by B. N. Toler
“You really need to trust me, kitten.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Trust is earned.”
“See you tonight.” He leaves me in the alley, exiting without looking back.
When I get to Marshall’s, Carter is in the main room looking over receipts.
“What’s with you?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You look flushed.” Carter leans back, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
“You need to quit,” I scold him.
“You need to mind your own.” He smiles sweetly at me.
“Why did you want me in early?”
“Practice.”
“What?”
“Lap dance for tonight. It’s gotta rock. Mary!” he yells.
“Thought a lap dance was just ‘grinding’ over a guy?” I mock him because it’s what he said the first time we met.
Carter snorts and yells for Mary again. “Go get Corbin.”
“What?” I ask in disbelief.
“You can practice on Corbin.”
“Oh my gosh, no way!” I yell.
“It’s just a lap dance, you don’t have to get naked.” Carter flicks his cigarette in the glass ashtray on the table.
“What’s going on?” Thomas enters through the back of the room.
“Nothing, Thomas!” I snap as images of him kissing me earlier roll through my mind.
“Okay. You pick. Either Thomas or Corbin.” Carter smiles at me.
“Carter, I don’t need to practice.”
“Practice what?” Thomas is now standing beside the table where Carter and I sit.
“Lap dance. She’s got one tonight and she needs practice.”
“Oh,” Thomas says frustration evident in his voice.
“So, who will it be?” I look around and see Mary staring at us from behind the bar. I stand up as Corbin enters the room.
“Sorry, I was on the phone. What’s up?” Corbin sits down at the table beside Carter as I go to the bar.
“Mary, I need the bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass.” Mary smiles and quickly gets both for me. I fill the highball glass and chug the amber fluid as it burns my throat.
“Aldo!” Thomas scolds.
“Leave her alone, Thomas. She needs something to take the edge off,” Carter intervenes, a slight smile playing on his lips. Carter has an odd appreciation for a woman that can stomach hard liquor.
I roll my eyes as I slam the glass down. To take the edge off I would need an IV filled with bourbon attached to me.
“Alright, let’s do this,” I sigh, hiding my anger at Carter for reducing me to this.
“Which one?” Carter asks.
“Which one, what?” Corbin looks up at me with confusion in his eyes.
“She has to give either you or Thomas a lap dance.”
Corbin immediately jumps out of his chair. “No way, Carter. I’m a married man.”
“Oh boohoo. My name is Corbin and I’m being forced to get a lap dance from a beautiful woman. Woe is me,” Carter mocks Corbin in a whiney voice and then bellows out an assortment of coughs, mixed with laughter.
“I’m sorry, Aldo, but I can’t.” Corbin shakes his head apologetically.
“It’s okay. I hope to find a husband as loyal as you one day.” I pat his shoulder.
“Thomas it is then.” Carter nods for Thomas to pull out a chair and sit down.
Thomas and I lock eyes for a moment and I want to scream. This is beyond awkward.
“Mary, come here.” Mary quickly scurries over. “Put on some music and watch Aldo do this lap dance. Give her pointers.”
Relief washes over me. “You’re not staying?”
“Hell no.” Carter stands and gathers his papers. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” He and Corbin leave the room as the music starts. It’s Whole lotta love by Led Zepplin.
“Now, take off your clothes,” Mary orders me.
“What?”
“You will be wearing nothing but a bra and panties later, so just strip down to that for this.”
“We don’t have—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt Thomas as I begin to strip down grateful I wore matching bra and panties.
Once I undress, I approach Thomas as he stares at me with his hands in his lap. His lips are pressed together and I confident this is making him as uncomfortable as I am. His eyes slowly travel down my body and back up again and he swallows. I try to pretend he’s someone else, but as I lean over him I realize I can’t do that. So I resort to something else. I let myself remember the way I wanted him when I was seventeen years old. I try to remember what I would have done to have him. I let go of my anger and resentment and make myself into something else. Rolling my body into Thomas, I try to stay in rhythm with the music. I turn around and sit on his lap as I move my hips. My imagination takes a hard left turn, and suddenly I find myself pretending it’s Daniel I’m dancing for. With this in mind, I move more fluidly and try to use my body to torture him. Punish him for the conflicting feelings and unrequited desire he has created within me.
