Olivia climbed onto the DJ’s platform and gave Sadie a pat on the back. Sadie was one of the best spinners out there, living or undead, and Olivia’s oldest, most trusted friend. She was dressed much like the patrons of the club, except Sadie actually was a vamp, and the girl had a serious passion for leather and lace.
“Hey, boss. Feels like a lively crowd tonight.” Sadie winked and smiled. “No pun intended.”
“Did you hear what Maya did?” Olivia kept her eyes focused on the crowd, her senses alert for anything out of the ordinary. A sense of impending doom flickered up her spine. Trouble was coming. “She’s a pain in my ass.”
“Sure did, and she sure is.” Sadie put her headphones around her neck. “Think that girl will ever listen?” she asked with a nod toward the bar, as she laughed and pushed her long brown hair out of her eyes. “’Cause I don’t.”
“Maya’s still young.” Olivia gave Sadie a friendly nudge with her elbow. “It took you a little while to get the hang of it, if I’m not mistaken?”
Sadie was the first vamp she had ever turned. Olivia and Vincent were traveling through a largely unsettled part of Arizona and picked up the distinctly potent scent of blood. The Apache Indians had been attacking settlers at that time, not that Olivia could blame them, and Sadie’s family had been among their victims.
Sadie was barely alive when she found her. The faint beat of her heart called to Olivia, and before she even knew what she was doing, she turned her. It was an instinctive need to save her, to help this poor girl who had lost everything, left seemingly alone in the world.
Vincent, of course, was less than pleased, and that was the beginning of the end for them.
Olivia looked fondly at her friend and smiled. “You have been around a couple hundred years longer than she has.”
“Truth.” Sadie winked and adjusted the headphones around her neck. “You’re just a sucker for hard-luck cases. Face it. You would rescue the world if you could.”
“Not the whole world,” Olivia said dramatically. “Just the ones who really need it.”
“I sure needed it,” Sadie said with a warm smile.
Olivia swallowed the surprising lump in her throat before looking back at the crowd. Sadie had tried to thank her on several occasions, but Olivia never let her get the words out. Deep down inside she felt as though she hadn’t saved Sadie or the others. Perhaps the vampire hunters of the world were right. What if vamps really were damned to burn in hell for eternity? Would anyone thank her then?
“I should get back down there before Maya finds another boy toy.”
Sadie grabbed the microphone and Olivia’s arm before she could escape.
“Everyone having fun?” Sadie bellowed into the silver microphone. The crowd responded with insanely loud screaming and whistling. “Then I think we should all give it up for Olivia Hollingsworth, the owner and proprietor of The Coven.”
Olivia waved to the screaming crowd and shot her friend a narrow-eyed look as she made her way down from the altar. She hated being the center of attention, and Sadie knew it but delighted in razzing her on occasion.
Another loud, bass-driven song tumbled over the crowd as Sadie’s voice floated into her head. Hey, boss. I see our VIP table is full again tonight with your boyfriend and his crew.
Olivia threw an irritated glance over her shoulder at Sadie and shot back. He’s not my boyfriend. He just wishes he was. What a termite. She could hear Sadie stifle a giggle as she navigated the crowd and made her way to Michael’s table.
How long has it been since you got laid? I forget. Olivia did her best to ignore that last jab from her friend. Other than Vincent, Sadie was the only one who knew that Olivia had been celibate since becoming a vampire. Don’t you think you’ve tortured yourself long enough? I never knew this Douglas guy, but if he really loved you the way you say he did, would he want you to spend eternity alone?
I’m not alone. Olivia threw a wink over her shoulder. I’ve got all of you, and sex is overrated anyway.
Damn. Sadie’s laugh jingled through Olivia’s mind. Now you’re just talking crazy.
Olivia shook her head and smiled. Her heart had been stolen long before Vincent made it stop beating, and besides, even if she did have her heart to give, Moriarty certainly would not be a candidate.
