Was that the name of a movie? Violet wondered. Stupid title. She didn’t know what he was talking about. It sounded like he was calling her an “it” girl. Did he mean that he wanted her to star in one of his films? That couldn’t be.
The guy stepped a little closer to Violet and her hands balled up into fists involuntarily. She backed away suddenly against the side of the elevator. Her breathing sped up. But before he could say or do anything else, the bell dinged as they hit the rooftop floor. At once, she rushed out as the door slid open, brushing past him with an unintentional snarl. She could hear the Fatals laughing behind her.
But something else astonished her once she gained focus on her surroundings. Her eyes couldn’t help but fly open widely when she saw the club. The views over the ocean and city were to die for. So many sparkling lights. The dance floor was set in a terrace garden lit by torches and lined with open-front cabanas. And there were so many recognizable industry people standing around in knockout clothing.
Violet had always dreamed of going to her senior prom. She imagined all sorts of balloons, streamers, and maybe even a big disco ball, but this nightclub was much more impressive than any high school dance could ever be. She took in a forced breath. The music was pounding so hard through the speakers that she could feel the vibrations rise up through her high heeled shoes. Try to act human, she reminded herself, wishing Ariel was here with her for this adventure.
But a part of her felt like she could lose it at any second. Everybody smelled and looked so damn good. She felt like a kid in a candy shop. So many tasty treats that it was almost overwhelming. And already guys were staring at her body and gawking at her. If she wasn’t going out of her mind with strange yearnings, she might have laughed at the absurdity of it. Nobody ever ogled her like these guys were. She figured she must appear as silly as a little girl in a dress up costume, but apparently that was their thing. She was possibly the new “it” girl, according to Chase Stone.
One young man in particular caught her attention. He looked familiar like she had seen him before. He had blond short hair and blue shy eyes. Something about him seemed so wholesome and nice like the kind of boy who could convince you to brush your teeth with Pristine brand tooth paste. He must be a television actor. Maybe she had watched him in a commercial. He was so damn cute and he smelled scrumptious. Oh, so good.
Gosh, what was she thinking? No way would she kill him. Not for a school paper and not even to save her own life from the hand of Lord Viparado who would likely punish her for not doing her homework. According to the Fatals, he expected to see a body in the kitchen tonight from each gang member.
Sadness rushed over her like a sudden wave in the ocean that pulls someone under unexpectedly. Oh, how her heart ached. Her circumstances felt unbearable.
Clenching her jaw, she rushed past the social huddles, weaving her long legs through the people, and finally making her way between two cabanas to the edge of the rooftop. Without pause, she grabbed onto the decorative steel rail. She was hidden out of sight there behind the white draping fabric of the structures.
Again, she forced herself to breathe, this time deeper than the last. The music pounded in her mind. She wished she was in a quieter, serener place, maybe back at the waterfalls of summer past with Radley, a time when life was simpler and more humane.
As she stared out at the calm ocean below, she held so tightly to the metal that her knuckles showed white and red through her skin. The salty wind blew through her shiny black hair that spilled out and down her back in cascading waves. I’m a despicable being, she thought as self-hatred burned in her heart. Killers like me should not exist. It is horrible to murder a human being. We are as repulsive as serial killers. Images of body parts pickled in jars settled in her mind. At that moment as her throat began to throb and thoughts of human blood nearly overwhelmed her senses, she considered throwing herself over the railing to her death.
Contemplations of how she wanted to sink her teeth into the blond boy’s neck were so passionate that in her madness, she actually felt aroused. She imagined running her tongue along his soft skin. How she yearned to feel his veins pulsate underneath her lips. Her breathing started to thicken. Could she do this? Maybe she could. But then, she thought better of it. No, no! Shit—she pulled at the black locks of her windblown hair.
A moment later, she put one high heeled foot into a metal loop, a part of the decorative pattern in the rail, and hoisted herself up. Her hands sweat against the steel. So many thoughts overlapped in her mind. Memories of the hoisted up bodies in the kitchen. Lord Viparado’s pale, cold face just before he whipped her. The dead naked girl on the bear rug.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she lifted her other foot and pulled herself up to a standing position on top of the rail. Her body swayed a little in the wind as she balanced herself. There were the sounds of overlapping conversations behind her coming through the sheets of the cabanas.
Is this what she wanted? Wasn’t it better that she kill herself than kill others? There is no way out, she believed. I am trapped. She wiped at her burning eyes and clasped her throat.
But then, recollections of Radley poured into her mind like a turbulent river rushing through her body. She couldn’t leave him. How would she feel if he killed himself and left her all alone? No, she couldn’t do that to the guy she loved. Yes, he said he didn’t want her, but as much as she believed him at the time, now she couldn’t be so sure. The man at school told her that Radley wanted her to meet him in the rose fields by her father’s house tonight. Shouldn’t she at least hear him out? It was stupid to act so hastily. There is always another way out, she told herself. Keep the faith.
