by Alex Owens
He kissed me lightly, slowly, so that by the time he released me my head was swimming. I resisted the urge to grab hold of something to steady myself. I didn’t need him knowing how much he’d affected me; every relationship needs a little bit of mystery.
Clive left the dressing room to get on his tuxedo jacket, shoes and whatever else he needed to do to be completely ready, so I turned my attention back to the mirror. I had a killer dress, which warranted a fully done face. I didn’t think I could go that far, so I settled with a quick smoky-eye, plumping mascara and fully-lined, fire engine red lips.
I was putting the finishing touches on my hair when Clive stepped up behind me and smiled into the mirror. He ran a finger over my shoulder and down my bare arm, bringing goosebumps to my flesh and causing my nipples to tighten into peaks.
“You look amazing,” he practically purred into my ear. “You have healed exceptionally well in such a short amount of time, too.”
I swatted him away. “Thanks, but go away. You’re going to mess up my hair or makeup and then I’ll have to start all over again. Don’t you want me to look perfect hanging on your arm?”
“Of course, but only because I want everyone to envy the man who has you on his arm.” Smooth bastard, he was, and he seemed to be getting smoother every day.
He pulled something out of his pocket and held it aloft. A necklace—but not just any old thing. No, this one had a silver chain absolutely coated in hundreds of tiny diamonds, which hung low down to a smoky black diamond the size of my fist. I could tell by the length that it would hang right at the top of my cleavage. If I had to wear a flashy sign pointing to my tits, then it better cost a fortune. Clive knew me better than I thought.
He fastened the chain around my neck and stood back to see how it looked.
“Not bad,” I said, laughing. “And look, this big black rock is hanging right over my big black heart. You trying to tell me something, Mister?”
“If I was, you wouldn’t listen.”
“Touché’” I replied, mentally pulling that last line apart in ten different ways, trying to figure out what he meant. Of course, I could do the easy thing and ask him. Clive always shot straight from the hip with me, but I wasn’t sure that wanted to know the answer. So instead, I checked myself in the mirror one last time and slipped into my sparkly Louboutin’s.
“Shall we?” Clive extended his elbow and I slipped my arm into his.
“Oh, I forgot to ask,” I pulled on Clive’s arm and he stopped. “Did anyone, uh, say anything about what happened earlier?”
He gave me a boyish grin, “Let’s just say that I’ve had six text messages this afternoon begging for an introduction to you tonight, two emails offering obscene amounts of money to “rent” you for the weekend, and I specifically had to tell two of my people that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to hang out near my bedroom in the hopes of getting hit with another drive-by orgasm.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish. I might have to publically claim you if I’m to have any chance of keeping you all to myself once word gets out beyond these walls.”
The conversation was taking a dangerous turn. Out of everything he’d just said, the commitment aspect worried me the most. I wasn’t ready for anything close to that, and even after all the time we’d spent together, I still felt like I really didn’t know that man that hid behind the vampire façade. It was time to change directions.
“Publically claim me? Didn’t you already do that this afternoon?”
“Exactly, and you see how that worked out.”
God, if I still had decent circulation I’d have been four shades of crimson.
We walked down the long hall and away from his private rooms. I tried to pay attention to all the turns and halls, but I was beginning to think I might need to make myself a map or something. After the fourth turn, and halfway down the fifth hallway, we stopped in front of the largest set of double doors I’d ever seen. They had to be fifteen feet high and twice as wide.
Two brutish vampires stood sentry on either side, looking far too uncomfortable in their monkey suits. Shaved heads, similar enough that they could be brothers, if not twins. Clive introduced them as Hank and Tank, two of his best guards. I still have no idea which one is Hank and which is Tank—but they’re always together, so I guess telling them apart isn’t really necessary, so long as they both kick ass equally.
