by Sadie Moss
I should’ve known it was pointless. Grace had latched onto her discovery like a pit bull clinging to its favorite chew toy.
“I can’t get over it! You’re, like, glowing or something.” Her eyes narrowed. “Oh my God. Did you get laid?”
Heat flooded my cheeks, and even though the bar was noisy, I shushed her quickly.
“No!” Then I hesitated. That was probably the safest explanation for all this, and it would definitely distract her. “All right, maybe.”
Grace grinned triumphantly. I tried to slip past her toward the bathrooms, but she blocked my path.
“Nuh-uh. You’re not getting away that easily. Who is this guy? Tell me about him!”
I froze, momentarily tongue-tied. I didn’t have a lie prepared for this.
“Um… Well, he’s really tall.” An image of the nameless man with dark hair flashed through my mind. “Six-foot-four maybe. With broad shoulders.” Jerrett’s piercing blue eyes hovered in my memory, nearly stealing my breath. “Blue eyes.” Sol’s kind face followed, with his serious expression and messy golden hair. “Wavy blond hair, and a little dimple in his chin.”
“Day-um! Go, Willow!” Grace raised her eyebrows, smirking at me. “So does he have a brother?”
I swallowed. No, he doesn’t have a brother, he has two.
And the man I’d just described was an amalgamation of all of them. How did I remember their faces so well? I hadn’t spent more than a few minutes with them.
“Uh… I don’t know. I’ll ask him for you,” I muttered, staring down into my drink like there was a prize at the bottom.
“Well, either way, I’m glad you’re getting some hot man action. ’Bout time!” Grace elbowed up to the bar next to me and flagged down Pete. “Hey, Petey! Two shots of Patron. My girl needs to celebrate!”
Pete grinned and slid the drinks down the bar. Grace toasted me before tossing hers back like a pro. I mirrored her action more slowly, unable to keep the grimace off my face as the alcohol burned its way down my throat. Everything about it was more intense with vampire senses, and I coughed as I set the empty glass on the bar.
Grace winked at me then slipped away to check on her tables.
As the burn in my throat eased, it was replaced by a deeper ache in my chest. I rubbed my sternum absently, hardly noticing how the guy next to me followed the movement of my hand before his gaze slid lower, ogling my breasts.
As sweet as Grace was to be excited for me, none of what she thought we were celebrating had actually happened. I hadn’t had a hot hookup with some amazing guy—I’d been attacked by a supernatural monster, turned into a vampire by three mysterious brothers, and then unceremoniously tossed out on my ass.
If anything, I was drinking to forget.
With that thought in mind, I nodded to Pete for another shot. Then another.
I hadn’t drunk this heavily since the night I’d decided to ask Kyle for a divorce. Given my lightweight status, I should’ve been seeing double by the time I plunked down the third empty shot glass. But although I felt buzzy and light, I wasn’t falling off my chair yet. Maybe being a vampire affected how I metabolized alcohol too. I hadn’t read anything about that in my online research.
A little while later, Grace went on break and came looking for me again. Maybe she’d noticed me inexplicably moping into my drink, because she hauled me off the stool I’d settled onto and dragged me over to the dance floor.
This was the part of the night I usually dreaded most as a cocktail waitress. The crowd was getting looser, sloppier, and more people pressed themselves onto the dance floor that dominated one corner of the large space. When I was trying to work, it was sort of a pain in the ass. More spilled drinks, more wandering hands.
But as a slightly tipsy bar patron?
It was freaking amazing.
Grace nodded encouragingly as I moved along with the song blaring through the speakers. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d danced in public. But the throbbing beat of the music, the low, flickering lights, the gyrating bodies and rapid thrum of dozens of heartbeats around me—it all swept me away, pulling me out of myself, erasing my worries and fears.
I hadn’t gotten drunk from the alcohol. But I was drunk on this.
Twisting and whirling, I lost sight of Grace. But I didn’t care. Other bodies moved in to fill the space around me, and I let myself be swept away.
There was plenty of time to return to reality later.
After all, I had all the time in the world now.
12
Malcolm
I watched her from the shadows of the bar. No one noticed me at the edge of the crowd in the darkness. She certainly didn’t.
But everyone noticed her.
I wasn’t the only one staring. In a room full of beautiful women, this dark-haired goddess stood out like a fallen star. Her beauty and energy cast a glow on everyone around her.
She’s perfect.