“You’re doing good,” Mary nods approvingly.
Thomas’s energy soars when I lean back against him, arching my back and wrapping an arm around his neck while I use my other hand to rub the length of my body. When I sit back down I feel his erection bulging through the fabric of his jeans and I jump up.
His face reddens with embarrassment.
“Now Bristol, that’s normal, and you mustn’t make a spectacle of it. Continue,” Mary orders in her thick accent.
I close my eyes trying to find the courage to continue. This just feels so wrong, but if Mary tells Carter I freaked he’ll pull the plug on the dance with Andre tonight. I quickly push away my apprehensions, determined to finish this right. If Thomas feels uncomfortable, he’ll have to deal with it. I have to do this. My face is heated from the moment and the glass of whiskey I drank, but I push on. Straddling Thomas, I hold his shoulders as I lean my body back. I block out his image, it’s too hard to look at him. Finally the song ends and as soon as it does I jump off of him and grab my clothes.
“I think I got it.”
Thomas jumps up and exits the room quickly.
“Yeah, you got it,” Mary laughs watching Thomas leave as I flee to the dressing room.
“This arrived for you today.” Mary enters the dressing room where I’ve been napping for the past hour.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, admiring the red fabric. “Who sent this?”
“For you to wear tonight. That’s all the card says.” She shrugs, tossing the card on my bureau. “Get dressed. We need your help with tables.”
I smile and do as she instructs me. After I dress, I stand in front of my bureau’s mirror, staring at myself. It had to be Andre who sent me this expensive costume. I’m extremely happy the costume is red because it matches the black gloves I bought earlier today. It’s a red silk corset that ties in the back and pushes my bosom up. I appreciate the fact it is something I can’t remove with ease, so I won’t be expected to remove my top at any point.
“I hate seeing you do this,” Thomas says as he enters the dressing room.
“It’s not like I’m doing it by choice.” I roll my eyes.
“Actually, you are. You could choose to leave this place.”
“You know what I mean Thomas. Can you tie me in the back, please?” I ask, not wanting to leave the room without being completely tied up.
“Uh, yeah.” He approaches me, standing behind me and I can hear his energy rise. I wonder why he doesn’t try to control it. He proceeds to pull the laces, tightening the bodice, causing me to gasp. When he finishes, he touches my shoulder with his finger very gently and our eyes meet in the mirror.
“You don’t have to do this,” he whispers, almost begging me to say I won’t.
“Yes, I do.” I look away.
“I’ll be behind the bar tonight in disguise, just in case. Kaitlynn will be in the office watching the secu
rity cameras in case you have any trouble.”
“Okay,” I nod wondering if Kaitlynn would bother alerting anyone if I were in danger.
Thomas looks me up and down. “You look good enough to eat.” He smiles halfway, but I can tell he doesn’t think it’s funny at all.
“Why that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I reply in my best southern accent, trying to joke.
“Good luck.” He nods and leaves the room.
I gaze at myself once more in the mirror, noting how absolutely stunning I look in my knee length black boots, thigh highs and the red corset. If this outfit doesn’t hook Andre, I don’t know what else will. Although my face looks thin and pale, I still look pretty. A burning sensation rises in my stomach and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Daniel is right. I do need blood, but I can’t think about that right now, so I push the hunger deep down and focus. I pull the bottle of Lucy’s concoction out and shove it in my cleavage. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it, but I figure it’s best to keep it close, just in case.
I head to the main room and help serve for about an hour, feeling Thomas’s eyes glued to me the entire time. The patrons seem to like my new outfit, as well, since I’ve made sixty dollars in tips in under an hour. I’m bussing a table when Andre and his posse enter. Daniel enters last and our gazes lock immediately. He scans me and I know the outfit is killing him. I look sexy tonight. But my focus must be on Andre. My eyes lock with the master vampire himself, and his intense gaze leaves me breathless. With a wink he turns to enter the VIP room, followed by his entourage.
