She nodded, tucking a stray strand of purple hair behind her heavily-pierced ear. The rest of her hair was mousy brown and as unremarkable as her features. In stark contrast, the woman who appeared from the back of the shop at the girl’s page was anything but ordinary. Unlike the receptionist, this woman hadn’t made her body a shrine to bizarre body art and piercings. She didn’t need to, he conceded with purely male interest that had nothing to do with his reasons for seeking her.
She was slightly shorter than average, with deep ebony skin. The simple white tank was a perfect foil for her dark skin, as was the intricate white tattoo adorning her left bicep. The small flowers and curves teased his fingers, making them itch to trace each line of the band of ink. His gaze slid to the right to check out her breasts without his permission, and he exhaled raggedly. The beaded nipples pressing through the layers of fabric tantalized him, making him as hard as he’d ever been in a split second.
With some difficulty, he forced his gaze higher. Her delicate features and generous lips were worthy of hours of inspection, but he contented himself with mere seconds. The sight of her bald head gave him a moment’s pause. Curiosity made him want to ask why she had opted for the style, but he bit back the question.
It struck him that she was standing there awkwardly, looking a bit confused, and he realized he had been gaping at her like an idiot. A flush of embarrassment warmed his cheeks, and he tried to pretend it wasn’t there. Plowing a hand through his long hair, he said, “I’d like a tattoo.”
“Of course.” Her husky voice sent shivers up his spine, and his intense reaction mortified Mal. It took a concentrated effort to follow behind her without looking like a damned fool. Once seated in the room where she’d led him, he relaxed only slightly. It wasn’t at all as he’d expected. The chair was much like one he’d see in any dentist’s office, but the plush white suede bolstered calm—even in one who was practically terrified of needles, like Mal. The plan had seemed much better before he confronted the reality of voluntarily subjecting his body to multiple punctures with a tattoo gun. Feeling almost faint, he leaned his head back and breathed raggedly.
She was there in a moment, leaning close enough that he could smell her perfume. The subtle, feminine fragrance somehow soothed him, even as her proximity agitated him in an entirely different way than his needle phobia. He was suddenly optimistic about successfully completing his objective to acquire this latent vampire’s power-source. Before he had seen her, he had known there were only two ways to drain her power—through killing her or through seduction. He had refused to kill anyone, but the prospect of seducing someone to whom he felt no attraction had him questioning his ability to complete his mission—especially if the latent had turned out to be male.
Her soft hand made his skin tingle when she touched him. “Are you okay? Having second thoughts?”
Mal nodded. “I think I’ll skip the tattoo.”
She smiled, her chocolate-brown eyes warm with sympathy. “It happens all the time. Have a nice evening, sir.”
Acting on impulse, letting attraction guide him, he touched her hand as she moved it away from his arm. “It would be a better night if you’d join me for a drink.”
Sparkling white teeth flashed when she drew her lower lip between them, clearly uncertain. “I don’t close the shop for another hour.”
He shrugged. “I’ll wait.”
“What’s your name?” She cocked her head, examining him. When her teeth released her lower lip, he assumed he had passed inspection.
“Mal Nixa.” He held out his hand, encompassing hers when she extended it. The cord binding them tugged sharply, and he took a step forward. Her aura brightened when he did so, telling him she was equally attracted.
“I’m Devi Madigan.”
“Devi.” He drew out the syllables, enjoying the sound on his tongue. Not as much as he’d enjoy her taste on his tongue. The accompanying image made his cock spasm, and he had to wrest his mind from playing out all the erotic possibilities. “So, will you have a drink with me?”
After a long second, she nodded. “I’ll meet you out front in two hours.”
He quirked a brow. “I thought you closed in an hour?”
“I do.” Devi winked. “I need time to get ready.”
Time was the last thing he had, but he couldn’t object to waiting. As Mal walked away, he had a feeling Devi would be more than worth the wait.
Devi finished dressing ten minutes before she’d expected, but found Mal already waiting for her when she closed up the shop. The black dress and leather jacket she’d changed into were appropriate for any club he might choose, but the clothes left her feeling exposed as his gaze devoured her, examining her from head to toe. The naked desire in his eyes made her shiver. It was good to have a man desire her. It wasn’t a novel experience, but had happened too rarely for her to be nonchalant about male appreciation.
She fumbled with the shop keys, and her heartbeat quickened when Mal took the ring from her. His touch ignited her senses. His long, nimble fingers sorted through the keys, and he deftly engaged the lock with the one she indicated. A small leap of imagination had her picturing those same lean fingers exploring her body, dancing over her skin, tracing every curve, niche and convexity. The way her body reacted to the fantasy of his touch left her breathless, wondering if the reality could compare.
As he slipped a casual arm around her waist, his hand splaying across her lower back, Devi decided she would do her best to find out. Mal Nixa was a sexy man. His long hair, almost touching his waist, invited her to thread her fingers through the silvery-blond strands. The light green of his eyes made her think of tropical grottos she had seen in magazines, while his pale skin suggested nights spent in darkness. She hadn’t dated a white guy before. The opportunity had just never arisen. If all went well on their date, she intended to see about making it happen. Why deny herself any pleasure? Life, in general, was too short to live void of fun. With Devi’s health, it was much too short to pass up a chance of sex with a man like Mal.
