Damian's powers to calm her would come in handy right about now, but what about her determination? What about her own strength? What about the love he claimed to have for her? She didn't want to rely on him to give her the strength she usually felt on her own, didn't want to need him to hold on to her resolve. Most importantly, if he did truly love her and she chose to stay with him, wouldn't she need to learn to handle her fear on her own while in the presence of these people?
Pushing love aside, she thought further. Now that she knew vampires and were-creatures really existed in the world, wouldn't it be better all around to learn to mingle without fear. After all, who knew when she could be walking through the mall and pass a werewolf in human form? It probably happened dozens of times already. Who knew when she could be in a bar and be asked to dance by a sexy guy who turned out to be a vampire? She glanced up at Damian who smiled down at her with his most handsome, most comforting, most heart-melting smile and it only showed a hint of fang. Oh yeah, that one already happened. Little had she known then that she would end up here, on the arm of that man, a head vampire, in the middle of a party for the undead and shifters of the city.
With willpower stronger than she knew she possessed, she forced herself to relax. She pasted a smile to her lips, loosened her grip on Damian's arm and added a slight sway to her step for good measure. Unable to resist, her gaze scanned the crowd. There must be at least a hundred people or more, she decided, all dressed in costume for the holiday. Most, especially the women chose to forgo costumes that required masks. On those faces, she saw the green of envy, the narrowed eyes of dislike.
"Wow! I must be the most unpopular guest at this party tonight." A makeshift dance floor occupied the center of the great room with tables scattered strategically around it and plush sofas lined much of the walls. To reiterate her unpopularity, she continued to get detested looks from the females as Damian led her through the crowd.
"What makes you say that?" Damian leaned down to speak softly in her ear.
Surprised that he heard her over the music and chatter, she looked up at him in wonderment, then shook her head and bit back a grin. Super hearing, she mused. Apparently just one more of his many abilities she would have to get use to. "The I-so-wish-something-really-horrible-would-strike-you-dead-right-now looks I am getting from half of your female guests, and the what's-so-special-about-you-that-got-a-man-like-that looks from the other half."
He stared down at her. For a moment, she thought he hadn't heard her. She used her normal conversation voice. The man had super hearing after all. Why scream to be heard over the music when she didn't have to?
Then he laughed, a sound more sexually jarring than the upbeat song filled of drums and guitar that played through the ballroom.
"Not to worry, my sweet. I am getting the same looks from the male guests." They stopped between two tables at the edge of the dance floor. "It is your beauty that has made us the envy of all here tonight." He brushed his lips in a cursory kiss on her cheek.
Her beauty? Now that wasn't something she heard often. As a matter of fact, she rarely heard a man refer to her looks at all. She looked down at herself. Her gaze immediately landed on more cleavage than she knew she possessed. Push up corsets, what magnificent inventions!
The costume Damian had picked out for her tonight made her look decidedly like a slut or some sort of concubine. Okay, concubine attire or not, she did feel beautiful tonight. Sexy even, desired. Which was exactly what Damian wanted her to feel. The costume also put her very first set of fang marks on perfect display as he said it would. That too was exactly what Damian wanted.
She looked back up at him and found him holding a glass of clear bubbly liquid out for her. "What is this?" She took the glass and held it to her nose. Cool bubbles and a light fruit scent filled her breath.
"Champagne. The very best, of course."
Kailey gazed around as she took a sip. Waiters dressed in the traditional black she now knew to be common of the hotel employees weaved through the party guests, trays filled with glasses perched on their fingertips and held up high for stability. A quick assessment told her that the glasses served by two of the waiters held what looked to be champagne like hers and maybe white wine, while the other waiters, she counted at least five more, served what appeared to be red wine.
"You will want to stick with the clear alcohols tonight, my sweet."
She opened her mouth to ask why but decided to tease him instead. Keep the mood loose, she thought. Maybe she could prevent herself from going all tense again. "Haven't you heard the latest medical studies have found red wine to be good for a woman's heart?"