Lust poured toward her from the human men in the room, though she seemed to be totally unaware of it. Her head was thrown back, her eyes nearly closed as her hips moved rhythmically, her delicate hands twisting through the air.
I remembered what it’d been like for me back at the start. It was like being reborn, seeing the world I thought I knew through a fresh set of eyes and experiencing every sensation for the first time. For a while, I’d been satisfied living in wanton carnality, indulging the whims of my flesh. Like her, I’d sought out throngs of people, not even aware I was doing it. Being surrounded by bodies with fresh blood pumping through them had given me a high like no alcohol or drug ever could.
A man stepped up to her, his grasping hands latching onto her hips as he matched his rhythm to hers. I watched them move together with an unpleasant mixture of jealousy and arousal twisting in my stomach. The fucking lech didn’t deserve to touch her body like that. He didn’t know the value of the gem he was pawing at.
Willow.
That was her name.
Sol had told it to me, a quiet pride in his voice as he spoke. As if she’d given him some kind of gift by telling him her name first.
But she had, and jealousy burned through me to think he’d known it before I did. Why hadn’t I asked her name? Told her mine? We’d been alone together in that room when I fed her, our gazes locked together—and yet I hadn’t found the mental acuity to say more than two words to her.
And now I watched her from the shadows like a goddamned stalker.
A fresh wave of self-loathing washed through me. But even that wasn’t enough to pull my attention away from the woman.
She was changing.
I barely knew her, had never spoken to her before my brothers and I turned her, but the shift in her was obvious anyway. I recognized it from the other new vampires I’d seen over the years. The transformation from human to vampire was like being put under a magnifying glass—it heightened and sharpened the traits that were already there. Leches became more lustful, risk-takers became daredevils, and the wise became sage-like.
Willow Tate was a woman who craved freedom, and as I watched from my hidden vantage point, she began to take it. There was a wildness and inhibition in her now that called to me, begging me to let go and join her.
I’d always lived with restraint. As a young man trying to make my fortune in the American colonies, I’d had to. I’d had grand plans for my life, before all those hopes had been ripped away from me.
The careful control I held over myself became even more pronounced after I moved on from the hedonism of my first months as a vampire. And it’d only grown stronger over the years.
Recklessness is a luxury of the stupid.
But now, for the first time in many, many years, I was acting both stupid and reckless.
I cursed myself for my weakness as I tore my gaze away from the soft curves of Willow’s body. I’d grown hard just watching her. It wasn’t like me to be this bewitched by a woman. My plan to send her away and erase her from my mind had proved a
catastrophic failure. The harder I tried to forget her, the more deeply every aspect of this woman embedded itself in my memory.
Sol and Jerrett didn’t know I was here, and I planned to keep it that way. Jerrett would call me a hypocrite if he found out, and I’d have no rebuttal for him. I was a hypocrite. And an idiot.
We still hunted the shades that roamed the city, and I was convinced by now that Jerrett was correct—there was more than one of those creatures stalking the streets.
But every moment of the past week not dedicated to the hunt had been spent following Willow.
It had started when I tailed the car I sent her home in the night we’d said goodbye. Despite my brothers’ accusations of callousness, I’d been wracked with guilt for sending her away like that. Her glittering hazel eyes had been full of turmoil as I’d put her in the car. I had told myself my only intention was to make sure she got home all right, to ensure she didn’t lose control and attack the driver.
But somehow, against all my will and better judgment, I had kept watching her. Every evening for the past week, she’d taken down the blanket covering her window and gazed out at the street below, a look of such intense longing on her face it made me ache.
My flimsy excuse of following her for her protection was running out. She’d obviously handled the transition incredibly well. Some people took much longer to adjust to the onslaught of new senses and sensations. Some lost themselves to their primal instincts for time. But Willow’s recovery was faster than any I’d seen. She looked right at home in her newly vampiric skin.
Skin that was currently being salivated on by a Wall Street jackass with a bad spray tan and too much gel in his hair.
My lips curled back, my fangs dropping as unreasonable rage consumed me.
Mine.
The thought had barely registered before I was slipping out of the shadows, maneuvering quickly through the throng of bodies like a ghost. I circled around behind the two of them, careful to stay out of Willow’s periphery. Then I dropped a heavy hand on the man’s shoulder.
He glanced up, his half-lidded eyes foggy from drink. They widened as he took in the expression on my face. The man was smarter than he looked—he recognized a predator when he saw one. Backing away from Willow, he slithered into the crowd with his tail between his legs. She was so lost in the beat she didn’t even notice, brushing her ass against me as she danced.