The goons nodded and opened the doors for us. As we stepped into the great hall, I had to fight the urge to kick off my shoes and run. There were so many people—at least a thousand—and every one of them stopped and stared as we made our way into the room. I mean every single one. Two thousand vampire eyes tracking my every move. The entire room silent and focused on me.
Of course, I’m sure they were looking at Clive too. He was after all their King or President or something. But it certainly didn’t feel that way.
Clive squeezed my hand, but focused his attention on the path opening up in front of us. He nodded to some of the vampires we passed, even shook hands with one or two of them, but for the most part he solemnly marched forward. The hundred yards to the head table felt like it took an eternity. I’d never been so glad to see a decanter of wine in my whole life.
As we claimed our seats, facing the room, Clive leaned in and spoke.
“Relax, just a bit of formality and posturing now and once the wine and blood flows everyone will be much more fun to be around.” A quick peck on my cheek and he stood upright, preparing to address the crowd.
He spoke, but I didn’t hear a damned thing he said. I couldn’t even bring myself to raise my eyes from the wine glass in my hand. I knew if I did, all of those eyes would still be looking at me.
“Slainte!” Clive bellowed and the crowd echoed him.
Raised glasses chinked, everyone took their seats and dinner was served. By dinner, I mean giant decanters of wine, wine mixed with blood, champagne and blood, hard liquor and blood. There was actual food presented—raw Kobe beef, rare filet mignon strips and blood sausage— passed around on little trays by completely naked human servers. Not a vegetable to be found, not that anyone noticed but me. Call it the Mom curse.
While we sat and nibbled and drank, I began to look around for anyone I might know. But that was silly. I knew exactly three vampires in the whole world, and one of those had his hand on my knee. The other two were somewhere across the Atlantic.
“Hey, isn’t that that actor? You know the one who played that Vampire rock star or something in that movie?” I pointed to a very Hollywood-looking man standing off to one side of the expansive room. He wore no shirt, only a dark velvet blazer and leather pants, which judging by the handful of women fawning over him, seemed to work for him. It was not my cup of tea, though.
Clive turned to see who I was pointing at, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Fucking Dave.”
I quirked an eyebrow at Clive. “Fucking Dave? Is he that bad?”
“No, but he’s like a bad penny. Always turning up.” Clive sipped his dinner. “He’s one of those idiots that shows up every few decades and manages to find himself in the spotlight. After a while, when people start to notice that he doesn’t age, he stages his own death and drops off the map, only to show up again years later in the most random places. Most vamps don’t like him because he always skirts the public eye and getting noticed isn’t a good thing for us. Hence... fucking Dave.”
“I get it. So you’re going to introduce me, right? I mean, he is a movie star and all that.” I smiled and fluttered my eyelashes at Clive.
“Uh, that’s a negatory. No way am I letting you anywhere near that SOB.” Clive scanned the room for a moment and tried to ignore the face I was giving him.
I pretended to be annoyed, but I really wasn’t. Fucking Dave didn’t sound like anyone I’d be interested in knowing, but it was fun to pull Clive’s pigtails every now and again.
“See that couple at your three o’clock? Green leisure suit a
nd the furs?” Clive said while slipping his hand further up my leg, to stroke my thigh.
I casually glanced in that direction, ignoring his roaming fingers. “Do you mean Shrek and Cruella?”
He spit his wine across the table. Oops.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said to nobody in particular.
To me, he nodded. “Yes. Remember the task I mentioned earlier?”
I nibbled on my lip and nodded.
“Well, the one you called Shrek is the Vampire regent of Texas. His name is Marlon Darling and that lovely waif is his wife, Priscilla. I’ve long suspected that Marlon is trafficking something in or out of the country, via the Mexican border, but I’ve been unable to confirm exactly what. Whatever he is doing is dangerous for all Vampires, because his operation is too large to go unnoticed for much longer. With his ties to the vampire community, he could take out half of the regents with him, if he’s exposed.”
I leaned closer to Clive, intrigued. “And what is the gray-area something that you’d like me to do?”
