by Michele Hauf
“Huh. And you’ll show me how to enthrall a victim?”
“It’s easy once you accept that your mind is a powerful tool.”
“I see.” She looked out the window when he was about to turn. “No, not that alley. It’s too dark and creepy.”
“We want dark and creepy, Belladonna.” Ivan pulled the car into the alley.
“Yeah, but I don’t think I can do dirty homeless guys or drunks.”
“For tonight, you will take what we can find.” He scanned the street as the car rolled smoothly over the tarmac. There weren’t any flesh-and-blood humans out and about.
“What, besides being a vampire, do you do, Ivan?”
“I serve on the Council.”
“Severo said that is some kind of council of vampires, witches and werewolves that oversees the paranormal nations.”
“In a nutshell, yes. We have members from all species on the Council, but when there is an issue, it’s usually only the representative nations that show.”
“So are they discussing the divide between the werewolves and vampires now?”
“There have been suggestions of ways to bring the two nations to terms. Perhaps arranged marriages between principle players in each nation. Nothing’s come of it yet. Of course, if Severo openly takes a vampire as a mate, that can only be a good thing.”
“So we’re to be an example?”
“Only if Severo chooses to allow it. He’s very private.”
“He is. Says his kind has to hide from humans. But you seem outgoing. What do you do beyond serving on the Council?”
“I’m a philanthropist.”
“Are all immortals rich?”
“Depends on how you manage your money. If you’re going to live forever, you’d better learn, because I can’t imagine doing the homeless thing for long. What is your profession, Belladonna?”
She liked that he used her complete name. The man was too charming for a creature. Nix that, she thought. He was no creature. He was a kind man who happened to be a vampire.
“I work from home designing web sites. It’s enough to get by. And I also dance flamenco.”
“A dancer? I figured you for some kind of athlete. You have a gorgeous body.”
“Thanks.” And she accepted the compliment for what it was. Not a flirtation. She did feel a connection to Ivan, but nothing sexual, despite their intimacies.
“So tell me how you and Severo met. I bet he didn’t find you dancing in a club. Don’t think the guy does the scene all that much.”
“A gang of vampires was chasing me, and Severo pulled me into hiding while they searched for me. He intended to do exactly as the vampires wanted once they found me. But he didn’t.”
“The werewolf is an interesting breed. But fiercely devoted to their mates.”
“You say that, but how can they remain devoted to those not their breed?”
“Give him a chance, Bella. What do you say about stopping by a dance club before we find your next donor? There’s an underground tapas bar close by. If you like flamenco, it’d be your kind of place.”
“You want to dance instead of hunt?”
“Might take the edge off your nerves.”
She clasped her shaky fingers together. “You noticed?”
He smiled. “Let’s stop in and see what’s up.”
* * *
She was dressed for the club. A knee-length black velvet skirt with ruffles down the back that spilled to her ankles. And a leotard top, also in black. It was the only stuff Bella had taken to Ivan’s, and it had felt right to go all black for her first hunt.
The club was underground, very small and dark like a cave. Ivan led her in, but Bella eagerly followed the music, which already had her snapping her fingers and rotating her wrists with the urge to dance.
“The atmosphere here reminds me of the Caveau de la Huchette,” he said to her. “A little underground club in the Latin Quarter of Paris. Tourist trap, but they play some great jazz and swing. I’ll get us some wine.”
“I’ll have water, please.”
She didn’t need the wine to loosen up. Just walking into the room relaxed her. Here were her kind of people. Besides, Bella wasn’t so sure wine wouldn’t make her sick. She’d not eaten for days—except for the blood. And that suited her fine.
Ivan returned and pressed a cool glass into her hand. “They’re all vamps,” he said. “Save the faerie over in the corner.”
She spied the grizzled old man, his front teeth missing, enthusiastically doing palmas. A faerie? She would never look at people the same again.
It was a comfortable crowd and they all took turns on the small dance floor. Right now a couple danced sevillanas to a quick beat. Castanets trilled and the singer encouraged palmas.
She tilted back the water and licked the cool liquid from her lips. “Do they know I’m a vampire?” It felt surprisingly empowering to say the word.
Ivan’s soft chuckle carried over the Spanish rhythm. “Vampires don’t know one another unless they touch.”
“Then how do you know they’re all vamps?”
“Because I’ve been here before, and the faces are familiar.”
He touched her arm, clasping his fingers around the flesh. A thrilling shiver traveled her veins. Not a sexual shiver, but one of…knowing. “Feel that?”
“Yes. What is that?”
“We call it the shimmer.”
“Appropriate. So unless I see fangs or touch another vampire, I have no way of knowing? Nor does the other vamp?”
“Exactly. Comes in handy once in a while.”
“Good to know. So do you dance at all?”
“Not this stuff. I’m more a waltz kind of guy.”
“Romantic. I’m going to have to meet your wife someday.”
“I know she’d like meeting you.”
The rhythm wasn’t about to release Bella from its hold. She twisted her free hand before her and stomped her feet to the beat. The guitarist strummed a bulería. Bella loved this fast, demanding rhythm.
