by Mary Abshire
Glancing around the Italian restaurant, I counted maybe six customers total, four of whom took their meals inside. The sun and muggy air must have been too much for them. After I informed my waiter I was waiting on someone, he retreated inside as well. Guess he didn't enjoy the weather either.
Body temperature rising, I lifted my hair off my shoulders and held it in a ponytail. A breeze whipped by just in time, only the temperature wasn't what I'd expected. Heat instead of a cool wind brushed over the back of my neck.
"Jessie." Jeremy put his hand on my shoulder. "Thank you for waiting." He kissed my cheek.
The elevated climate change had to be because of the demon. I was grateful I'd dressed in light clothing.
Jeremy pulled out the iron chair next to me, then sat. His bulky muscles protruded with grace under the expensive polo shirt he wore. Black sunglasses hid his eyes.
"You're late," I complained nicely as I lowered my arms.
"Traffic."
The waiter approached us with menus in hand and asked if we wanted anything to drink. Jeremy ordered a bottle of some kind of wine. I wasn't much of a wine drinker, hard liquor suited me better, but I figured what the hell. Who drank whiskey with pasta, right? As I glanced at the menu, the waiter read off the specials. He asked us if we cared for appetizers and Jeremy declined. The waiter smiled and finally left to place our drink orders.
"What's good here?" I asked as I scanned over the selection in the menu. The Italian titles confused me. At least the descriptions were in English. I skipped over the titles and stuck to reading the smaller print.
"The eggplant with pasta is the best. You'd love it." He folded the menu and set it on the cloth-covered table.
The waiter came out with a small basket, two glasses, and a bottle of wine tucked under one arm. He set the items down except for the bottle of vino. As he unscrewed the cork, he asked if we were ready to order.
"Are you ready, darling?" Jeremy asked me.
I glared at him, then folded my menu. "Yes, I am, darling, but why don't you go first," I mocked with a playful smile.
Jeremy grinned as he leaned back in his seat. He had a suave look about him, relaxed, confident, and dominating. Damn, he was eye-catching with his big muscles and strong jaw. I couldn't tear my eyes from him or stop my heart from beating faster than normal.
The waiter poured the dark red liquid into my glass while Jeremy read off his order, linguine allo something. Whatever. After Jeremy finished, I ordered the lobster ravioli. If I’d dared to say the real name for my dish, I would've butchered the hell out of it. Once the waiter filled Jeremy's glass and confirmed our orders, he disappeared back into the restaurant.
Jeremy shook his head. Smiling wide, he revealed his pearly whites. "I should have known you wouldn't order it. Had I suggested the ravioli, you would have ordered the eggplant."
"Now that's not exactly fair. You don't know me that well," I protested with a bat of my lashes.
Leaning forward, I peeked under the thin paper in the basket. Small, cube-sized pieces of bread waited for consumption. I picked one out and nibbled on it.
"Oh, but I'd like to," he said, voice full of innuendo. He held his glass under his nose, sniffed, and then sipped. Then, he set the liquor on the table. "It's not often I meet a blue-eyed demon."
The last sentence prompted me to drink, and I did. The tart flavor didn't impress me.
"Where are you from, Jessie?" His eyes appeared ghostly behind his dark shades.
"A land far, far away. I made a wish and here I am." I smiled.
He grinned back at me. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"Under the advice of my counsel…no." I gave a single shake of my head.
"Your dead friend?"
"Yes—he is dead." Legs still crossed, I rocked my foot.
"How long have you known him?"
"Long enough." Avoiding further explanation, I took a healthy swig of wine. Good thing the waiter left the bottle.
Jeremy watched me with a calm curiosity. "The dead can be troublesome at times."
"You have no idea."
Leaning forward, he slid his hand over my knee. "I can help you get rid of him."
The sweltering hand on my knee muted my voice. I watched the movements of his hand over my knee. The heat penetrated deep under my skin, flowed up my thigh and into my groin, arousing a suppressed need within me. My gaze veered sharply from his hand to his face. Cunning eyes and a devilish grin warned me of his intentions. I snapped out of my trance.
