The redhead offered an elegant shrug of her shoulders, but didn't offer up an answer to the blonde's demand.
"He said he'd meet me here. You don't think he changed his mind, do you?" The uncertainty that entered her voice was surprising, she seemed so sure of herself before. I smiled again as I slid her change across the bar top, even if she wasn't looking at me, I was determined that every customer tonight would receive the Georgia Deverell signature smile. I loved my job, especially listening in on snippets of people's lives such as this.
The blonde suddenly turned her attention to me, catching my smile and blinking twice before asking, "Do you know Samson Beauregard? Has he been here tonight?"
I kept the smile on my face, but shook my head. "Sorry, only my second night here. I haven't learnt the names or faces of the regulars yet."
"Well, you'd remember him," she breathed in a purr. The redhead nodded in agreement.
"Are you early?" I offered in womanly support as I wiped down the bar between us. "Maybe he'll still show."
She returned my smile, but it was fake. A woman can tell a fake female smile a mile away.
"Oh, he'll definitely show. I made sure of that when I left him last night."
The redhead giggled into her wine glass. I resolutely kept the smile on my face and turned to another customer. Two more customers in and I knew her beau had arrived. Their chatter had ceased, blonde's chest had puffed out, hair flicked over her shoulder to reveal cream coloured skin at her neck, a seductive curve to her lips and a knowing glint in her eyes. She batted her eyelashes in a way that I would have loved to tell her looked ridiculous, but I could tell she thought looked coy.
I smothered a huff of laughter before it escaped my lips and concentrated on my next customer to her side.
"Lisa, a pleasure as always." Jeesh, what a voice, so deep and sexy. And was that an English accent? My eyes flicked over to the blonde's beau and my breath suddenly caught in my lungs. Wow.
"Samson, you're late," she pouted.
"I never promised to be here, my sweet. But as luck would have it, I have been called in to work."
"Work?" she asked, mortification lacing the word. As if she couldn't fathom why he would have to work on a Friday evening and especially as she was standing right there. The huff of laughter at that thought slipped out before I could contain it.
It hadn't been loud and the room was full to capacity, so how he heard it, I don't know. But I knew his eyes were on me. I kept mine resolutely on the customer I was serving, until I felt the heat of his gaze disappear. Then I chanced a quick flick of my gaze towards him, stunned again at how gorgeous he was.
Blond hair, down to his shoulders, loose and framing smooth cream, deeply cut cheekbones, firm jawline, and the most stunning chocolate brown eyes I'd ever seen. The blonde was one lucky lady.
"But, honey, we were going to spend the evening together. Remember last night?" she asked in a low, sexy voice.
"Intimately," he replied and I felt a twinge of jealousy at those words. If only a man like that remembered a night with me "intimately".
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the blonde lift her hands to rest on his broad chest, her fingers gripping the ribbed material of his long-sleeved cream t-shirt, her hips pressed familiarly against his own.
"Perhaps we should revisit those memories," she suggested.
"Alas, my sweet, but my employer wishes my services tonight. I can not."
She huffed out a breath in frustration, then to my horror - for her - she said in a whine, "But, it was so much fun! You had fun, didn't you?"
I shook my head subtly to myself, the girl was heading for a crash and burn if ever there was one. When my eyes lifted to take in her beau's response, I found rich, dark chocolate staring back at me, a twitch at the edge of his lips. I smiled, my bartender's smile, and received a beaming grin back for my efforts.
I think I forgot to breathe.
"Lisa," he purred, returning his attention to the blonde. "It was fun, my sweet, but now you shall move on."
I thought his phrasing was unusual, like he was insisting she "move on" and that she had no choice in the matter. I couldn't see "Lisa" letting go that easily, she had perfected her trap and she was too close to getting her prize. I'd seen many women like her from behind the barrier of a bar top, determined to bag the best looking in the room. She'd had a taste of this guy, she wasn't going to turn away with her tail between her legs. Women like Lisa made an art form out of hunting their prey.