“Hold this,” she said to Ivan. He took her glass, and she headed out to the dance floor.
* * *
The air in the cavelike club expanded and caressed at the same time. Bella did a golpe across the stone floor in her high heels. Not the best shoes to perform flamenco in, but they would serve in a pinch. Raising her arms, she rotated her wrists and played the sensual music through her body.
For a while she danced by herself, beating out the rhythm with a tilt of her hip or an exact heel-toe. One man joined her. He was older, probably sixty, but fit and tanned. He approached, stiff and cocky, a bullfighter striding up to challenge the bull. And she was his cape.
Bella loved the game of the dance. She circled him, fingers lifting her skirt only slightly, because it was already so short in front. Elbows high, she spun her back to him and clicked out a few beats before they both spun to face one another.
He smiled and winked. She tried to keep a solemn face, but she was enjoying this too much and let out laughter as the two of them spun and repeated the move the opposite way.
Dancing with a fellow vampire. How surreal had life become?
A glimpse of Ivan found him doing palmas with half a dozen other men who stood by the walls. Vampires, all of them? Yes, the room hummed with a presence she felt a part of.
As an introduction to her new life, this night rated high on the scale. How wise of Ivan to bring her here, to a place where she would feel comfortable and safe.
She didn’t understand Spanish but knew from her dance studies that the singer spoke of love, loss, struggle and renewal. It was how all the flamenco songs were. Tragic, sorrowful, but always expressing a lively connection to life.
Bella fancied she could feel the blood rushing through the veins of each and every person in the room. It invigorated her. It made her feel alive.
She wanted more of it in her mouth. The pulse of hot blood danced a beat upon her tongue, at the back of her thro
at. In her body.
Suddenly she was tugged from the dance floor. A firm hand about her upper arm took her captive. She butted up against a hard body but did not feel the shimmer.
The male dancer stomped up to whoever held her, his arms held defiantly back so his chest puffed up in a challenging pose.
“She’s mine,” growled the one who held her.
“Severo?” He was supposed to be in a motel, waiting for her. “What are you doing?”
His breath hot near her ear, Severo whispered harshly, “You never dance for me, sweet.”
He pulled her from the dance floor, past Ivan, who did not make a move to intervene, and up the stairs outside. Nondescript brick walls sandwiched them in darkness. Snowflakes fluttered softly.
“How did you know where to find me?” She tugged from his grip and walked away a few paces. The air was cold tonight. She could see her breath, yet she was flushed with warmth and the adrenaline soaring through her system. “That was rude!”
“I scented you.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Am I forever destined to unfinished dances with men?”
He bowed his head and ran fingers through his hair. “Sorry. I… He was so close to you.”
“Here’s a reminder for you. We were dancing. You know that. You’ve seen those same moves before. Jeez, jealous much?”
“I am.” He stepped in front of her, without touching. Dark eyes held hers, searching; then he looked down and stepped away. “I thought you’d call to come home this evening. When you did not, I wanted to find you. Quite a surprise to discover you dancing when you are supposed to be learning a life skill.”
“Ivan thought it would relax me.”
“And did it?”
“Severo, don’t do this. Hey, Ivan. Sorry about that little scene.”
The vampire stopped in the doorway and leaned a shoulder against the frame. He didn’t say anything. Wine tainted his breath. But nothing could overwhelm the scent of Severo’s rage.
Suffering humiliation was no way to end the evening.
“I’ll be in the car,” Bella said and stalked down the alleyway.
* * *
Both men listened, heads bowed, as the click of Bella’s heels took her to the end of the alleyway. Severo breathed in heavily through his nose and shook his head.
He owed Ivan an apology. He owed Bella one, too. But he’d been taken off guard. He’d expected her to tag along behind this vampire, learning how to drink blood. Then to find her dancing so suggestively with a stranger?
Okay, so it was not suggestive in Bella’s mind. But to him, any closeness she experienced with another male disturbed him. Would he never learn?
And yet she had never danced for him. Would she ever give him a private concert? He’d love that. It was a part of her that still belonged to the mortal realm, a part he wanted to preserve as much as she probably did.
“I need to apologize,” he started.
Ivan stepped into the street. “It’s fine. It’s not going to be easy.”
“You were supposed to teach her.”
“After she mentioned she was a dancer, I thought this little aside would relax her. She was very nervous.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll take her home now.”
“She hasn’t taken human blood yet. I’ll want to supervise. Why don’t you come along. We’ll find a donor and she can get over her hesitation.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t…”
“Watch? You don’t have to. But having you close by may mean more to her than you can imagine.”
* * *
Ivan pointed to a lone man walking down the alley. He looked young, in his twenties—perhaps he was a college guy—and clean. Bella’s only requirement.
She glanced to Severo. He approved with a barely perceptible nod.
The threesome loitered at the alley entrance, Bella between Severo and Ivan. She hadn’t spoken to Severo since he’d dragged her out of the club. Now, though, she looked to him and gave him a not-quite smile.
“You’re not going to watch?”