Suddenly, just as she was about to climb down, someone grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to the ground. Her body trembled as she tumbled on top of Chase Stone. Oh, my! The scent of his warm physique accelerated her pulse rate.
“Oh, shit!” he said breathless in that spellbinding voice of his that she recognized from interviews on television. Even curse words sounded beautiful on his luscious lips. He took her face in his hands as he scooted out from under her.
That startled her, but she held as still as a statue for fear of grabbing onto him and sinking her itching teeth into his neck. The heady odor of his blood perfumed the air. And he was damn good looking with his bedroom eyes and the dimples in his cheeks. Where was his usual entourage of supermodels? It was crazy as sin being so close to someone that famous.
“Fucking hell, you’re beautiful, Meggie,” he murmured. His grey eyes were wide with wonder like he was on drugs.
“Meggie?” Violet jumped up to her feet away from him. She laughed and looked straight ahead at the shadows of people through the white fabric of the cabanas.
“What were you doing up there?” he asked, sparks of light dancing in his eyes cast from the glow of the flamed torches that flickered across the way.
Slightly dazed, she shook her head and crossed her arms over her nearly bare chest. “Nothing.” Her voice was defensive. If only she could pull a t-shirt over that damn dress. How could anyone take her seriously looking like such a whore?
This bad boy was playing with fire. She just wanted him to leave her alone for fear she might attack him at any moment. At once, she started to walk away, but he grabbed her by the wrist. Oh, wow—his hand was hot. Just at his touch she could feel the rush of blood flowing through his body. As she spun around to face him, pulling herself out of his grasp, she noticed alcohol heavy on his breath.
“My leading lady.” He held the tips of his thumbs together with his fingers pointing up and looked at her through the box he had made with his hands like he was studying her image on a movie screen.
“Well,” she whispered, shaking her head wondering how a guy could be so self-possessed and still attract so many women. But as she thought about it, she figured it was the musical timbre of his voice, the fact that he was worth billions, and that he was undeniably, breathtakingly gorgeous. A guy like that
could do no wrong. “I don’t know anything about acting aside from some musical theater I did in middle school.” That was an embarrassing admittance. And he probably wasn’t even asking her to act in his film.
“Shit, that could be a problem.” That unlawful voice of his was teasing. “You look a little smarter than stupid, love…”
“Thanks,” she interrupted, her voice sarcastic. Humph… He was making her uncomfortable. From what she had read about him, if any of it was true, she had this gnawing suspicion that he could work his way into any girl’s psyche. He wasn’t doing a very good job with her though. The last thing she was thinking about was having hot sex with him. Really, he had no idea what kind of danger he was in. “As innocent as I seem, I’m warning you, I’m not the kind of girl you want in your bed.”
He chuckled at that. “That must be what you have in mind.”
Her cheeks burned.
With that verbal slap to her face, he stretched his arms up, grinning as he placed his hands behind his head, glancing at her sideways with one eye narrowed. “Henry Greene molds airheads into stars. Megan Fox is beautiful too. Know your intentions; match your own emotional world to the script.” He stared at her a little too long.
Violet rolled her eyes as she put her hand to her throbbing throat. “Whatever all that means,” she said as she wondered if this guy was for real. Most likely this was his game to get women and then after he slept with them, he just forgot about all his vague promises. How stupid did he think she was?
“It’s an action film…” His voice was too seductive as it rambled on like a song that catches you in such an unexpected way deep in your gut causing all sorts of weird sensations that control your feelings. He looked down at his hands with dejected eyes.
What was that about? She was surprised how each word sort of triggered something inside of her. It wasn’t so much what he promised, but his mannerisms or maybe something else that she realized was actually drawing her in. Certainly, the blood factor played into it.
At that, she tried to ignore what she was feeling as he continued, “…so the role isn’t too challenging. Think 007, James Bond.” He leaned against the rail now languorously. “What’s your name?”
It would be difficult to deny that she wasn’t a little curious, but that fact just angered her. She wavered between leaving and staying. Where was she going to go anyway? The Fatals were probably finding guys over at the bar or on the dance floor to lure away to their deaths. Maybe she was just better off staying behind the cabanas with Chase Stone. It was actually quite shocking that he had any interest in her whatsoever. Ariel would probably faint when Violet told her about what happened. She should just see this out to give Ariel a big thrill. They needed more laughter in their lives.
“You still didn’t tell me your name.” He ran his fingers through his short hair as he watched her.
“It’s Violet Paris.” She closed her mouth and ran her tongue along the edges of her teeth to see if sharp incisors had formed. To her relief, they had not.
He smirked looking away past the lit torch toward the gardens. “That sounds like a stage name.”
“It’s not.” She stared at him now, gazing at the vein lifting under his skin on his neck.
He suppressed a smile. “I know. That’s what is so appealing about you?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “What?”
“You’re just so fucking sexy without trying at all. It’s almost like you were an ugly duckling that suddenly turned into a swan and didn’t realize it yet.”