I swear, he almost blushed. “Can you get close enough to get a read on him, uh ... and maybe get a little closer from there?”
I frowned, “Come again?”
“Hear me out.” Clive shushed me. “Priscilla has carried a torch for me...”
“Carried a torch?” I laughed into my hand. “God, you’re old.”
Clive rolled his eyes. “As I was saying, I need to get her alone but Marlon does not permit her to leave his side. He’s a very jealous man. I need you to distract him, roll him if you must, but monopolize all of his attention. Better yet, if you can get him to upset her, it would be perfect. I can be waiting in the wings when she runs off—you know, for a shoulder to cry on.”
“Fine, but you’ll owe me.” I scowled and glanced around the room.
Clive tapped his fingers on the table and I looked back at him. He looked at me expectantly.
“Oh, you mean now?” I asked.
“If it suits you, of course.” That was his sarcastic way of saying, of course right now.
“Fine.” I stood and pushed back my chair. Picked up my small beaded clutch and walked in the direction of my target. When I was about five feet from the table, I dropped my purse casually. I made a show of cursing as I spun on my heels and bent at the waist pick it up, knowing that Mr. Darling was about to get an eyeful.
Clive’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. He asked me to get the man’s attention, but I was willing to bet he hadn’t quite counted on the way I went about it. Serves him right; he should have been more specific with his instructions.
I suppressed a smirk, and instead took my time standing back upright. If the emotional wave of jealousy pulsing behind me was any indication, Priscilla was more than ticked that her mate couldn’t take his eyes off of my ass. Perfect.
Turning, I locked eyes with the oddly-shaped man and made a bead straight for him. While approaching my target, I pushed out a blast of desire to ensure I’d captured Mr. Darling’s full attention. He stood as I approached, knocking over his wine glass and cursing. Blood red wine dripped over the edge of the table, which gave me a good idea. Or maybe it was a bad one, but how the hell was I supposed to know. I went with it either way.
“Sorry for the commotion,” I purred as I picked up the errant wine glass and frowned. “Let me take care of your refill, as my way of apologizing.”
Without waiting for my mark to respond, I set the glass upright on the table. Holding my left wrist over the glass, I expertly sliced my pale flesh with the flick of a fingernail and let my blood run into his glass until it was nearing half-full. I pressed my lips to my bleeding wrist, snagged a bottle of champagne from a passing waiter, and topped the glass off with a little of the bubbly stuff.
Mr. Darling stared at me with his mouth hanging open. His wife was ready to combust into flames. So I did what comes naturally to me; I made things worse for her, but better for myself, and by default, Clive.
I swirled my finger into the contents of the glass to mix it, then pulled my finger out and inserted it into my own mouth. A dainty little moan escaped my lips as I sucked the blood and champagne concoction from my finger. I so could have been a b-grade actress.
“Um, so good,” I purred, leaning closer to Mr. Darling. “You just have to have a taste.”
I raised the cup to his lips and he drank greedily, licking the rim of the glass when he was done. His tongue reminded me of a lizard and I had to fight showing any repulsion on my face. Believe me, it wasn’t easy.
“Really, Marlon?” Pricilla whined and pointed to the bulge in her husband’s pants. There was a tiny tent there alright.
He waved a dismissive hand in her direction.
“I’m Claire,” I held out my hand to him.
He took it, pressing his mealy lips to my tender flesh. I fought the urge to pull my hand out of his grasp. I needed the contact for what I was about to do. The blood would probably help, I thought, but contact always made it easier.
“My pleasure, Claire. I’m Marlon Darling, Emperor of Texas.” He grinned wickedly, licking his lips. No doubt hoping I’d think he was important enough to become a notch in my bedpost.
“Ooh, Emperor! Such a powerful, handsome man. Why, you must break hearts wherever you go,” I batted my eyelashes and smiled.