“Do you know Vegas very well?” she asked in an attempt to distract her thoughts from purely sexual imaginings.
Mal shrugged. “I’m here four or five times a year, usually for a show.”
She nodded. “There are an infinite variety of shows, aren’t there? I’m obsessed with Cirque du Soleil and have to see all their new performances.”
Mal arched a brow. “I’ve only been to one of their shows. Not my thing.” He half shrugged. “I actually meant my band’s gigs.”
A nervous giggle escaped Devi as they exited the main entrance of the Liege for the neon brilliance of the Strip at 4:00 a.m. “I didn’t know you had a band.”
“Why would you? We aren’t famous or anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”
“What’s your group’s name?”
“DisHarmony.”
The realization they were about to join the foot traffic on the Strip distracted her from asking how the group got its name. “We can catch a taxi over there.” She pointed to the taxi line, where a line of cabs waited for fares.
He shook his head. “The club I have in mind is within walking distance.” Mal steered her to the Strip, away from the crosswalks. Devi frowned as they jaywalked across the crowded Strip with only one car honking at them. Where was he planning to take her? She couldn’t think of a club nearby, and the nearest casino with a bar was the opposite direction. As she opened her mouth to question him about their destination, she saw a door she had never noticed before, sandwiched between two buildings. Oddly enough, it appeared to be just a door. She could see no building supporting it. The architecture trick fascinated her until they neared the entrance.
A willowy blonde and her companion awaited entrance as Devi and Mal stepped into line. When she caught Devi’s eyes over her companion’s shoulder, the blonde parted scarlet lips to reveal gleaming white teeth, complete with the best pair of costume fangs Devi had ever seen. She flinched when the blonde hissed at
her. “What a weirdo,” she said softly as the couple passed security.
“Hmm?” asked Mal as he handed a key card to the extremely tall, solidly built bouncer.
“Nothing.” Devi blinked, half convinced she had seen horns on the bouncer for just a second. When she looked again, he had a gleaming head, as bald as hers, with no trace of horns. The surreal experience occupied her thoughts as they stepped through the red door with the word Darkness burnt into the wood. Once inside, the décor had her questioning the club’s theme. Darkest red blended with ebony to form a moody, dramatic atmosphere. Her curious gaze raked over the patrons, finding them a curious blend of people. While of varied composition, the crowd all seemed to have one thing in common—they matched the melodramatic color scheme and furnishings.
Mal led her to a table on the second level. Here, the lighting was dimmer than on the first floor, making it almost impossible to see more than two feet in front of her. Peripherally, Devi saw couples dancing close, and a few seemed to be doing more than dancing, judging by their writhing shadows. She kept her gaze focused straight ahead until they sat at a table. He leaned toward her, and her posture naturally matched his, though she was feeling hesitant about her initial plan to spend the night with Mal. His taste in clubs had her wondering what other odd tastes he had. Some strange experiences might be fun to explore, but she wasn’t into anything seriously freaky.
“Drink?”
She nodded, and a waitress appeared, as if summoned. She was a tiny little thing, and her skintight red vinyl costume left little to the imagination. “Great contacts,” she said to the server. “I have never seen such a dark red.”
A sultry smile curved the woman’s mouth. “I bet there’s a lot you haven’t seen, honey.” She brushed a hand across the nape of Devi’s neck, making her shiver. “What’ll you have?”
“Cranberry juice.” Alcohol didn’t mix well with her biology. It affected her much too quickly, dropped too many inhibitions, and left her feeling more wretched the next day than a simple drink was worth.
The server took Mal’s order for a Manhattan efficiently, with little interest. Devi couldn’t shake the sense that the woman was watching her the entire time, even though her gaze never left Mal. Perhaps it was the strange contact lenses that made Devi feel like the eyes could see everything around the server, regardless of which direction she faced.
Once she had left, Devi was unable to hold back the need to ask Mal about the club. “What is with this place? It’s creepy.” That wasn’t the right word, but she didn’t know how to describe how she perceived her surroundings. Her nerves were tingling, and the air seemed thick, though she had no trouble breathing even in the thick shroud of smoke. Beneath the pounding music and raucous cacophony of voices, she could almost hear another beat, a simple one-two that reminded her of a heart pounding.
He frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She decided to let the subject lapse, since she couldn’t seem to verbalize what she wanted to say anyway. “How did you find this place? I’ve lived in Vegas all my life and owned my shop at the Liege for ten years and never knew it was here.”
“It’s members-only. I guess you could say I am a legacy member. My family’s had membership for ages.” He touched her hand as he spoke.
That didn’t explain why she hadn’t noticed the club, but Devi acknowledged she didn’t really care. His touch reminded her why she was there, and conversing about the strange nightclub was at the bottom of the list of things she wanted to do with him. “You said you aren’t from Vegas, so where do you live?”
“L.A. My entire family lives there.” His lips twisted slightly, betraying that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “How about you?”
