We rounded the building’s corner and entered a spacious, modern patio overlooking the water. Bistro tables and tall black chrome heat lamps occupied most of the space. A long bank of fancy grills lined the far side, manned by a burly man in a black muscle T-shirt and black jeans. He gazed in our direction and slapped down the steak he held with grill tongs. Some patrons looked our way, but most ignored us.
Alexander squeezed my hand. “Inside or out?”
I studied the warehouse with its gray tinted windows and enormous, open metal doors. Tables and booths, a bar, a small stage with darkened hallways on either side. Pendant lights suspended from thick chains poked through a drop ceiling of black mesh metal. The room was empty, save a half dozen men hunched over the bar.
“Inside,” I replied.
We strolled to the bar. The bartender observed our approach. The bald vampire, burly like the grill guy and garbed in similar black clothing, struck me as familiar, but my mind couldn’t place him. I wasn’t in the mood to ask. I just wanted to be alone with Alexander.
“Hey, Roland,” Alexander greeted the other vampire.
“Hey, yourself,” Roland the bartender replied, his unblinking, dark eyes fixed on me. I caught a flare of recognition in their depths. “What would you like?”
“House red,” Alexander replied. “You?” A little flash of power curled between our palms as he spoke, arousing me. My knees wobbled. I blinked up at him. Want to devour his mouth with mine. My stomach rumbled again. Focus.
“Um-uh,” I stammered. “Steak-frites sounds good. Grill smells great. And rare, please. I like my steak juicy, the bloodier the better.”
My rambling earned me a raised eyebrow from Alexander and the attention of the vampires at the bar. They had to be the motorcycle owners. Their identical skull-embossed leather jackets screamed Biker Gang.
The vampire nearest me, a lanky and gaunt man, stared at me with scorching silver eyes. I swallowed, snapped my attention to his buzz-cut platinum hair, and managed to add, “A large glass of Cabernet, please. Very large.”
Biker Buzzcut threw back his head and laughed, scrunching the lightning bolt tattoo on his cheek.
All six vampires swiveled back to their drinks.
Alexander led me to a curved booth by the stage. I took a spot against the wall with a view of the room, particularly those bikers. Alexander joined me, also facing the room. Though we no longer touched, my hands tingled with that strange, pins-and-needles power.
I wiggled my fingers. “What’s that?”
Roland the bartender arrived in a whoosh of air, delivering my napkin-wrapped silverware and a glass of red wine filled to the brim, along with a ruby red decanter and matching glass for Alexander. He departed just as quickly.
“Power.” Alexander poured himself some blood. He swirled it, scented it then took a sip followed by a long drink.
He was drinking blood like a fine wine. As I’d suspected in the car, thanks to my childhood memories, the act seemed perfectly normal.
I picked up my glass and took a big swallow. Smooth and dry. A good Cab. “I don’t understand. What am I supposed to do with the power? Is it yours?”
He gave me a heart-stopping smile. “No. Your hand, your power. And nothing. For now.”
Our eyes locked, his full of wicked promise. I sipped my wine and reminded myself I was here to eat. Food.
My phone rang and I dug it out of my coat. The tingling energy in my hands disappeared as abruptly as it had arrived. Blocked ID on the screen. I ignored the call.
Answer the phone, cara mia, a familiar voice ordered.
My eyes darted around the room. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Nothing, I guess.” Go away, Thomas, I’m busy!
Rispondi al telefono, Carina. Or we do this in your head.
I grabbed my temples. “Ow. That hurt.”
Alexander scowled, scanning the restaurant for trouble.
My cell phone rang again and this time I answered it. “What do you want, Thomas?”
“Put Alex on the phone, please.”
“What? No hey, cara mia, sorry for chewing on your arm the other night and putting you in a coma. How ya feeling? All better now?” My voice dripped with sarcasm.
He ignored my crankiness. “Now, child.”
“Don’t call me child.” I waved the phone at Alexander then put it on the table in speaker-mode. “He wants to talk to you.” And I wanted to hear what Thomas intended to say to my date.