"I don't need help getting rid of him, but there is something else you might be able to help me with."
"How can I help you?"
I sipped on my wine while I considered the best way to respond. I didn't need to share with him all the details of whom I was after and why I was visiting. He was a demon. He wouldn't care about the wicked ways of some vampire. If I told him the truth, he'd probably laugh in my face and refuse to help me. So why bother with the details? I didn't need him to catch Alexander or destroy him. What I needed was help finding our rogue vamp. I needed an extra set of eyes.
Prepared with my answer, I opened my mouth, but the waiter appeared with our dishes in hand so I decided to wait. Jeremy removed his hand from my knee and slid back into his seat. After the waiter disappeared, I pushed aside all thoughts of asking for Jeremy's help and dove into my ravioli.
"You still haven't answered my question," he reminded me as he twirled the pasta around his fork.
The taste of soft lobster filled my mouth, and I savored it, crushing it slowly between my teeth. Seafood was my favorite.
I finished chewing on a piece of plump ravioli and swallowed. "I'm looking for my cousin."
"A demon?"
"No," I quickly answered, then wished I hadn't been so honest. The word slipped from my mouth before I could stop it. Since it was too late to take it back, I'd have to tell him the truth.
His inquisitive eyes drilled me. "Who then?"
"A dead man walking."
Jeremy stuffed another fork full of pasta into his mouth. Brows pinched, he stared at me while he chewed. To my surprise, the man had good manners, keeping his mouth shut and not making a lot of noise.
After he swallowed, he gave me a frosty look and asked, "Another vampire?"
"Let's just say he's my cousin, and he's created a lot of drama in the family." Keeping my eyes on him, I pushed half a piece of ravioli into my mouth.
"A mafia drama." He smirked. "I like the sound of this."
I chuckled in my head. The analogy seemed appropriate. "I can't keep track of him. He's a bar hopper."
"You want me to find him for you?"
"Not exactly." I wiped my mouth with the cotton napkin. "I need an extra set of eyes. If he shows up, I want you to notify me. I'll give you a list of clubs he frequents."
He removed a piece of the bread from the basket in the center of the table. "And what happens to your cousin if I help you find him?"
"It's not for you to concern yourself with."
"I'm not going to have this mafia family coming after me, am I?"
"No. Absolutely not."
He poured more wine for both of us, then picked up his glass by the stem. His eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look as he stared at his drink. "I will need something from you in return for my…extra set of eyes."
Stomach full, I lifted my wine, then leaned back in my chair. His demand didn't surprise me. All supernatural creatures had a price for their services. With Jeremy being a demon, I had to be extra careful negotiating with him. Demons were crafty. If I didn't know better, I'd say demons created the fine print in contracts.
"I'll give you my real cell phone number," I offered in exchange for his assistance.
"Jessie, I have a feeling you are one special person."
"I am." I grinned widely.
He leaned forward, capturing my gaze. "You are the woman of my fantasies."
Laughter burst from me and I slapped my hand on my knee.
"Well, I've been called many things, but never that." I imbibed more wine while I tried to block any thoughts about what fantasies he had.
He set his glass down, then placed his hand on my knee. I froze as more heat rushed up my thigh. He slid his fingers under my skirt. "Come home with me, Jessie."
The need between my legs rose as he moved further up my thigh. My heart pumped faster. A fiery passion within me raged, as if fueled by gasoline. I swallowed hard and fought to ignore the intense desire burning inside me.
"Stop!" I placed my hand over his and stopped its upward slide. He was dangerously close to touching me intimately, and if he did, I might not be able to resist him. "Will you help me or not?"
He slowly removed his warm hand. "I will—for your cell phone number and the promise of another date."
I sighed and looked away from him. With another date, he had another chance to make a move on me and another chance I might give in. But with his help, I could find Alexander quicker. Was his offer such a bad one?
I gave him my attention. "Okay."