Michael was a greasy little worm who used his family’s reputation to get what he wanted. He came to The Coven every Saturday night with his gaggle of dirtbags, and Olivia could smell his fear and feelings of inadequacy a mile away. He’d been trying to get into her pants for months now, and apparently was still trying, even after a multitude of rejections.
She felt his eyes on her all night and had managed to ignore him, but now it was time to play the game. She had to placate the little weasel. Jerk or not, he was a customer—a customer who spent a lot of money in her club.
Olivia flashed the most charming grin she could muster as she approached Michael and his motley crew.
“Hey there, hot stuff.” He leered at her and his lips curved into a lascivious grin. “I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to get your sweet ass over here.”
She wanted to bite his face off. What an asshole.
“Hello, Mr. Moriarty,” she said through a strained smile. “Are you gentlemen finding everything satisfactory this evening?”
“We’re just fine, aren’t we, boys?”
He took a long sip of his martini as he ran his hand up the leg of some young girl who was draped all over him, probably believing he’d make her rich and famous. She definitely didn’t fit in with the other clubgoers. This blond was more mainstream and never would have stepped foot into The Coven if it weren’t for Moriarty. Many humans were easily swayed by money and power. Moriarty had both.
“I’d be doin’ a lot better if you’d come here and sit with me.”
The girl next to him made a noise of disgust, shoved his hand away, grabbed her purse, and stomped off. He shrugged and snickered as she stalked through the crowd toward the door.
“It seems you’ve upset your date, Mr. Moriarty.” Olivia watched the foolish girl run from the club. She probably expected him to chase her. Not likely. “Looks like she’s leaving.”
“She’s not my date,” he spat. “Just some bimbo hanger-on—you know how it is. She should know better than to do that.” His lip curled in disgust as he watched her leave, and the smile faded. Olivia felt the anger roll off him as he stared after her. “I don’t give second chances. One and done. Know what I mean?”
“Yes, of course.” Olivia smiled tightly and looked at him like the black-haired little bug he was. “Well, gentlemen, I hope you’ll let me buy the final round here. It’s almost last call.”
She motioned to the waitress who covered the three VIP tables opposite the bar. Suzie, one of only two humans who worked at The Coven, came over quickly, but Olivia sensed her anxiety long before she arrived at the table.
“Sure, baby.” He leered. “You can buy me a drink.”
Olivia wanted nothing more than to glamour this guy into dancing naked in the middle of the club with only his socks on, but the image alone would have to be enough.
“Suzie. Please get our guests their last round.” She flicked her gaze back to Moriarty. “On the house, of course.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She looked like a skittish lamb surrounded by wolves. She almost hadn’t hired Suzie due to her naive nature, but Olivia was a sucker for hard-luck cases. Suzie was straight from the farm and as green as the fields. By hiring her, she figured she could at least keep an eye on her.
Olivia nodded and said a brief good-bye before working her way to the front door. The place was starting to thin out, since it was just about last call. The tension in her shoulders eased as soon as she set eyes on the only other human who worked at the club—their bouncer Damien.
Damien, unlike Suzie, knew what Olivia and the others were. He was what some referred to as a familiar, but Olivia hated that term. It seemed like a dirty wo
rd, laced with innuendo and ill intent. Most humans who worked with vampires did it out of love and friendship.
However, Damien wasn’t just a friend—he was more like family. He was the only human who knew what Olivia was and kept her secret, and not because he had to, but because he genuinely cared for her. She’d met him when he was a boy, spending most of his time on the streets and clearly heading down a bad path.
She’d heard his cries one night, and even though it was against Presidium rules to interfere with humans and their problems, she couldn’t help it. That cry of a young boy in the dark overrode any rules she was supposed to follow, and before she knew it, she was plucking him from what was sure to be a deadly situation.