She was surprised how accurate he actually was. As shallow as he seemed with all his women and partying, his clear insight intrigued her more than any of his other mumbo jumbo. If only she could tell him her story. As crazy as that sounded, she so longed to talk it all over with someone who wasn’t a vampire. Anyone. In so many ways, she felt alone. “You’re not as stupid as you look in the media.”
At that, he laughed. “I don’t know what to say to that, Violet Paris.” His eyes narrowed as he watched her.
She walked over to the rail and leaned her back against it leaving considerable space between them. “What would you do if you turned into a vampire and the coven you were in was horribly abusive, forcing you to do terrible things?”
He leered at her question, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’d kill the head vampire and cease the coven for myself.”
Her lips pulled together as a giggle slipped through. “You think a girl like me could do such a thing?”
Now a full smile spread on his face. She was surprised how crooked his teeth were while still looking as sexy as hell. “I think a woman like you could do anything.”
Nobody had ever spoken to her like that. Boy was he good. The possibility that anyone saw her as a person of power surprised her. He must be lying. It was especially shocking that some cocky, billionaire playboy would consider her of any value at all. He must be playing her, but she was still curious in spite of it. “I’m not sure if killing the head vampire would change things. Maybe the vampire government would come after me.”
“Then you’d fight the government.” His eyes seemed to search hers. “The world is your oyster, Violet. You can make it conform to whatever you want it to be. It’s your choice. There are no rules only the limitations you put on yourself.”
A chill ran up her spine. Now she knew why he was so successful. She nodded her head. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, clutching the rail. A little pain clenched in her heart. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, rushing away without looking back.
“Wait.” He chased after her, but she was way too fast as she pushed her way through clusters of people to get out of the loud nightclub and to the elevator. She wasn’t going to kill anyone tonight. Nobody could make her. And she was going to find her way to the rose fields to see the guy who rocked her world.
Chapter Ten
The aroma of fresh red roses was pungent, perfuming the night air. When Violet arrived at the rose fields by her father’s house, it was just past midnight. The sky was black with a crescent moon and sparkling stars overhead. It was silent out except for a gentle wind, crickets chirping, and a slight rustling in the pine trees set off to the side of the abundant flowers. There must be birds tucked between the leaves and branches, she surmised.
But Radley wasn’t in the meadow like she had hoped he would be. Her heart fell. Why didn’t he show up? The man in the office said to meet him at twelve. Maybe Radley waited and left. She bit her nail. It was already twelve minutes after.
Oh, no. She shouldn’t have stopped to drink the blood of that rabbit in the woods on her way there. Had she just missed him? A warm ache filled her heart now. She shook her head in dismay unable to stop a hot tear from rolling down her cheek. With the back of her hand, she wiped it off.
At this moment, all she wanted was to be in his arms. Before she could face her horrible life at the Viparado’s, she wanted to feel his soft lips on her skin, his tongue in her ear, the sound of his breath hot against her neck. She needed this now just to have the will to go on. If only she could run her hand down his naked back, feel the smooth contours and lithe muscles that she longed to caress.
A gentle breeze brushed the side of her cheek causing the scent of roses to fragrant the air even more pungently than before. She broke off a stem careful not to cut herself on the thorns. Her gaze drifted over the soft, rich petals of the bud. It was beautiful, elegant. She peeled back the layers. Her teeth started to itch and in no time the canines elongated on the sides. Feeling a certain arousal, she pushed her fangs deeply into the stamen.
Oh, it felt good as her teeth slid in the spongy center. She imagined it must be a similar sensation when a man enters a woman. Her body shuddered at the smooth, warm wetness surrounding each side as she sucked. With her eyes closed, she saw light flashing in her mind—sparkles igniting, almost like fireworks.
And then she felt Radley’s arms slip around her waist from behind. Oh, sweet everlasting. It was him. It
really was. He didn’t have to say anything—she could tell by his certain touch and mesmerizing scent that it was his cool body pressed up against hers.
At his hold, first coldness and then warmth ensued. His hands glided over her skin as she continued to suck. Once she had started, it was nearly impossible to stop, especially with her mind in such turmoil—she needed this and with Radley there it only deepened the effect. The petals fell to the ground as Radley’s fingers thread under the fold of fabric where the front of her dress plunged. Her breathing accelerated. Did this mean he hadn’t changed his mind about her?
“Oh, Violet,” he said just above a whisper. “I can’t tell you...” His voice sounded hungry, almost emotional like maybe he had been crying. But before she could respond, he put his other hand over her mouth as his free fingers began to explore. “Such torture.”
She wasn’t used to this, but he felt so right, so good. His body felt firmer, stronger than the last time she was in his arms. Then his hand slid over her breast. She gasped in surprise. But as he continued his exploration, she bit down lightly on his fingers and grasped the outside of his jean covered thighs. Her back was pressed against his chest. She had imagined this for so long.
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