"Oh," she breathed, "perhaps you are right." My gaze flicked unapologetically to the threesome, the redhead also nodding in agreement with her friend.
The guy's eyes weren't on them, but me, his height making it easy to catch my eyes over the head of the blonde miraculously about to leave with her tail between her legs. I held his gaze unable to move an inch, barely breathing, feeling like I was falling into those deep pools of chocolate brown.
"It was fun, honey," Lisa said, taking a step back. "Take care now," she added, before picking up her wineglass and with redhead in tow, walking across the room to a group of guys on the other side. The entire walk, however long it took her to negotiate the dancers on the floor, I was trapped in the steady and I thought perhaps, possessive, gaze of Lisa' ex-beau.
Finally he spoke.
"And who would you be?" The English accent more pronounced, his words breaking the spell I seemed to be under.
For some reason I felt like playing with him, he had seemed to have played with Lisa so it fit.
"Out of your league, sunshine."
He stared at me for a moment and then threw his head back and laughed. A full bodied laugh that went straight through to my bones. I was sure I'd never hear a sound so beautiful again in my life. I was sure, right then, that his laugh was... perfection.
The dream disappeared and for a moment my conscious mind surfaced. For a moment I felt my slumbering body take a deep, fortifying breath in. Even if I no longer needed one, I still took the opportunity to inhale, because I knew my dreams weren't done with me tonight. I knew there were more exquisite memories to plague my sub-conscience with.
"Babe, eat," Samson instructed, from across his side of the table.
"You're not eating," I pointed out, trying - no doubt futilely - to direct his astute gaze from my barely touched plate to his. I was too excited to be eating. Too happy walking a tightrope between ecstasy and bliss.
He'd told me he loved me tonight.
"I ate earlier, you did not. Now eat," he replied, a small knowing smile curving the corners of his full lips. Lips which had devoured me not moments before we entered this restaurant tonight. I could still feel their heat against my own. Still taste him on my tongue.
Exquisite.
"I'm not really hungry for food," I admitted, my eyes finding his from under my lids.
He leaned forward, half his body across the table between us, the food forgotten completely for now. His hand came out and snagged mine, his thumb washing an intimate motion across my wrist.
"What are you hungry for, baby?" he whispered into the space between us. I sucked in breath at the hunger I saw reflected in his chocolate gaze.
"You," I whispered back and watched mesmerised as something flashed in his eyes. It must have been the lights of the room, because although Samson's eyes were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen, even they couldn't change colour like that without outside influence such as the beam of a light in the room.
"Then let's skip dinner and go straight to dessert," he husked, still holding my hand with one of his as he fished some notes out of his pocket and threw them on the table between us, then pulled me upright from my seat.
I loved it when he got like this, an almost loss of control to have me. It had been like this from the start, from the moment he touched me that very first time. I knew now why. Because the moment he touched me fire burned through my veins and I knew it did the same for him. An all consuming hunger for the person before you, a feeling t
hat you would simply die if you didn't get closer, didn't taste, touch, feel every part of them right now.
I had to run to keep up with him, his strides so much longer than mine, but his grip on my hand was enough to pull me along behind him as we left the restaurant, made our way through the throng of people on Viaduct Quay and finally found ourselves in a darkened area, out of sight but not out of sound of those people celebrating a wonderful, star bright Auckland night.
My back was thrust gently, but firmly against a door behind me. Samson's hands already wrapped up in my hair, cupping the back of my neck. The other running a thumb carefully over my taut nipple, the fabric of my blouse doing nothing to stop the sensations of heat and lust his touch created. His body moulded to mine.
"Can you come quietly, babe?" he breathed against my lips.
"What? You want to do it here?" I asked, equal parts shocked and turned on.
"I can't wait to get you home. I need to be inside you right now."
"Samson," I moaned against his lips and tongue, my hands fisted in his shirt between us. "People are here," I managed to get out, but it was mumbled against his beautiful mouth.
"Live life, baby. Grab it while you can," he whispered, his hand now undoing the buttons of my jeans.