She planned to rescue him from the local drug dealer and send him on his way. Yet the second she looked into those soulful, brown eyes, she was hooked. At first, she told herself that she would only check on him for a few nights to be sure he was safe, but those few nights turned into weeks, and then years. Since vampires couldn’t have children, Damien was the closest she’d ever have to a child, and she loved him as if he was her own.
“Hey there, handsome,” Olivia said. She walked through the vestibule crowded with folks leaving for the night. “How’s it going out here?”
“Hey there, boss,” Damien said in his deep baritone.
He gave her his trademark toothy, white smile, the one that completely changed the perception of who he was. He was a wall of solid muscle, stood over six feet tall, and had lovely olive skin. One look from this hulking fellow would send most people running, but in reality, Damien was a giant teddy bear.
“So is everything okay on your end tonight? Nothing, um, out of the ordinary?” Olivia asked as she scanned the exiting crowd warily. Damien raised one eyebrow at her skeptically. “You know, out of the ordinary for us?” she clarified.
“Just the usual fare and a few drunken idiots. I did have one crier though, just a little while ago,” he said as he pulled the velvet ropes in for the night. “She looked pretty upset. I tried to stop her, but she ran away, down toward Sixth Ave.”
“Mmm.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “That was Moriarty’s date.”
“Moriarty’s still here?” Damien had barely finished the question, when Michael appeared in the vestibule with his posse.
“We were just leaving, big guy.” Michael gave him a smack on the back as he walked to the enormous stretch limo waiting at the curb. Olivia put her hand on Damien to keep him at bay. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to go after him, because she wanted to punch the little bastard’s lights out too.
“You know, Olivia, one day that guy is gonna get what’s coming to him,” Damien said quietly as the limo pulled away. “I just hope I get to see it.”
“You know what they say, babe,” she said quietly. “Be careful what you wish for. Besides, his money is as green as anyone’s.”
“I realize you’re not into live feeds like most of your crowd, but boy, does that guy deserve to be dinner or what? I know you can handle yourself, but I don’t like the way he speaks to Suzie or any other woman for that matter.”
“I know.” Olivia smiled and rubbed his arm reassuringly. She knew he had a crush on Suzie but would never admit it. “Suzie is tougher than you think, and you know I’ve always got her back. Besides,” she said in a weary voice, “Moriarty’s not worth the trouble.”
“Hey, you okay?” He looked at her worriedly with his arms folded across his massive chest. “Did you feed today?”
“Yeah, well, not a live feed, obviously,” she quickly added. “Just from my microwaveable stock, which reminds me, we need to place another order with the Presidium’s blood bank.”
She rubbed her temples absently as various patrons pushed past as they left. Live feeds were always best, but Olivia tried to avoid them. While the live feed was most rejuvenating, it was also the most dangerous. Live feeds were like a drug. The more she did it, the more she wanted it, and each time it got harder and harder to stop. Besides, blood memories came with it, and she wasn’t interested in anyone else’s baggage. She had quite enough of her own shit to deal with.
“This incident with Maya earlier really rattled me. She’s got to learn not to feed in or near the club,” she said with frustration. “I don’t want any trouble. I mean, it’s not just my place of business. We live here too.”
“What happened exactly?” Damien asked quietly. He leaned down and looked around to make sure no one would overhear. “I saw her leave with him last night after closing, so how’d she end up back here? I got some of the dirt from Trixie, but then Suzie came around, and well, you know.” He shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
He knew Olivia wanted to keep Suzie in the dark about the vamps because it was bad enough she’d let Damien in on their world. It took years for the Presidium to accept him, and accept would be a generous description of their feelings on humans in the know. Tolerate was a more appropriate word.
“I saw her leave with that meathead last night after closing. I figured she’d ditch him before sunrise, so I locked up and went downstairs to sleep. Then tonight, right after sundown, I go run an errand, and when I come back, I find her in the middle of the club with her boy toy.” Olivia looked past him and through the door at Maya, who was cleaning up the bar. “She obviously brought him back here just before sunrise and messed with him all day long. I’m not sure why she’d do that,” she murmured.
