Although Dexter Van Sussex might prove dangerous to my resolve in that area. Especially after the dreams I had of him taking charge of me.
I close my eyes and my fingers creep between my legs as I think about him. He’s a handsome guy, and he’s definitely into me.
Or, I should say, definitely wants to be inside me.
As I finger myself, it’s too damn easy to get lost in a fantasy of Dexter tying me to a St. Andrew’s cross and flogging me or laying cane stripes across my ass and thighs before sliding what I assume is a nice-sized cock inside me.
With my clit aching over that image, it’s not long before I come to the thought of Dexter being the first vamp I ever let open my tap, so to speak.
I need to get laid.
It’s been way too long since me and the cheetah shifter did our thing. Maybe I should take a stroll through the wolves’ Fight Club and pick me up another friend for a night. Sure, some vamps hang out there, but there are shifters aplenty. I don’t usually like strings-free sex because on the back end of things, I feel sort of empty and lonely.
But I’ve got an itch to scratch now that needs more than a few C-cell batteries’ worth of buzzing.
Stupid vampires and their sex appeal, anyway.
I’m tempted to cancel dinner, but that would be shitty. I don’t like to be shitty to people who don’t deserve it. Yes, I consider the vampires “people.”
And I do want to spend more time with Dexter.
There’s also the bonus that I can put new tires on my SUV next week, thanks to Dexter. The old 4Runner is reliable, runs great, and isn’t flashy. It doesn’t draw attention to me. It’s practical. I can get parts for it in nearly every area of the country. It can hold all my important shit when I move. It’s also nondescript and blends in, its own subtle camouflage.
Could I have afforded tires a long time ago? Yes, but I’m very tight with my budgeting. I’m actually building up my funds because I splurged to have the engine and transmission overhauled on the 4Runner last year, meaning it’ll last me several more years into the future.
I don’t like to spend money when I can squirrel it away in case I have to run. I spent way too many years lean and practically starving—financially speaking—to blow it. I remember the perpetual stress on Mom’s face, how she had to literally fight to feed us sometimes.
When waitressing wasn’t paying the bills, and she couldn’t find a job teaching a flavor of martial arts that she was skilled in, she’d pick up quick cash in underground fight clubs. Not difficult for a woman who was an expert mixed martial arts fighter and a trained stuntwoman.
When I was little, I used to think it was badass that my mom could do that. The older I got, the more I realized it sucked that she couldn’t be a normal mom. It was why I worked my ass off to get my GED so early, meaning I was one less stress on her plate, and I could usually pick up cash to help us out by waiting tables or washing dishes at the same places she worked.
I grab my cell phone on my way to the bathroom. As I’m sitting there, I take it out of Do Not Disturb mode and find I have a text from Garrett Green.
Lucius called me. Can we talk? Call me when you wake up.
My stomach tightens. He knows I work nights and sleep mornings. Might as well do this now. When I call, he answers almost immediately.
“Hey, Connie.” It’s what I told him he and the other wolves can call me, just like Lucius’ inner circle thinks my name’s Connie Doe. It’s what’s on my fake ID.
It was easier than trying to have them remember the wig rule, and I wasn’t going to tell them my full, real name. It’s close enough to “Connover” that I can remember to respond when addressed like that.
“Garrett. What’s up?”
He plunges right into the topic. “I talked to Lucius overnight. Said he’s got someone he’d like me to talk to. Leech from Atlantic City who’s looking to relocate to Tucson. Guy named Dexter Van Sussex.”
My heart sinks. “I only met him last night.” I don’t lie to shifters or vamps. I either tell them the truth or keep my mouth shut. Besides, in person, they can both tell I’m lying, so it’d be stupid. Makes it easy to keep my story straight if I don’t have to remember a lie. They know this about me, so it helps with them trusting me.
“What’s your impression of him?”
I relax. Lucius didn’t throw me to the wolves in a literal way. “He didn’t get handsy with me. Wasn’t improper with me. Seems like a decent guy, but I’m not risking my reputation vouching for him when I just met him.”