Severo shook his head. But he was glad to sense that she was as uncomfortable with this as he was. And then he admonished himself for such thinking. Of course she was uncomfortable. She was new at this.
And here he stood, participating in something so far from his comfort zone. It opened the doors of memory to another vampiress, dressed all in black, looking pale and hungry.
But Evie had once saved him.
He knew Bella would never harm him or his kind. He had to look beyond the past. Give her his presence and be strong for her.
“I’m ready,” she said to Ivan and stepped down the alley.
Though his arms reached out to pull her back, Severo did not call out. He would simply be here, in case she should need him. A witness. A supporter.
“I can do this,” he murmured.
The skirt swung from her hips and about her knees. Long legs in spike heels put Severo in instant lust mode. Those legs should be wrapped about his hips right now.
Yes, even as he fought the repulsion, he craved the woman he had fallen in love with. She was sashaying so sexily toward another man. A human she would put her hands on and talk to sweetly. She would take a part of the mortal stranger inside her. So deeply. The act of drinking blood was wickedly sexual.
Severo shifted his shoulder around the corner and pressed his back to the wall so he could not watch. He knew Ivan would step in if Bella needed assistance.
“She takes to this so easily,” he said hoarsely.
“The hunger overwhelms the most rigid inhibitions,” Ivan told him. “I know you don’t want to be here, Severo, but you need to watch. It’ll show you what she is.”
He knew what she was. Severo had seen vampires drink blood from victims time and time again. And he’d seen them murder and maim for no reason other than for the macabre joy of it.
What of the blood on your hands?
Those vampires he’d killed tonight had deserved to die.
“She’s not like those you hate,” Ivan whispered. “She never will be. I’m going closer. She needs guidance.”
His back against the wall and his eyes closed, Severo listened, trying to hear beyond his own pounding heartbeats.
Bella cooed to the man, who said things like, “You’re hot” and “My place is close.”
Jerk, Severo scoffed.
It was a strange departure from that first night he’d rescued her, while the vampires had searched the warehouse. Her heart had pattered like a bird’s. Then she’d been so frightened. Now she was so eager.
Releasing his clenched fists, Severo reminded himself that this was part of the deal. She had to come in close contact with humans, unlike him, who put as much distance between them and himself as possible.
And now he had a vampire in his life. A longtooth.
The taint of blood carried to him. Beer and fast food littered the human’s scent. Unappetizing. He wondered if Bella liked the taste. It would kill him if she did.
Turning, he crept around the building. Bella was silhouetted before the man, whose legs buckled. Ivan stood on the other side, his hand to Bella’s shoulder.
It was like some kind of twisted sex scene. A ménage à trois Severo had no desire to join. And yet…
When she tilted her head back in pleasure and the moon glinted on her pale neck, he wanted to know that pleasure. Her pleasure. To touch the luscious rise of her breasts. And perhaps to be the one to kick the other man aside.
As it was, the man slid down the wall and collapsed. Bella began to topple as one of his legs twisted between hers, but Ivan caught her. She tugged free and swung about to walk away.
As she approached Severo, the drunken grin on her face bemused him. A trace of her forefinger wiped away a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth. She thrust the finger between her red lips and sucked, smiling as she came upon him.
A strong blood scent forced Severo backward. Yet arousal had widene
d her pupils. God, she was gorgeous.
Bella grinned a sloppy smile. “I’d kiss you,” she said, “but you wouldn’t like it.”
She wandered off, swaying but sure-footed, toward his Mercedes.
“She’s drunk,” Severo hissed as Ivan joined his side.
“It’ll be that way the first few times she takes human blood,” the vampire said. “It’s overwhelming in so many ways. She is not used to it and needs to be cautioned not to take too much, or she might accidentally kill.”
“Christ.”
“If you love her, you’ll go with her the next few times.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then she will kill.” Ivan strode off.
And Severo beat a fist against the brick wall.
Chapter 22
For the first time in ninety years he was prepared to welcome a longtooth into his home.
Not exactly prepared. How did one prepare for such a thing? Since his hatred against them was so ingrained, he wasn’t sure it could ever be truly siphoned from his blood.
Severo drove the Mercedes toward home. On the passenger seat, Bella lolled in a blissful state as the blood swoon lingered. Her skirt was hiked high on her thighs—another inch and she’d reveal things only he should see. He liked those long, slender gams. Better, he liked imagining what lay beneath the flirty ruffles.
And that image gave him hope that it was all going to be all right. He still desired her. Nothing has changed, he repeated silently.
“Ivan said you should drink once more before going home tonight. That it would sate you for at least a week.”
“Sounds good to me,” she offered sweetly.
She was no longer silly drunk, but relaxed and in a strangely heightened state, what he’d normally call arousal.
“This may be cruel, but I have to ask,” he said. “Do you get off on it?”
She sighed. So much pleasure in that sigh. “You know vampires swoon from the blood.”
Yes. He also knew the swoon was orgasmic. And surely she and Ivan must have shared some swoons. His grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“But get off?” she said. “No. That would imply I get some kind of thrill from a stranger. It merely serves a need. Though I had wished you were standing beside me instead of Ivan.”