“You were told to collect her and bring her directly here. Come now.”
Alexander swirled the blood in his glass. “We’re having dinner. We’ll stop by later.”
“You will come now.” Thomas’s voice pervaded the room. Biker Buzzcut’s back snapped straight and he swiveled his stool in our direction. Roland said something to him and he frowned in response, silver eyes locked on me. Foreboding frolicked up and down my spine.
“She needs food, Thomas. She’s human, or do you only remember that when it’s convenient?”
“Insolent Youngling.” The room’s temperature dropped. How did Thomas do that over the phone? I shivered and rubbed my arms.
Biker Buzzcut shot to his feet. His gang followed suit, making me regret my rebellious decision to do speaker-phone. I unrolled my napkin and grasped the steak knife. Alexander eyed the knife and followed my stare. His lips curled in a snarl.
My food arrived at the end of a huge muscled arm covered in serious ink from shoulder to wrist. The vampire grill meister. “Uh, Zio Tommy, gotta go, my food is here.” I ended the call and slid the phone into my coat pocket.
The aromas of fried potatoes and grilled meat teased my nose and rumbled my stomach, but I didn’t dig in due to that pesky problem brewing across the room. The grill meister zoomed over to Biker Buzzcut. Roland, too, invaded the biker’s space. Alexander flashed to his feet and stood guard in front of our table. My hand clenched my knife so hard the handle dug into my palm.
But the vampires did nothing at all. Two brick-wall good guys and one equally tall but skinny-as-hell bad guy poised like statues by the bar. The seconds passed. Energy skittered across my skin, this time from Alexander. My hands tingled again, the power stronger this time. And hot.
Carina, va bene? You feel strange. Thomas again.
Si, just starving, I lied. You can feel me? Ew!
Of course. And you are lying. What is happening?
Nothing much.
Alexander slid into the booth. The bar area had emptied, vampires gone. I eased my death grip on the knife.
Cara mia.
I pointed at my head and mouthed ‘Thomas’ for Alexander’s benefit. “We’re fine, Thomas, just eating, okay? Geez, give us a break already. Trying to have a date, here.”
Alexander lips curled in a sexy grin.
No reply from Thomas.
“I think he’s gone.” Let’s keep it that way. I extracted a technique from Faith’s groovy bag of tricks. To keep telepaths, psychics, and hopefully mind-chatting vampires out of one’s head, construct a mental block. I pictured a locked door in an endless wall of stone. Guess we’d find out soon enough if it worked.
My inner groovy moment took mere seconds. “What’s up with the blond biker dude?”
Alexander surveyed the empty bar. “I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Interesting. “You’re not fully in their game are you?”
“What do you mean?”
I snagged a fry from my plate. “I mean, you might hang out with Thomas and crew but you’re out of the loop. I am, too, clearly, though I guess bite night was step one in my return to the in-crowd.” I plopped the fry in my mouth.
His gaze targeted my lips. “What’s your point?”
“My point is those vampires didn’t pay much attention to us until they heard Thomas on speaker phone. Then suddenly, we’re the center of their universe. I don’t like it. Something is going on and
we need to find out what it is before it sneaks up and bites us on the ass. Like it almost did a minute ago.”
Alexander drained his glass and refilled it. “Fair enough. You eat. I’ll tell you what little I know.”
~ * ~
“Yum,” I moaned around my first bite of the steak, grilled to perfection. I devoured it, sopping up every last drop of its juice with the thin cut fries. The prickly power in my hands subsided as I ate.
Alexander watched me from start to finish, amused and pleased.
I plopped the last juice-drenched fry in my mouth and washed it down with a swig of wine. I was fuzzy from the Cabernet and happily full of steak with one goal now. Cuddle up to my hot friend and play with his hair. Groovy problems be damned.
“You look better,” he observed, distracting me from my tipsy musings.
“Better than what?”
“Than before. At the clinic.”
Right, the clinic. “Why did you do it?”
He arched a sexy brow. “Do what?”