I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know what he was thinking right then, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to know other things and getting past the current thoughts unscathed were not likely. But I’d left myself no choice, and I had to hurry before Mrs. Darling decided that she’d had enough and tried to separate my head from my body.
He preened like a rooster, standing taller and pulling me closer toward him. He obviously had no concept of personal space, which worked well for me I supposed. I took the moment to loosen my mental barriers and what hit me first was repulsive.
I don’t think I can rehash the details without throwing up in my mouth, so let’s just say he was thinking about me and a rack of torture, and let’s just leave it at that. I pushed further into his mind and quickly found what I was looking for. And it was a doozy.
Mrs. Darling stood and pushed back her chair with enough force that it fell backwards with a thud. People nearby were beginning to turn and stare. I felt a wave of concern coming from Clive and I knew my time was up.
I pulled my hand from Mr. Darling’s grip and backed up a few steps. “Well, it was nice meeting you both. I’ve got to get back, it appears my man is getting jealous.”
I turned and winked at Clive, effectively settling him down.
To say the Darlings were a bit windswept by the way I approached, and then retreated, would be an understatement. As I walked away there was slight pause, then all hell broke loose behind me. Mainly in the form of Mrs. Darling screeching at her husband and Mr. Darling having no logical way to defend himself. It was pretty comical, even to me.
I joined Clive back at his table and sat down quietly. I didn’t look at him, only offered a slight smile. Patience wasn’t his strong suit either.
“Well,” he leaned over and said under his breath, “that didn’t go as planned. I thought you were going to chase her away?”
I sipped my wine, drawing out the suspense just a bit longer. I was never able to resist playing with my food, even as a child.
“Didn’t need to.” I said.
Clive’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his head, so I decided to throw him a bone. “Chill, I’ve got your information.”
He looked flabbergasted. “You do? How?”
I pretended to look around the room, saying under my breath, “How do you think? I give good head.”
It was only after detecting a sudden flare of anger from Clive that I realized how that sounded. Damn me and my dirty little mind. I quickly added to my explanation. “Not that kind, pervert. I mean the mental shit I do.”
He relaxed, the tension flowing out of him. Interesting. I’d never known Clive to be a jealous man, so I wo
ndered if that said something about the evolving state of our relationship. If so, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.
“You can thank me now,” I offered up my cheek for a kiss.
He gladly gave it. “Thank you. Though, I’m not sure what I’m thanking you for yet.”
“You will, it’s just not a good time to discuss it. I don’t want to chance anyone overhearing what I have to say. Later?” I said, rubbing his thigh lightly.
Clive agreed, and for the next hour or so we sat and gossiped about the other ball attendees. Finally, he said that he needed to make the rounds as was customary, and that maybe I should do the same, just to see what the other Vamps were saying when he wasn’t within ear shot. We both stood and went our separate ways.
I spent the next few hours drifting around the large banquet hall, dropping in on conversations and trying to be the little fly on the wall. The problem with that was that every flipping person in attendance knew who I was, so being inconspicuous was not an option. I fielded so many questions about Clive and my own background that it was starting to make me grumpy. Like hours-past-dinner grumpy.
Worse, I knew what the thinly veiled questions and comments really meant. How had I, a nobody from no-where’s-ville, managed to snag such an important, handsome vampire? Clive usually likes his women tall, svelte and blonde, he sure went outside of his comfort zone this time. Who’s your maker again? Bette, as-in the head of Western Europe Bette? Wow, you sure are one well-connected baby Vamp.
That last one stung the most. They were implying that I’d slept my way into a position of power on purpose. But I could hardly defend myself by explaining I’d had no idea who Bette and Clive were in the grand scheme of things before I’d slept with either of them. If I said that, I’d still be a whore, just a little less of a scheming one. Eff my life.
“There you are.” Clive stepped closer and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I’ve been watching you making the rounds. Flitting around like a social butterfly... laughing, smiling, flirting. You’ve become the Belle of the ball. And I’m not sure that I like it.”