He buried his lips in her ear again and whispered. "I do not believe those studies tested wine mixed with synthetic blood."
Kailey felt her eyes grow wide as he straightened. He looked down at her with an expression both of apology and amusement. She tried to swallow but realized her throat had gone too dry so she took a long gulp of her champagne instead. So much for keeping it light and for not tensing up again, she thought grimly. Her whole body now felt as stiff as a glass wall. One more punch like that and she would surely shatter like a glass wall too.
"Well," She paused, took another sip from her glass. "Okay. You should probably get me another glass of this champagne—which is fabulous, by the way—because I don't think this one will last long." And, as if he made it materialize in thin air, he handed her a full glass. It took her a moment before she realized he had in fact grabbed her two glasses and sat the second on the table next to them until she emptied the first one.
"I thought you might need a bit of, what is that expression, liquid courage?" he said when she shot him a how-did-you-know look.
"Good call," she said and drained the first glass, turned slightly to sit it on the table behind her. A couple occupied that table and she hesitated, not wanting to clutter someone's space. Then she recognized the female and forgot about the glass. "Jennifer," she said brightly. If felt good to see a familiar face, especially one of the human variety. "I had hoped I would see you here tonight." She didn't realize the truth that statement held until she spoke the words.
"Kailey," the girl said brightly. "Nice to see you again. I take it everything was okay with your room."
"Perfect. Honestly, I can't wait to get back there. I'm not much of a party girl, if you know what I mean."
"Yes, I can see how you would be impatient to return to your room." Jennifer's eyes flicked to the fang marks at Kailey's right breast and the smile on her face faded around the edges. The warmth in her eyes, the same warmth Kailey remembered seeing when Jennifer brought the cart to her room only hours before, went iceberg cold.
What was that about? Kailey wondered. She watched Jennifer closely for several seconds, observed the way a muscle in the girl's jaw jumped, the way her lightly tanned skin seemed to blush with a twinge of—anger? Jealousy? Jennifer was Damian's servant. Could she be mad because Damian fed on Kailey instead of Jennifer before the party? But hadn't Damian said he couldn't feed on Jennifer again yet, that he had others he would feed from instead? Or could it be because of where Damian chose to feed? Kailey wondered aimlessly.
Confusions-r-us, she thought and quickly grew tired of playing twenty questions with herself.
Jennifer finally looked back at Kailey, met her gaze and, yes, Kailey knew in that instant that she guessed right. Jealousy, so thick and consuming that it was nearly a tangible thing, shown clearly in the look. More, Jennifer was in love with Damian. She hadn't let it show, Kailey realized. Earlier in the hotel room, the girl skillfully kept her true feelings for her master hidden. So why was she having such a problem hiding them now?
Because she hadn't believed you would give yourself to him, Kailey thought in a dawn of understanding. Jennifer found the whole situation more laughable than threatening at the time.
"She is lovely, Damian. Where ever did you find her?"
It took Kailey a moment to put the deep voice with the man who
sat at the table with Jennifer. The voice sounded odd, somehow animalistic and she found herself impolitely staring. Black hair, the color of obsidian, sleek and stylishly cut, eyes an odd mix of gray and green with a hint of yellow around the pupil, a long thin face and tanned, flawless skin. The man was indeed eye candy of the sweetest, and yet the strangest, variety. But in those bizarrely colored eyes she saw something dark, dangerous, something that made her pulse beat just a bit faster.
"George," Damian said by way of greeting. His arm slid around Kailey's waist and he pulled her against him. The movement had been slow, calculated as not to draw attention, but a protective move nevertheless.
Kailey felt protected with his arm around her and his body against hers. She relaxed and laid her head on his chest. The fact that she couldn't hear his heartbeat, knew there wouldn't be a heartbeat, should have brought back the fear in her, but it didn't. Not this time. She had truly come to terms with the man, or rather the vampire Damian was, even if he remained skeptical of her acceptance.