I swallow the nervous lump in my throat as nausea sets in and try to calm my nerves as I sit my tray of empty bar glasses on the well to the side of the bar. “Don’t do this,” Thomas begs, his eyes big and pleading.
“I have to,” I whisper, looking away from him.
“I’ll take you away from here, right now.” He leans over the well towards me.
“You have customers waiting.” I nod to the other side of the bar. “I’ll be okay.” I try to reassure him. Our eyes lock again briefly, but I tear mine away leaving him behind, making my way to the VIP room. My body feels weak with exhaustion, but I’m fueled by adrenaline.
I take a deep breath as I enter the room and find Andre leaning back on the black leather sofa. Miles and Jamie are to his right, while two others I’ve never seen before sit to his left. Daniel sits beside Jamie and they all watch me. Everyone is dressed in nice slacks and button up shirts, but not Daniel. He’s wearing a fitted V-neck T-shirt that accentuates his massive arms and chest with jeans.
“Good evening gentlemen.” I smile as I sashay towards them, making sure to approach Andre first.
“Tu es magnifique.” Andre nods.
“Merci,” I reply to his compliment. I took French in high school for four years, but can barely speak any. I do remember tu es magnifique means you are beautiful.
“You speak French?”
“No,” I laugh. “Just know a few sayings and words.” I twirl the hair of my black wig between my fingers.
“A woman of many talents,” Daniel adds and I know he’s mocking me.
“Right you are, brother,” Andre nods. I glance at Daniel and quickly look away.
Brother?
I dismiss the thought as I begin moving my body in rhythm to the music, attempting to be as sexy as possible, which isn’t easy for me to do. The entire time I move, I try to pretend it’s only Daniel I’m dancing for. I don’t allow myself to look at him, but I feel his gaze burning into me as I remain in the center of the room. As I continue to move, I’m startled when I’m pulled into the lap of someone.
“I like the girls to get close,” Jamie laughs, his grip strong on my hips.
I stand up, stumbling to get away from him. “That’s not what we do here.” I try to smile. Suddenly, I feel a hard pinch on my left butt cheek causing me to yelp.
Jamie begins to laugh and without hesitation, I punch him in the jaw crushing the bones in my hand as I do. “Shit!” I growl through clenched teeth as I hold my wounded hand with the other, pain coursing through my hand. Jamie roars with laughter, joined by all of the others, with the exception of Andre and Daniel.
“Get out, asshole,” I growl at him as I hold my hand.
Jamie stands and grabs my arm. As he squeezes it, my skin pulls slightly and I feel the wound I had sealed with the liquid bandage open. “Make me leave, slut!” he hisses.
I lurch forward in pain when his grip releases. I look up and see Daniel holding him by his throat.
“I think you owe this young lady an apology,” Daniel growls through clenched teeth. I am stunned by the anger in his eyes as he holds Jamie by his massive throat.
“I’m s-s-sorry.” Jamie stutters. I stare at Daniel in disbelief. He really is stronger than a vampire.
“Leave!” Andre booms angrily. “Daniel see to it Jamie is dealt with appropriately.” Jamie and the other three men instantly exit the room. Daniel glances to Andre then back to me with an odd look. He looks as if he just realized something—like he’s leaving me alone with Andre—but leaves the room.
I shake my hand out knowing I’ve broken something, but I fight my tears and try to play it off before turning to smile at Andre.
“My apologies,” he smiles. “You pack quite a punch,” he chuckles.
“Apparently not, it didn’t seem to faze him. His face felt like a brick.” I wince as I stretch my hand out.
“Well, perhaps against delicate hands such as yours. Are you okay?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I nod, hoping to hide the extreme pain I’m in. “Would you like me to continue?”
“As long as you feel up to it.”
I begin moving again, trying to ignore my pain induced nausea and my throbbing hand and move closer to Andre until I’m between his legs.
“Do you like the outfit?”