Devi shrugged, wishing she could avoid the brief explanation that always accompanied meeting new people with whom she might have some kind of deeper connection than acquaintanceship. “Who knows? My mother died when I was born. I have no idea who or where my father is, and I grew up in foster care.”
Mal patted her arm lightly. “I’m surprised you weren’t adopted. Aren’t infants in high demand?”
“Not ones like me.” She managed a light tone, not wanting to ruin an evening of potential debauchery with serious conversation. “Do you want to dance?”
“Sure.” He took her hand, but the return of their server interrupted their exodus to the dance floor.
She was hot, and not just from the temperature in the club, which was somewhere between tropical and a balmy day in the seventh level of Hell. The cranberry juice was tart, but refreshing, and she drained half the glass in one drink. When she returned the glass to the coaster, she found Mal studying her intensely. His lips were moving, but he wasn’t saying anything. The temperature seemed to rise another degree, and she slipped off the leather jacket. The spaghetti straps of the dress burned her skin, and it took a tremendous amount of willpower not to rip off the dress and run naked through the club in search of cooling relief.
Devi couldn’t take her gaze from his lips. “What are you doing?” As he continued, blue lights started pulsing around him, and she was dizzy. She fanned herself with a menu of appetizers she took from the table, but found no respite from the heat. It dawned on her that he was making her feel this way. Something Mal was doing was affecting her. She pushed back her chair, needing to escape. “I have to go now.”
“Stay.” He tightened his hold on her wrist, his authoritative voice making her freeze to her seat. “Stay with me, Devi,” said Mal in a softer tone, as he stroked her arm. “Bind yourself to me. Give me your power-source. Do you yield?”
Her head was spinning like a centrifuge, and it was so hot that sweat streamed down her body. “Please stop.”
“I can’t.” He seemed regretful. “Give yourself to me. Do you consent to a power transfer?”
“I don’t care what you do. Just make this stop.” Buzzing filled her ears, drowning out whatever words he spoke next. Lights flashed around her, and a white light engulfed Devi, sucking her inside its cold radiance. “Mal…” She reached out for him, and his hand was there, an anchor in the storm consuming her.
“Just relax. Let it happen.” His voice seemed to be coming from far off. She tried to focus on his words to resist the pull of the light, but couldn’t stand fast. Unconsciousness swept over her, and she had no choice but to yield to it, wondering as she passed out just what Mal was, and what he had done to her.
She came to a few minutes later, finding herself on Mal’s lap. His face revealed his concern, and she wondered what had happened. The last few minutes were a blur, and she couldn’t recall how she had ended up on his lap. “What’s going on?”
“You fainted.” He touched her neck. “Pulse is strong, so I think you’re okay.” Mal stroked her throat. “That was scary.”
Devi shrugged. “I probably got too hot.” She had fainted a few times before, so it wasn’t so scary now that she knew what had happened. In the past, she had been too hot, or sometimes too weak, and had lost consciousness. “I’ll be fine.”
“Dare I hope you’ll still be up for a dance in a few minutes?” Concern still shadowed his eyes, making them bottle-green.
She nodded. “I’m fine now.” Really, she was. Whatever had made her faint didn’t seem to bother her now, and she was able to stand with no difficulty. Devi accepted Mal’s hand and walked with him to the dance floor. A glance around at the other dancers showed they were too preoccupied with each other to pay attention to anyone else. That freed her remaining inhibitions, and she curved into Mal without hesitation, enjoying his solid body against hers. He was hard where she was soft, and she wriggled impatiently, wanting to spend the night exploring their contrasts and complements.
His hands were insistent and commanding as they roamed her body, but she yielded without protest to his touch. Mal seemed to be exploring every inch of her, and she had no objection, despite their short time of acquaintance. “Kiss me.”
Mal obeyed without question,
lowering his head. She parted her lips and met his mouth, their tongues touching. He kissed with the same mastery that he danced, and she melted against him, pressing closer. He nibbled her lower lip, and Devi traced her tongue against the roof of his mouth. Her lips curved to his, forming a seal, and they devoured each other. His taste was unique, spiced by a hint of cinnamon and alcohol. Addictive. That described him perfectly. Mal had an addictive taste and presence. She wanted to lose herself in him, and right then, she didn’t care if she ever found the remnants again.
He cupped her breasts through the silk dress, his thumbs expertly chafing her nipples until they were firm buds. Devi’s pussy spasmed each time he abraded her nipples, and she arched against him, wanting to feel his cock inside her. She wasn’t a prude, having done her share of reckless things, but having public sex on a dance floor was something she had never considered before. With Mal, it didn’t seem crazy or impulsive. What seemed nuts was wasting any of their time together to go through the rest of the date, or even holding off until they found a bed or more privacy. She needed him right then, with a compulsion she had never experienced before. With that thought in mind, she tore her mouth from his. “I want you, Mal.”
He nodded. “I want you, too. Let’s get a room. There are some private ones available here in the club.”
“Later.” Boldly, she cupped his cock through his tight jeans. “I want you right here, right now. Fuck me, Mal. Bury yourself inside me with all these people around us.”
What Happens in Vegas…After Dark Page 17