George. The name sunk into her mind and swirled around in her head like a bad, toxic smoke. Isn't that what Damian called this man? Isn't that the same name he gave the dog she saw in the lobby?
Not a dog. A wolf, she reminded herself. She carefully studied the man, now more grateful than ever that Damian's arm still clung to her waist. Yes, she could see it, the wolf in this man called George. The hair, though much less of it in human form, had the same silky gleam and the eyes, the strangeness she saw was the beast inside him, the animalistic voice further proof of the beast as well.
"Kailey, my sweet," Damian said softly to capture her attention. "This is George. I believe you saw him earlier this evening walking through lobby in his wolf form." His tone changed with his words and took on a disapproving timbre.
George merely laughed, picked up a glass and sipped. Champagne, Kailey noted. Did only the vampires drink the bloody wine?
"George is the leader of the local wolf pack," Damian continued his introduction. "Several of his wolves also serve as servants to me and my kind as well as our protectors in daylight hours. I am pleased to see that you decided on a costume rather than your wolf form for the party, George."
"Your orders were passed on rather clearly." George's voice sounded full of detest. At Damian, Kailey wondered, or because he had been forced to wear a normal disguise for the evening?
George's costume was nearly as spectacular as his wolf form. A king in materials of red velvet and white lace. Jewelry of silver and gold decorated his fingers, wrists and neck. When he moved his head, she saw silver on his ear as well. A spectacular single silver earring in the shape of a full moon perched on top a cloud dangled from his lobe. The costume seemed apt, Kailey decided, given the man's position as leader of the wolf pack. Yet, he clearly hated wearing it.
"My orders were apparently not clear enough to prevent your perusal through the lobby before the party though. And what of Amaranda? Should I be expecting a little stroll from her through the party this evening? A little something to liven the mood, perhaps?"
"Amaranda will not be attending tonight's little gala. She remains back at the lair where she will stay this evening. Her temper has become," George paused as if choosing his words carefully, "nearly too violent to control. In this I agreed with you. I, too, thought it best that she not be brought to such a public get-together."
"Perhaps a wise move, given the circumstances. Too bad your decisions are not so wise in other areas."
"Come now, Master Damian, George was only enjoying himself," Jennifer said. "No one was frightened or harmed by his quick stroll."
Kailey watched Jennifer, surprised by the girl's playful banter. Could she simply be trying to keep the peace between two men, she wondered. Or was she taking up for George? Kailey didn't know a thing about the politics between vampires, their werewolf servants and human servants, but it didn't seem wise to her to side against one's master.
Yet, Jennifer's behavior wasn't all that struck Kailey as odd. Now that she paid closer attention, the girl's choice of costume seemed very interesting. She had on a queen's wardrobe of red velvet and white lace, fitting her slim and shapely figure, and an obvious match to George's attire.
Kailey looked to Damian, at the raspberry Cavalier shirt he wore under a white trench coat with white slacks, then down at her own raspberry dress that stopped at mid-thigh with a floor-length cape attached at the waist and white lace-up corset she wore. They matched, of course. Damian chose their costumes for that very reason. But who chose George and Jennifer's? Damian? For some reason, Kailey felt certain it hadn't been Damian. Jennifer? George? Why? Did their matching costumes hold some underlying meaning?
Damian simply looked at Jennifer, his face completely devoid of any expression. Kailey thought she would give dammed near anything to know what went through his mind. Too bad she couldn't borrow his mind-invading powers for a few minutes. Instead, she relied on her own body language reading skills. But how did you interpret nothingness?
She watched as his attention shifted briefly back to George, his face remaining as blank as a sheet of paper, then he said in a voice equally blank, "Enjoy the party." His gaze met Jennifer's once more before he turned to Kailey. "Would you care to dance, my sweet?"