While we finished off our wine, I provided him with a description of my "cousin." Jeremy said he thought he had seen him before, but he never paid much attention to the dead. I gave him the list of clubs Alexander frequented and told Jeremy to call me on Drake's phone if he saw the evil vamp out on the town. With our formalities out of the way, I stood up to leave. I didn't want another unexpected kiss.
Jeremy grabbed my hand, stopping me in my tracks. "You haven't given me your real cell phone number."
I took a deep breath, then provided him with my digits. Secretly, I hoped he'd forget them. In reality, I knew the demon had memorized my number. After I gave him what he wanted, he let go of my hand.
"Can I expect a call from you if you locate my…cousin?" I asked.
A devilish grin materialized on his face. "Yes. You can definitely expect to hear from me."
I managed to leave without a kiss.
Chapter Twelve
Night was settling over the city when I arrived back at the condominium. As I stepped into the lobby, with its shiny floors and flashy gold fixtures, cool air crashed into me and my hair went flying off my shoulders. The wind felt good against my warm skin. I slowed my pace to enjoy the cool breeze. I'd taken my time walking off my dinner and basked the late evening sun while I browsed at store windows. Now, my feet screamed exhaustion and throat was dry. Man-oh-man, did I need quench my thirst.
It was too early to visit any clubs and I didn't want to face Drake. I knew that once I stepped past the door, he'd interrogate me with a thousand and one questions about my date. If I revealed I had brokered a deal with Jeremy, Drake would probably burst a blood vessel. I really didn't need the added stress. Avoiding an unpleasant confrontation, I headed for the lounge. I had plenty of time to sit down, relax, and soak in a few drinks.
Six martinis later, my mind was in a state of bliss as I rested in a cushioned chair near the window. Three other guests, a couple and a young woman who seemed to be waiting for someone, occupied the three seats closest to me. The lounge had filled and the chatter of voices drowned out the jazz music that poured from speakers. Three men sat at the bar and kept eyeing my legs. Since I wasn't in the mood to flirt, I turned my gaze away from them.
Drake appeared later as I was accepting my seventh martini from the waiter. While I paid for my drink, he spoke to the female sitting in the chair next to me. I couldn't hear him, but he must have asked her to leave because she did. The waiter left too.
When Drake claimed the vacated chair, I held up my martini in a toast to him. His long arms draped over the cushioned armrests while his eyes surveyed the collection of martini glasses on the table next to me and in front of me.
"I got thirsty." I shrugged.
"How was your date?"
I sighed, wishing for once that he'd greet me with a warm hello instead of with a question. Delaying my response, I took a big swig of my martini. The dry liquor warmed my throat.
"It went well. We have an extra set of eyes looking for him." I set the glass down on the table in front of me since the one at my side didn't have any open space left.
Drake's attention shifted to the men at the bar—the same men who had been gawking at my legs. The lethal expression Drake directed their way and a slight curl of his upper lip gave cause for alarm. He dug his fingers into the arms of the chair. I had a bad feeling he was about to start trouble, or at the very least make claw marks in the armrests.
"Drake." I placed my hand over his. "Don't."
He turned his gaze to me, then down at where I was touching him. The tension within him slowly receded. He gently grasped hold of my hand. The cool touch felt good, so I didn't pull it away from him.
"You have no idea what they are thinking," he snarled.
"Let me guess, they are working on a way to ask me for my phone number."
Seeing the tips of his pointed teeth peeking from his lip, I wiped the grin from my face. The man was deadly serious, and here I was making a joke.
"I'm kidding. I'm not stupid. Why do you think I've been waiting here?" I wasn't afraid of them at all, but they gave me a good excuse for sitting in the bar for so long.
He looked at the men at the bar. Still clasping my hand, he caressed the top of it with his thumb. His soft movement cooled my hand. Hairs on my arm stood at attention.
"If you were afraid of them, you should have called me."
"I'm not afraid. Besides"—I lifted a shoulder—"I knew you would come eventually."
I reached for my martini. As I brought it to my lips, Drake reached for the glass and took it out of my hands.