“Stay in my room every night. Must’ve been pretty boring.”
“Not at all.” His smoky eyes glinted with heat.
“Oh.” Shyness tangled my tongue. Not my usual mode, but with Alexander, my senses overloaded and I had to remember to breathe, blink, swallow, smile, nod, form a sentence, say it out loud. Like now. Now would be a good time to say something.
I finished my last drop of wine. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” His deep velvet voice skimmed across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He traced my hand, his touch light as dandelion fluff. I expelled a ragged breath. Warmth built between my legs and my pulse quickened. Want him. More contact, please.
A drop of blood decorated his lower lip. On impulse, I wiped it away then licked my finger clean. So good.
Alexander made a strangled sound and hauled me into his arms. “You call to me like no other,” he rasped.
His chest muscles quivered under my hands, his heartbeat a rapid staccato. From arousal or the blood he’d consumed? A little of both, I’d bet.
“You sound like the older vampires now. I thought you were young,” I teased while I vied with the vertigo spinning my head. Must not lose my dinner. Talk about a mood killer.
“I am. But it’s true. The first time I saw you—”
“At Haven,” I interjected.
“Outside of Haven, actually. It was like I’d been gutted with a sword.”
“Ouch and, c’mon, that was the siren call you heard?” I scoffed.
He nuzzled my forehead.
My eyes fluttered shut. That didn’t help the lightheadedness or my ability to focus on this conversation. Breathe. “So, you saw me outside my club,” I prompted, forcing my eyes wide.
“It was a Saturday night.” His warm breath fanned my skin. “I was at Eighteenth and Castro and you passed right in front of my car with your friends.”
He showered soft kisses on my temple, my cheek, the curve of my jaw. My core clenched, fingers curling into his solid pecs.
“I saw you walk into Haven and...” He put a smidge of space between us.
Don’t stop. I opened my eyes. “And?”
“I double-parked my car outside your club, argued with your security about that, and then Adrian came and let me in.”
“Oh.” The wine-induced dizziness subsided. My hands roamed from his chest to his biceps. Smooth and solid, no hint of flab. Want you to wrap them around my body while you take me from behind. My little fantasy expelled the air from my lungs in a loud rush. Energy pulsed from my hands, hot and bubbly. His muscles twitched in response.
“Adrian was amused I’d followed a girl into the club.” His hands curved around my waist. “Until he realized it was you. He told me who you were, but he wasn’t happy about it.”
“What did you do then?” My voice wavered, his touch devastating, distracting.
His grip tightened. “I left.”
“Why?”
“The law according to Thomas. Your club is off-limits to all non-humans, except on Sundays. You yourself are off-limits to all vampires every day. Or you were then, anyway.”
I frowned. “You’re saying my uncle forbade you to see me?” This was so Romeo and Juliet. I didn’t like it. That story never ended well.
A hand slid to my back, pressing possessively. “Yes.”
I rolled my eyes. Thomas, interfering in my life. Again. “How long did you obey?”
His eyes narrowed. “Too long. But I sensed your presence after that whenever you were nearby. You spend a lot of time in my neighborhood after dark.”
“Adrian said the exact thing to me.” I bit my lip. Oops, now he knew I was talking about him. I felt myself blush like a crushing teenager.
He grinned at my discomfort. “You were hard to avoid. So I stopped trying. I showed up at the museum though I knew Thomas would intercept me. But it was worth it, to have you finally see me. I had to know.”
Talk time was over. We stared. And stared. And stared some more.
His smoky blue eyes bled to black and his power pushed at me, hot and hard, causing a response inside me, like a rumbling volcano deep in my core. My eyes widened. Was this the power my family had mentioned? No longer dormant and infinitely more intense than a little static electricity in my palms.
Alexander crushed his lips to mine. Need roared through me leaving me breathless with edgy hunger.
My hands burrowed into his thick, silky hair, holding his head as if he might try to escape. He growled his approval against my lips, his kiss growing more insistent. His tongue explored my mouth. He tasted metallic, like the blood he’d consumed. Again, I found I liked the taste. My tongue danced with his and delved into his mouth, searching for more penny metal flavor. He groaned and tightened his embrace.