Kailey hated dancing, but at that moment, she would have agreed to do the hula or, hell, the Texas two-step if it meant getting away from this table. The tension became so thick it felt suffocating. She quickly drained the second glass of champagne, this time more because it tasted good than simply for the liquid courage, set the glass on the table and allowed Damian to lead her onto the crowded dance floor.
A soft number played with lots of flutes, harps, and the smooth tone of a saxophone. It was far different from the song she’d heard when they first entered the ballroom and, though she hadn't paid much attention to the songs that follow, it was obvious the DJ attempted to please all tastes in music for the party guests tonight.
Damian's hand held hers in a firm but tender grasp as he led her to a dark corner of the dance floor. He never stopped to converse with any of the couples though many tried to talk to him as he passed. He simply nodded, flashed them what Kailey came to think of as his heart-melting smile and kept walking. Once he reached his destination, he turned to face her at the same time pulling her in against him. He was a masterful dancer. Who wouldn't be after centuries of practice? Even with her mediocre dancing skills, as long as she concentrated, she could easily follow his lead.
They danced in silence and for a brief moment she felt like the character of Elise McKenna and Damian that of Richard Collier in the nineteen-eighty romance Somewhere In Time. They were dressed more provocatively, of course, but the music, the dance steps, the setting she pictured so clearly in her mind could be taken right out of the nineteen-twelve era rather then modern time.
When the music changed, slowed even more, he pulled her closer still and erased all distance between their bodies. His dance steps changed from that of the early century to the sway and grind so popular today. He folded himself, molded his body to hers and somehow put their bodies in perfect alignment despite the difference in height. He nuzzled her neck, brushed a kiss over her flesh and allowed his fangs to graze ever so lightly in its wake. "Thank you, my sweet," he whispered.
Perplexed, she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. "For what?"
"Accepting my offer to dance without argument. I know dancing is not something you enjoy."
"That's because I suck at it, you know, two left feet and all that." As if on cue, she faltered, and her foot collided too hard with his instep. Shit, she couldn't even sway without serious concentration less she trample the man's feet. "Shouldn't you be mingling with your guests, playing the perfect host?"
He shrugged and said simply, "I would rather dance with you."
"Yeah and I wanted to stay in the room the rest of the evening, but you insisted we show for this little shindig."
"I did, yes. My being her
e is consequential but it is enough for now just to be seen. Mingling, as you call it, will not be necessary until later in the evening when certain entertainments begin."
And doesn't the night keep getting better and better? "What sort of entertainments?"
"Not to worry. It is simply mundane things to please our guests. Karaoke, costume contests and the likes."
How odd that even the undead found fun in such, what Damian had called it, mundane things. Kailey's worries eased, at least the ones concerning how present company got their party kicks. However, another matter still deserved attention, dammed near demanded focus before she could truly begin to relax. "What's going on with Jennifer?" Her blunt question seemed to catch him by surprise because his step faltered this time.
"Going on, my sweet?"
"Don't be coy, Damian. You didn't get the sudden desire to dance for no reason. You used it as an excuse to get away from George and Jennifer. Why?"
He looked down at her and brushed the backs of his fingers over her forehead, her temple, her cheek before he let his hand fall to her waist again. Can I speak in your mind without angering you, my sweet?
"Only if you have a good reason," she answered and made her tone thick with warning.
I would rather my answer not be heard by all.
"Fine. As long as you get in my head again."
He smiled at that, a wide dazzling but mischievous grin that reached all the way to his eyes and showed the full size of his fangs. "Oh, I do intend to fuck you again more than once before the night is through. Rest assured, however, that it will be my hands on your curvy body, my dick inside your tight, wet hole that you will feel and not simply my voice inside your head."
Kailey blinked up at him. His words, spoken aloud and full of conviction left her speechless. Desire, fierce and molten hot, unfurled low in her belly. Why wait? She wanted to ask but checked her tongue. Her first coherent thought after a promise such as that probably wasn't the best one to voice just yet. Instead, she attempted to put their conversation back on track with a single word made into a question. "Jennifer?"
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