"Samson," I repeated, uncertain if I could carry out such an intimate act, so publicly.
"No one will bother us," he promised.
"You can't be sure," I argued as I felt my jeans and knickers get pulled down my legs and the warm night air wrap around my thighs lovingly.
"Then revel in the danger, Gigi. Let life envelope you in all its delicious wonders. Tease you and tempt you. Look it in the eyes and don't ever back down."
Sometimes it felt like he was talking about something else entirely than I was, but it never failed to draw me in. I hadn't felt as alive, as I did when with Samson, in my life before.
I nodded against him, felt his hands shift down to cup my bare behind and then he lifted me up, my back sliding against the hardness of the door behind me, the heat of his body wrapping around my front. His gorgeous chocolate brown eyes held mine for a split second and then he thrust forward with his hips and slid deliciously deep inside.
I gasped, feeling every delightful stretch he was making, my cry for more swallowed down by his lips and tongue, and then - as it had done so many nights before - the dream shattered and another began to coalesce around my sleeping form.
With a cry of frustration, mixed with a moan of deep seated fear at what would come next to torment me, I used every ounce of cognitive ability available to me in my slumbering state and forced my bitter-sweet memories from my mind.
It didn't always work, as much as I feared the torture of remembering, I craved that time when my life was so full of love and light. Often the memory-dreams won, a sense of relief and dread making a cocktail of confusing emotions inside.
But tonight, it worked, because the next dream was not of reality, but a place I go to forget.
Chapter 3
Hope
There was a buzzing sound in the background that I tried to ignore. A ringing that was incongruous with the sun drenched beach I was lying on in my dream. The heat beating down from the heavens left me feeling warm and lazy. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to ruin my tan.
Yeah, like I'd ever had a tan. I'm as pale as they come. Any paler and I'd be considered a ghost. Talk about your stereotypical vampire look. I've got it in spades. But, a girl can dream, can't she? Which just proved that the ringing sound which didn't match the beach scene was real. Because I'd never ruin a good tanning dream with the buzz of my doorbell.
I rolled out of bed feeling surprisingly alive. Better than I'd felt for days. Which only made me remember the reason why. Pre-college boy. Fuck. I pushed the memory, the sensory recollection of tasting his blood, aside. It was too powerful. Even now, having fed the Dark Shadow the night before, she hungered. But, I knew I had a good three days before she would start really complaining again.
Vampires need to feed nightly, but not me. A quirk of the mixed heritage, of being a Nothus. Perhaps that's what Lucinda means when she calls it a mixed blessing. That and the fact that although vampires in general are allergic to silver, I am not. Handy, when I feel the pull that leads me to a Rogue Vampire about to kill an innocent, I can palm a silver stake and aim for the heart without any ill effects from the silver of the weapon. I'm sure a silver stake in the heart would still hurt me though, maybe not make me burst into dust like it does other vamps, but shit, it's gotta hurt. No, to make me all done and dusted, you'd have to decapitate me. Silver or no silver, without my head I'd be a goner.
I took a peek through the peep hole to see who was disturbing my Saturday morning sleep. Anyone who knew me would know I worked late last night. Plus, you know, any vampires that know me wouldn't be up and about just yet, considering it's only just gone One in the afternoon.
It was Kara, my best friend since kindergarten. She's as human as they come, but she knows about my... disability. Lucinda and Samson were not happy that I told her. I think they worried about her safety, not mine. I would never harm Kara. Well not intentionally. She's like the sister I never had. She also has a key to my apartment, but we'd discovered not long after the turning, that if she barged in it wasn't always good. She knew I needed to feed when I spoke to her yesterday afternoon on the phone. Her reluctance to use her key was both good and bad. Good, because if I hadn't have fed she would be in trouble. And bad, because she was aware of how much trouble she could be in right now if that was indeed the case.
I sighed and rubbed sleep from my eyes. It sucked to be me.
“It's safe,” I said loud enough to carry through the closed door and then flashed across the room to the safety of shadows. It wouldn't be safe if she opened the door and let the sunlight from the landing in on me.