“I told Lucius I’d meet with Van Sussex, if you came with.”
Well, fuck. I close my eyes and rub my forehead. “How’d I end up in the middle of a casino deal? I’m just a bartender and errand girl.”
He snorts, sounding every bit like the Alpha wolf he is. “That’s bullshit, and you and I both know it. You’re way more than that. Amber even says so.”
My eyes pop open. Sometimes, Amber sees things. Yes, like a psychic. Next to Selene, she’s also my best friend.
One of my only friends. “What’d she say?”
“That you’re a good person I can always trust. So, will you?”
“Garrett, I’m honored, seriously. But I cannot and will not vouch for him.” I’m desperate not to go out after dark, either.
“Not asking you to vouch for him. I’ll make the decision or not, and nothing will splash back on you. I just want to see how he acts with you.”
Huh? “Why?”
“Because I know Lucius’ men are terrified of crossing you since you’re Lucius’ and Selene’s favorite feral human.” He lets out a throaty, rumbly chuckle. “Can’t call you a pet, since you aren’t. Lucius said Van Sussex showed up already prepared to talk to me. He didn’t assume he could just clear it with Lucius and move into the area. I like that show of respect, and as much as I hate Lucius, I like that he’s looping me in. I’m not eager about more leeches moving into the area, but if Van Sussex wants to throw my pack some cash and make assurances, I’m willing to listen. I’d be a stupid businessman not to.”
“Even though you don’t like Lucius?”
“I don’t have to like him. I do trust Selene. Amber told me this morning that the future of not only our pack, but of all packs, and the leeches, depends on whether or not Lucius and I can maintain this truce and work together. As much as I hate to admit it, that’s way bigger than both of us.”
“She had a vision about it?”
“Yeah.”
Wow. “Did you tell Lucius that?”
“I did. He agrees it’s better for business for all of us to work together.”
Now that Garrett and Lucius are on the same page, if I refuse the Alpha’s request, I’m placed in a very untenable position.
Fuck.
“Then there’s the fact that I know you are immune to the leeches’ thrall,” he adds. “I want you there when I talk to him, just in case.”
Double fuck. Guess that settles it. “When and where?”
“Tomorrow night at Fight Club. Ten?”
My heart sinks. Again, this isn’t something negotiable. His tone tells me that. I can’t ask him to go to Club Toxic without clearing that with Lucius first. Even if I did, I suspect Garrett’s answer would be no.
Dexter’s coming to him—that means it happens on Garrett’s turf.
So to speak. Technically, Fight Club is in neutral territory. It’s run by one of Garrett’s pack but technically not on pack land, so they have plausible deniability should anything happen.
I know I won’t be able to go there before dark and spend all night there. I don’t want the wolves knowing more of my secrets than necessary. “Sure. Just to be clear, this is you asking me and not Lucius or Dexter asking you to ask me, right?”
“Right.”
Well, damn. “All right. I guess we’ll see you there.”
“Excellent. If anything changes between now and then, please let me know. Oh, hold on. Amber wants to say hi.” He passes
the phone to her.
“Hey, girl!” Amber sounds way too chipper for this time of morning. Until I remember it’s after lunch for everyone not on the same schedule I am.
“Hey. What’s up?”
She laughs. “Have fun at dinner tonight.”
I suppress a groan. “Did you see it?”
“Sure did. Look, let this play out. I don’t know more than that. Trust him, and trust yourself. I don’t see anything bad for you with this guy.”
My heart races. “You…don’t?”
“No. I mean, I can’t tell yet if you two end up together, but he’s not going to harm you. I get a sort of chivalrous knight vibe from him. Oh, and enjoy the tires.”
I laugh. Being friends with someone who’s psychically endowed can be trippy. “Thanks, I will, once I get them.”
She giggles. “Suuure. That. Your instincts about him are right. Trust them. Here’s Garrett.”
