hand slipping between his legs, and he stilled. “I won’t bite, Damien.”
He caught her hand as she squeezed and now his dick stirred. It knew no better. Fucking hell. His gaze met hers. For a moment he almost imagined she could be Juliette. He shuddered with her name flitting through his mind.
They were similar in looks. The long dark hair and puckered red lips. The eyes jarred him back to reality though. A dull brown that was boring compared to Juliette’s vibrant purple with flecks of turquoise. Like looking into the heart of a galaxy. So unique and rare. Those eyes turned heads. They’d stolen his fucking heart.
How easy would it be to pretend? Too easy. He could already see Rebecca’s crimson lips going down on him. The wet warmth of her mouth. If he didn’t look in her eyes, it would be too easy to pretend. To use his imagination of what Juliette might feel like. The hell’s the matter with me? A sick feeling pooled in the pit of his stomach and deflated any stirring in his dick.
Damien shoved her hand away. “No, Rebecca.”
A frown pulled down on the corner of her lips as she started to reach for him again. “But I could make you feel so good, Damien, and make you forget.”
A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and he grabbed her by the wrists, shoving her back harder. He didn’t want to forget.
“I don’t screw witches. Now get out of my face and if I see you in my bar again, you’ll wish you never even knew my name.”
She stumbled back with the audacity to look wounded. Shock and disgust twisted in her expression. Rebecca mastered her little act like a pro.
“God, Damien, you really are a dick.”
“Yeah, well, a dick you’ll never get the pleasure of knowing.” A smug smile rested on his lips. “Get out.”
She stormed away, her heels clicking loudly against the wooden floor and out the door. Ollie took his place across the bar, popped the top to a beer, and set it down in front of Damien.
“You really need to get laid.” Damien lunged over the bar at Ollie as he laughed and dodged him. “Come on, Damien, lighten up. What’s got your pretty pink panties all bunched up?”
He took his phone out and dialed Lucien’s number. “Our brother.”
The call went straight to voicemail, and his fist closed around the phone to throw it.
“Damien!”
He froze, gritted his teeth, and shoved the phone back in his pocket before he had to replace it again.
“Geez, just go up to the
office and cool the hell down already. Read a book or something.”
He swiped the beer from the bar with a scowl and made the walk across the room. The line outside was growing at the door. Loyals, locals, and tourists giddy to spend the evening at Juleps.
It had a reputation that brought locals and tourists in every single night. It didn’t even need to be the weekend although their numbers easily doubled from Friday to Sunday. If not tripled. The good liquor was cheap, only the best entertainment, and people just seemed to love the Frosts. Especially Oliver. Damien didn’t know why, but the obscene amount of money they poured back into Sterling probably had something to do with it.
He didn’t give the bar another look when he reached the second floor, barely glancing at the lounge and slipped into the office. At least it was quiet in there. No chatter from the staff as they gossiped about who was fucking who at the bar. Not that Ollie cared one way or the other. Probably slept with half the staff himself. But Damien heard it day in and day out. It was like a damn locker room with the teenage drama seeping from it. He could do without it.
He collapsed in one of the leather chairs and picked up the newspaper from the table beside him. Heart shuddering in his chest. Regret washed over him. The front page stared back at him with that name again. A picture of Damien and his brothers gathered around a young girl with the headline:
Sterling graduate awarded the first of many full ride scholarships funded by the Marquis Frost Scholarship Foundation.
He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. A galaxy of purples and turquoise filled the darkness, capturing his breath and holding it hostage. He found a peace and serenity when he let himself slip into the memory of those eyes. So perfect. So fierce.
Betraying. A memory had him seeing red, and it stole the galaxy from him as it crashed into his mind.
Lucien could be vindictive in a passive aggressive way. Make his blood boil. Like naming the scholarship foundation after her. The press release was already issued. The website was already live. By the time he learned of the name, applications for scholarships were coming in. There was nothing he could do but grit his teeth and deal with it. Lucien took too much satisfaction in that too.