“You sent this?” I question, still moving.
“Honestly, Jamie picked it out, but it was my idea. You look good enough to eat in this.”
“Do I?” I try to smile seductively. “You must be a very powerful man.” Anyone, human, vampire, blood healer, or hybrid could see Andre is powerful. His eminence radiates off of him like heat from the sun. He moves as if the very ground he walks on is blessed to have been stepped upon by his feet; speaks with invocation; laughs disconcertingly.
“How so?” He watches my body as I roll into him.
“You have someone do your shopping for you; the way the other men obey your orders.”
“I am powerful.”
“I can see that.” I stare into his eyes, trying to seem impressed by his power when really I’m disgusted.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” He starts with the sexual banter.
“I’m powerful too, ya know.” I roll right along with him.
“Is that so?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“I bet if given the chance, I could ruin you,” I smile. His eyes flicker with some uncertainty so I quickly add, “I’m a bit of a heartbreaker.”
His electric eyes gaze up at me with curiosity. “There’s something very alluring about you. I haven’t quite put my finger on it yet.” His brow furrows as if he’s trying to pinpoint what it is.
“Oh, yeah?” I answer nonchalantly.
Andre stands, forcing me up and I freeze before him. “Now, relax and give me the kind of dance I paid for.” He stares into my eyes, and I see the flicker. He’s trying to spell me. I blink a few times, feeling off, but realize he didn’t spell me, so now I have to appear spelled.
My mind reels. Everything in me wants to run out of the room. I want revenge and I’ve been willing to go as far as I need to get it, but the closer I get, the more I realize maybe I’m not willing to do a few things. I shake the thoughts, reminding myself of the countless women that have been raped and murdered by the nest this man rules. One provocative lap dance will not kill me, but it will get me closer to killing him. I remind myself I’m still i
n control, even if Andre thinks otherwise.
I lean into Andre, forcing him back on the sofa, using the hand I didn’t hit Jamie with to steady myself. My other hand is throbbing, but I’m fueled by adrenaline as I dance, which seems to dull the pain enough for me to perform. I move my body into his making sure to gaze deeply into his eyes as I do. Turning, I bend down and roll my body up so my behind is in his face.
He exhales loudly and when I turn around his eyes are dark. I recognize that look; I’ve seen it in my own eyes lately. He’s hungry. He wants my body. He wants my blood.
I remain focused, but I’m thrown when he pulls me down, forcing me to straddle him. My stomach lurches as I feel the bulge in his pants between my legs pressing against me.
“I like you here.” He smiles wickedly.
I begin to move again, leaning my body back. I’m repulsed with myself, but I think of my mother, of Sarah, and Rhett, trying to force myself to keep going, as if this dance may be the very act that will get me to my goal. Pulling myself back up using his shoulders, he grabs my arm and holds it close to his face. Pressing his nose into the length of my glove, he inhales deeply. SHIT! My cut. He smells the blood. He looks back at me and his eyes look like they are on fire.
“Stay still,” he orders, as he slowly peels my glove back revealing my bandages. My heart booms in my chest as I watch him pull my saturated bandages down exposing my cut that releases fresh blood when he squeezes my flesh gently.
His eyes cut back to me and his irises are pitch-black. “You won’t remember any of this.” I swallow back the panic burning through me. If he tastes my blood, he’ll know what I am. He places his lips to my wound and I feel him suck, when suddenly his fangs stab into me. Terror surges through me, but then there’s something else. My mouth waters and my breathing increases. I blink myself back to reality and control my heartbeat. After a moment he pulls his mouth away, licking the beaded blood off of my arm, before gently replacing my bandages. He looks at me, his eyes a brilliant gold, and I can see he has something on his mind, but I’m not sure what.
Fatigue crashes over me, as if I’m about to pass out. “You taste delicious,” he whispers in my ear as I lean into him, unable to stop myself. He’s tasted my blood. Does he know I’m a healer? Something tells me he doesn’t or he’d have said something. “You will be mine.” His tone sends a shiver through me.