"Hey!" I protested.
He set the drink out of my reach, then stood with my hand still within his. "We should leave."
"Now?" I looked at the martini I'd purchased. "But I haven't—"
"Yes, now!" He tugged me into motion.
"Okay, but I have to stop at the ladies' room. My bladder is about to explode."
Without arguing, he let go of my hand, and I headed into the bathroom.
Minutes later, I stepped away from the lavatory. Drake stood nearby with his hands hidden in the pockets of his black pants. I smiled as I approached him.
"I want you to meet a friend of mine," he said, leading the way to the elevator.
I walked next to him and the cool caress of his energy graced my warm skin. "Here?"
"No, we are going to meet her."
We stepped onto the elevator at the same time. "Her?"
The doors shut, then we traveled down a few levels. I stared at Drake, waiting for an answer. He didn't give me one.
"A vampire?" I asked, hoping for more details.
"No, not a vampire."
I pondered over his statement as we walked toward his car. I wondered what other supernatural beings he kept company with since this female wasn't a vampire. I didn't picture him partying with demons, Weres, or witches. Heck, I didn't picture him the parting type at all. Once again, his less-than-informative answer left me longing for more.
Minutes later, Drake zoomed out of the parking garage. An awkward silence occupied the time while he drove to our destination. I hated not knowing what type of person I was going to meet or where I was going. He was forcing me to trust him and I had a huge problem with that. I didn't trust anyone except my close friends and Sean.
"I thought we were going to try and find Alex?" I asked, unable to withstand the lengthy silence.
"We will, after you meet my friend."
I twisted in my seat with my arms folded and stared out the window. Under the veil of the night, the city appeared bright and full of energy. Skyscrapers lit up the sky while restaurants, shops, and traffic illuminated the streets. There was plenty to do, plenty to see, and plenty of potential victims for Alexander to snatch. I wanted to be out looking for him.
After a fifteen-minute drive, Drake pulled off the Interstate. The area looked familiar with plenty of dark alleys and less-than-popu
lated sidewalks. We'd visited a club in the area before. I just couldn't recall which one.
Drake turned into an alley. The smell of cigarettes percolated through the air vent. I held my breath in an effort to ignore the stench. Past the building was a small loading zone area. He parked behind a van. Dark alley. Unmarked van. The situation reeked of nothing good. I hesitated to open my door.
"Where are we?" I asked. Nervous energy kept me on edge. "And don't say trust me."
"I told you I would never hurt you. I gave you my word to return you alive and in one piece. Why don't you believe me?"
I frowned, not wanting to venture down that road again.
Drake hid his face from me. He shook his head and his long hair swayed. I was tempted to touch his locks as they looked as soft as silk. But I didn't have a chance. He exited the car and strode around the back. When he opened my door, my heart jumped. He stood with a trustworthy smile and his hand extended toward me.
I accepted his offer and rose from my seat. His cool touch and strong yet gentle persona eased my worries. Although everything I knew about his kind warned me about him, a part of me felt safe with him. His strength and confidence flowed into me and I felt ready to take on the world. We were a team, and he was my support, my partner. He had the physique and menacing look to play the bodyguard role perfectly.
As we turned the corner, the recognition of where we were hit me fast. Seeing the overzealous bouncer standing near the glass door brought me to an immediate halt.
"You can't be serious."
"He won't touch you. Nobody will," Drake said.
"You're giving me your word. Nobody will touch me?" I asked, needing additional assurance. I didn't like the gothic club—not because it was gothic, but because of judgmental fools, the hateful stares, oh, and the guy who wanted to follow me. Did I need another reason not to want to go back in?
"You have my word." He gave my hand a hearty squeeze.
"Okay." I moved forward.
Hand-in-hand, we proceeded toward the plump bouncer. Drake's grip remained strong. Energy flowed between us, stimulating my nerves, my muscles, and everything in between. Even the sleeping sexual need within me awakened. Since he held on tight to my hand, I wondered if he too felt some bit of pleasure.