I thought we’d devour each other forever, but Alexander stiffened and his head snapped up. His eyes glinted black as night, wild with lust and...aggression? He bared his teeth in a snarl, canines morphing into fangs. Long, sharp, lethal.
On instinct, I pushed against his chest to get some distance between those teeth and my neck. He ignored me, head whipping around to survey the room. A feral growl erupted from his throat and he shoved me under the table.
My cries of protest were drowned out by animalistic roars and breaking furniture. From my spot under the table, I felt around on the bench for my coat, all the while keeping an eye on the room. Dark blurs flitted back and forth, pieces of table and chair flew by...Bingo. My coat. I searched the pocket for my phone. Once in hand, I hit the button for my boys.
The fighting around me stopped. The familiar techno ring tone of Mark’s phone broke the sudden silence. He’s here?
The table above me was tossed away. Steel hands grabbed my legs and dragged me, face down. I dropped the phone and flattened my palms on the floor, trying to resist. One hand bumped into a steak knife and I grabbed it. My assailant flipped me over and lunged. I aimed for his heart but the knife plunged into his throat. Fine by me.
The vampire let out a strangled growl and fell back. I scooted away through the mess of broken tables and chairs. A tattooed arm peeked out from under one of the tables along with a small pool of blood. The Grill Meister was down. Where was Roland the Bartender? No sign of his bald head on the ground. I hoped that meant his help was imminent.
Mark’s phone stopped ringing. A large, limp body flew at me and I rolled to the side. The body hit the ground, just missing me. It was Mark, eyes closed, face a bloody mess.
My gut wrenched. Heart in my throat, I scrambled to him and checked his pulse. There, not strong, but there.
“I have another one over here. Want it?” asked a man with a thick British accent.
By the doorway, the vampire I’d named Biker Buzzcut dangled a limp male body by an arm. He waved it at me like it weighed no more than a bar towel.
Ren. My throat closed on a scream. A strangled whimper escaped.
“Yes? No?” the vampire prompted.
If I said yes, would he throw my friend? If I said no, would he kill him, assuming he wasn’t already dead? I had to risk the affirmative.
“Yes.”
“Then come and get him, luv.” Biker Buzzcut opened his hand. Ren crumpled to the floor.
I climbed to my feet and stumbled through the debris, eyes on Ren. Please be alive. Were Faith and Kai here, too? Please, no. They weren’t the fighters of our group, though Kai would object to that assessment. He was good, but not as good as Mark and Ren—and look what happened to them.
“Leave her alone, Dixon,” Alexander growled.
Two vampires pinned him to the floor.
“You think you can stop me, Youngling?” Amusement colored Dixon’s voice.
“Not me. Thomas. Touch her and he’ll rip out your heart and ram it down your fucking throat.”
“Ah yes, the Warden.” Dixon targeted me with searing silver eyes and his power shoved me to my knees.
He moved in a blur of speed and reappeared in front of me. He was tall, six feet and change, skeletal under his black leather jacket and tight leather pants. He wore no shirt, just a vest held together with tiny metal chains, showing way too much of his opaque skin crisscrossed with scars and blue veins. Dark shadows hung under eyes as black as the lightning bolt tattoo on his cheek.
If I hadn’t already known he was a vampire, I would have guessed biker zombie.
“Tell me, human, do you belong to Thomas? Is he your master? Lover? No, not lover, judging from your public display with the youngling. The Warden never shares.”
“I’m no one’s property.” My body trembled with the need to flee, but his power locked me in place.
“No?”
I shook my head, unwilling to respond to his probing questions. Why did he call Thomas The Warden? A play on his surname? I sensed it was more.
“The Warden cares little for humans.” He stroked my cheek. “Yet here you are. And he called you on the phone. A phone!”
He laughed. Others did, too. The outdoor diners watched the show, disinclined to help. I didn’t like being their dinner show.
Haven Page 11