Her key slid into the lock and clicked it open and a moment later the scent of honeysuckle wafted in on the air. I inhaled deeply, it always seemed to calm me, her scent. So far, it didn't make my mouth water in anticipation, but the thought that it might this time always crossed my mind right when I took a deep sniff.
“Hey, Gigs.” Her voice was quieter than usual and immediately I let out a little growl. Damn vampire reactions.
She stiffened just inside the threshold, door still open at her back for easy retreat. I willed my Dark Shadow to stop overreacting, maybe Kara had just had a late night too and was suffering the after effects.
“What's up?” My voice was neutral, even and completely devoid of a growl.
She closed the door behind her and as the sunlight left the room, allowing my vampire eyes to reign supreme, I noticed how tired she looked. Her pale face, which normally had plumpish rosy pink cheeks, now looked too white and hollow. Dark bags under her brown eyes completed the ragged look. Her hair was tied back in a hastily pulled together ponytail. The brown strands looking unwashed, dull and flat. Not the usual glossy brown with gold highlights of her signature heat straightened look. How long had it been since I last saw her? Only a day, maybe two. What the hell had happened?
“Jeez Kara, what's wrong?” I made sure not to flash to her side, but purposely took one slow step after another. When I first told her what had happened to me we'd had a blast experimenting with what exactly I could do. Flashing from one spot to another in the front room of her villa had us in fits of laughter for more than an hour. Now did not seem like the time to make her laugh.
“Oh God, Gigs. Something terrible has happened.” She was wringing her hands and her bottom lip was trembling. At any moment the water works would start.
“Come on, hon,” I said taking her hand and leading her to the sofa. “Take a seat and tell me what you can.”
She took a deep shattering breath in, once we were seated side by side, her hands still wringing together painfully. It was breaking my heart to watch. Kara is the most laid back person I know. That's why telling her about my new lifestyle options was easier than f
acing my mum and dad. I still haven't managed the latter, but it took me only a week to confront Kara. Her ability to take most things in her stride and the fact that she had phoned me three times daily until I had succumbed to her ever increasing demands to meet face to face, made the whole episode manageable. Seeing her distraught now was something altogether new.
“It's Stuart,” she said, her voice hitching slightly on her cousin's name. “He's been arrested for murder.”
Fuck-a-duck. Stu was Kara's closest cousin. We'd done a lot of things together growing up, he's just a year older than us. He's a regular wise-guy. Although New Zealand doesn't have a Mafia, we're more into gangs. Not that Stu is a gang member, but he just has that air about him of a made man. Dresses in sleek suits with swished back, greased up hair. His skin's a little dark too, so to look at him you might think he has a hint of Italian blood in him. He doesn't, but he plays on his good looks. He's a lady's man and a quite successful sales rep for a local vodka company. He gets invited to all the swanky events SubZero sponsors. And they sponsor the best.
“Murder?” I asked, not without a little shock. “How? Who?”
Kara's big round tear-filled eyes looked up at mine. “Knife, we think. His boss. And he didn't do it.” She said the last as though challenging me otherwise.
“Of course he didn't do it, hon. Stu wouldn't hurt a lamb.” Her shoulders relaxed as soon as I defended Stu's honour. Perhaps she'd thought I wouldn't now that I was capable of killing at a drop of the hat. But, I remembered all those fun times we'd had together, the three of us. How caring and attentive Stu had been to both Kara and me. Despite me not being a relative, he had treated me exactly the same as his favourite little cousin. Protective, tolerant and kind.
Stu couldn't have done this. Could he?
“What happened exactly, Kara? What to you know?” I asked softly.
“That's just it. The police aren't telling the family anything. They've let his lawyer see him, but Aunt Sarah isn't allowed to visit at all. They've denied him bail and are holding him at Mt Eden Prison, awaiting trial. It's crazy Gigs, they're acting like they are sure he did it. They're acting like it's a fait accompli.”
Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) Page 3