“My guess is that she wanted to get a rise out of you. Want me to talk to her?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll speak to her again before she leaves tonight. She’s my…”
“Responsibility,” Damien finished for her. He sighed and shook his head. “Not everyone is your responsibility, you know.”
“No, but she is.” Olivia patted his shoulder wearily. “I hear the last song of the night.” Sadie always played The Strike Nineteens’s “Forever in Darkness” as the final tune, and the irony was never lost on Olivia. “Time to go inside and clear out the stragglers.”
As she turned to go back inside, an oddly familiar voice floated over, and the scent of the ocean filled her head.
“Excuse me. Can you tell me where I can find Ms. Olivia Hollingsworth?”
Olivia stopped dead in her tracks, and the tattoo on the nape of her neck burned. Her fangs erupted, and little licks of fire skittered up her spine, as one note of that smooth, velvety voice banished all self-control. She closed her eyes and willed her quaking body to settle.
It can’t be.
Terrified and hopeful, Olivia steeled herself with courage she’d forgotten she had. She turned around, excruciatingly slowly, and found herself face-to-face with the man of her dreams and the love of her life.
The problem was he’d been dead for almost three hundred years.
Chapter 2
Doug gaped at her like an idiot. A woman he never expected to see in the flesh stood in front of him, larger than life, staring with the most intense green eyes he’d ever seen—the same green eyes that had haunted his sleep since he could remember. Her curly red hair flowed over slim shoulders and glinted brightly like flickering firelight in the glow of the New York City night. The fire framed creamy ivory skin, which he had the sudden urge to nibble, as he had so many times in his dreams.
The tattoo of the dagger on his back burned, and one word flickered through his mind—the same word he heard when he slept. Eternity. Doug blinked but didn’t take his eyes off hers.
He’d gotten the damn tattoo as a way to make the redheaded goddess from his dreams more tangible, but here she was, looking all kinds of tangible. He dreamt of her ever since he could remember, but now she—or someone who looked just fucking like her—was standing here in the flesh.
She was dressed impeccably in a jet-black suit that hugged her long, well-formed figure. Doug’s mouth went dry, and for a second he forgot how to speak. The most breathtakingly beautiful woman he had ever seen was here, and he stood there staring like a mindless boob.
She looked at him as though he was from Mars, and for a second he thought she was going to laugh right in his face. Speak. For Christ sake, say something, you moron! Doug straightened to his full six feet, two inches and cleared his throat, hoping neither she, nor the giant bodyguard, noticed how she’d thrown him off balance. It was never good for a cop to lose his bearings, especially when investigating a murder and speaking with a possible suspect.
Thankfully, his partner spoke up and saved him from his own stupidity.
“You’ll have to forgive my partner. He’s so used to dealing with the scum of society that he’s forgotten how to speak to a beautiful woman.” Tom quickly flashed a charming smile and his badge to the stunner and the bodyguard. “I’m Detective Tom Daly, homicide. This massive mute next to me is—”
“Doug Paxton, ma’am,” he finally managed to croak out. Doug reached into his jacket pocket and quickly flashed his badge as well.
“I’m Olivia Hollingsworth. How can I help you, officers?” she asked coolly, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Doug cocked his head and eyed her more carefully. Even though her voice remained calm, her body language screamed how uncomfortable she was. She rubbed the back of her neck briefly with one graceful hand, before folding her arms over her chest again.
Now his radar was on full tilt.
Something was up here. He had a knack for sniffing out trouble, and this woman—no matter how gorgeous she was and how much she might look like the siren from his dreams—had it written all over her.
“We’re investigating the death of one Ronald Davis,” Tom said as he perused the small notepad in his hand.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name.” She turned her head slightly toward the bouncer but never took her bright green eyes off Doug. “Do you, Damien?”
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