Trying not to get my hopes up over her words, I push past them as Garrett speaks again. “Connie?”
“Yeah.”
“So, I’ll see you both at ten tomorrow night at Fight Club?”
He can’t order me around because I’m not in his pack, but I know an Alpha order when I hear it. “Yeah. Please warn your guys, so they don’t get pissed off at me for showing up with him, okay?” I don’t want to ruin my rep with them.
“We allow leeches. You know that. Just not in the cage.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want them thinking I’m suddenly more on one side than the other.”
“Ah, gotcha. I’ll tell everyone I asked you to accompany him as a personal favor to me. No worries.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want an escort here tomorrow and home?”
I ponder that and then opt for the obvious. “What’s Amber say?”
Without hesitation, I hear him pull the phone from his face and ask. Then he’s back. “She says you’re supposed to ride with Dexter. That it’s safe.”
Terrific. “Then…I guess that’s what I’ll do. Thanks.” Once the call ends, I finish what I was doing and get up to wash my hands.
Then I look in the mirror.
Hell.
My hair, which hangs past my shoulders, is now a solid black so deep and rich it practically shimmers with blue undertones in the bright sunlight streaming through my bathroom window. My hair hasn’t turned this color in a while. My eyebrows match.
You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but no.
I’m sure it’s also one of the reasons Mom homeschooled me, even if I didn’t realize it at the time, and she always downplayed it.
The fact that she told me never to tell anyone it happened only reinforces that belief.
I run my fingers through it, holding locks up in front of my eyes.
Hell, I even give it a tug, just in case.
Ow. Fucker.
Okay, then. Definitely not imagining it.
If my hair stays this color, I won’t have to wear a wig tomorrow night. For tonight, I’ll be Blue again. What I really should do right now, though, is laundry. I throw on clothes, strip my bed, grab the towels out of the bathroom and everything else from the hamper, and carry the basket downstairs to the laundry room. A benefit of my oddball schedule is that during weekdays, I practically have the laundry room to myself.
I start two loads—towels and sheets in one, and clothes in the other because everything’s dark anyway—and set a timer on my phone before I head upstairs.
Another benefit of having a shifter landlord and having plenty of them in residence in the building is it’s probably the safest building anywhere around. No one would dare steal someone’s clothes from the laundry room. Even the clueless humans who live here who don’t know about shifters know better than to step a toe out of line.
It’s nice.
It’s safe.
Yeah, I know. Don’t get my hopes up, right?
I spend a few minutes tidying my bedroom-slash-living room-slash-dining room, including running my Dustbuster after I sweep the floor to pick up anything I might have missed. Then I grab myself a yogurt for breakfast and walk over to the windows to stand there to eat.
I love the view. The previous tenant apparently used a free-standing room divider screen in front of the windows to shade the bed from morning sun on the weekends. Garrett told me I could hang curtains or shades if I wanted, but no.
I want the morning daylight. The price on the tiny apartment was right, too. No one from the club’s ever been to my apartment, human or vampire. Not that vampires could come over because of the treaty, but I’m not stupid enough to invite any vampires in, not even Lucius and Selene.
Trust…but verify.
Or, in my case, trust but take no chances.
Trust comes hard for me. Damned hard.
I clean my bathroom and then head back to the laundry room to move my clothes into the dryer. In my apartment, while I’m waiting, I decide to do a little snooping of my own and open my laptop.
There’s not a lot of info available about Dexter Van Sussex. He runs a casino in Atlantic City. There are some pictures of him, which confuses me until I look closer and realize he’s using a body double.
Not unheard of for vamps to do that when they have to be in the public eye.
I mean, come on, no reflection. Vampires will show up on IR and FLIR and trigger motion sensors. Regular video and photos? Nope. Sometimes, you’ll get an unrecognizable blur but never a clear picture. And the mirror thing? Totes true. That’s why the only two mirrors in Club Toxic are in the nightclub bathrooms on the ground floor. Mostly because it’d be weird if they didn’t have mirrors in there.
I head down to the exercise room and run a couple of miles on the treadmill. I hate to exercise, and I’m usually on my feet during a shift at work, but I don’t want to lose my edge. I frequently spar and train with a bear shifter over at Fight Club when it’s closed, but right now, he’s out of town. I don’t like to spar with humans because even with guys bigger than me, I tend to overwhelm them and freak them out.
It’s a reasonably safe bet some of the shifters who know I can physically take care of myself are hoping I’ll one day go rogue and stake every vamp in Club Toxic.
No, that won’t happen. Live and let live.
Believe me, I get it. I understand why there are plenty of shifters who don’t like vampires. There are a lot of vampires I don’t like, either. But we have to build bridges somewhere. Maybe Tucson will one day be seen as the start of a new era of cooperation.
When I finish my workout, I grab my clean laundry from the dryer, fold everything, and head upstairs to take a shower and start getting ready. It’s not even four yet, but I always have something to do at the club. Might as well arrive early.
Before dark.
After my shower, I get dressed and decide to put on heavier makeup than I usually wear when I’m working, followed by my wig. One final check in the mirror, and “Blue” is ready. I grab a comfy pair of PJ pants and flip-flops and tuck them into a duffel bag, along with a light blanket and a pillow.
I gave serious thought to dressing up for Dexter. I have a pair of black Jimmy Choo pumps in my closet, shoes I hardly ever get to wear. I honestly don’t even know why I still have them. They were given to me a few years ago as a gift, and I haven’t been able to bring myself to sell them. Hell, they literally look brand new.
It’s not like I date. I don’t dress up for work because the last thing I want to do is draw too much attention from vampires. But sometimes, for my errands, it requires I wear a cocktail dress or other formal attire to fit in, and the shoes come in handy. I’ve also been known to occasionally play a girlfriend for a shifter who needs a date to a family wedding or other event and who wants to keep their family off their back. Safer than bringing a clueless human with them, and I can play the role.
Not tonight, though. I’m wearing jeans tonight—my Docs and a black Club Toxic tee with a neon blue logo. I thought about wearing a sk
irt, but I’d rather have the extra protection.
Of course, a layer of stone-washed denim won’t stop a determined vampire any more than garlic and a silver crucifix, but it makes me feel better.
Grabbing my stuff, I lock my apartment door and head downstairs. I’m busy paying attention to my surroundings as I leave the building and cross the sunbaked parking lot, angling toward my Toyota. Which is why I pull up short when I’m a few feet away, the smell of fresh rubber wrinkling my nose. And…
What.
The.
Actual.
Fuuuck?
There are four new tires on my 4Runner.
I’m legit having trouble processing this, which is why it takes me a moment to snap back into awareness. I glance around, but there’s no sign of a mechanic, or AAA dude, or…
Shitballs.
They’re Pirellis, too, which are hella expensive.
Reaching out with my right foot, I toe the rear driver’s tire with my Docs and confirm the new rubber isn’t an illusion. I circle my SUV—yep, all four tires—five, counting the spare mounted on the back—are new.
That’s when I realize it’s also been detailed on the outside, including waxed as best it can be given the condition of the paint in places. And my headlamp housings, which were all hazy and yellowed, have been treated and polished and practically look like new.
There aren’t any cars on either side of me, and weren’t when I parked, so it would’ve been easy to accomplish without moving my 4Runner.
Dexter.
It has to be him.
I can’t imagine Lucius would invade my privacy like this. For starters, if he was going to have it done, he’d tell me. He’d also have it done while I was at the club, or tell me to take my car in to a garage.
He wouldn’t just…
I shiver, and I’m not sure if it’s from the creep factor or the fact that hunky Dexter cared enough to do this for me.
Or is obsessed enough to do this for me.
Now Amber’s comment about the tires makes sense.
Climbing into my 4Runner, I lock myself inside, crank it, and turn the AC on full blast before calling Amber’s cell.
Her Vampire Obsession Page 9