My heart froze.
Against my will, as if someone else controlled the movements of my body, I put my hands on her hips, caressing her flesh gently through the silky fabric of her dress.
The rational part of my brain screamed at me to stop. This was too fucking dangerous. Worse than sneaking around behind my brothers’ backs. Worse than watching her in secret. Willow could turn around at any moment and discover who I was. She was a newly made vampire, with acute senses and enhanced speed and strength. It was only a matter of time before she recognized my scent.
But while those alarms rang in my mind, her body pressed against me, warm and sweet and impossible to deny. I wrapped my arms tighter around her and buried my face in her hair—as though indulging in my craving would somehow help me vanquish it.
Her body softened, becoming almost boneless in my arms as the smallest sound of pleasure fell from her lips.
We moved together in perfect harmony, as if the very rhythm of our souls intertwined. Her perfect ass ground against my cock, both intensifying and relieving the ache in my balls. I pressed into her harder, wrapping my arms more tightly around her.
Then she began to turn her head, and I froze.
Regret and shame barreled into me with the force of a speeding car.
What am I doing? Am I a goddamned animal? Can I not control my impulses at all?
I hadn’t acted this reckless since the days after I was turned, when rage and resentment had burned hot in my veins, eradicating all rational thought.
Her body began to follow the movement of her head, but before she could turn around and catch sight of me, I tore myself away, disappearing into the mass of writhing bodies.
I stalked outside and slid back into the shadows on the street. My fist lashed out, shattering a car window as I passed. Jerrett had been right about that, at least; it did make me feel marginally better.
Never again, Malcolm. Fuck. Never again. This ends here.
13
Willow
I stumbled backward as the man dancing behind me disappeared suddenly. Disoriented, I looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen.
What the hell? What an asshole.
I’d been having an amazing time, and I thought he had been too.
It was strange. He hadn’t been much of a dance partner at first, his movements a little clumsy and out of rhythm. It hadn’t bothered me much—I was so swept up in the music I would’ve danced with a coat rack.
But then, out of nowhere, he’d turned up the heat several dozen notches.
His hands became more confident and demanding, roaming my body with a possessiveness I was startled to find I liked. He’d touched me as if I belonged to him, and I hadn’t found myself inclined to argue one bit. My nerve endings still prickled where his warm palms had splayed across the fabric of my dress.
I stopped dancing and stared stupidly around the dance floor, an island of stillness in a sea of movement. I didn’t see the guy. Not that I knew for sure who he was, since I’d never gotten a glimpse of his face. But I didn’t see anyone who looked like I imagined he did.
My stomach sank. I shoved my way through the crowd, no longer in the mood for any of this. The high I’d ridden for the past few hours was fading, and I was about to make an unpleasant crash landing back on earth.
Get a grip, Willow. You’re losing it.
I shook my head, irritation at myself souring my stomach. Even though I knew it was just some random frat guy out with his buddies, I had found myself imagining it was one of the brothers dancing with me. Especially when his dancing improved, and he began to handle my body with such ease and power. I’d gotten lost in images of rich brown eyes, bright blue eyes, and entrancing green eyes—imagined the way each of them smelled, the strength and grace of their large bodies. I’d even thought I caught the scent of leather for a brief moment.
Ugh. This does not count as getting a grip, you dummy.
Frustrated tears burned my eyes as I tried to escape the suddenly claustrophobic confines of the bar. The scents, the sounds, the press of bodies… It was all suddenly too much.
The vampire brothers had lied. I couldn’t go back to my old life. Even the small parts I’d hoped might be left to me were disintegrating before my eyes. The changes I’d gone through because of them had affected me on a much deeper level than simply making me allergic to sunlight.
Who am I now? I wasn’t this person a week ago.
I’d never had a one-night stand, never picked up a guy in a bar and brought him home without even learning his name. I’d only slept with two men in my life, and I’d been certain I was in love with each of them at the time.
But tonight, I’d been on the verge of spinning around, kissing the hell out of the guy dancing behind me, and begging him to take me home. Or, shit, just to the alley out back. Burning tension had built in my body, stoked even higher by his purposeful caresses, and I’d been desperate for some kind of release.
I still was.
But all these new feelings and experiences were coming at me too fast, leaving me reeling. Which woman was I? The one who’d had boring sex with the same guy for the past nine years and hadn’t even been able to face the idea of going on a date with a new man? Or the one who’d almost dragged a stranger into an alley and ripped off his clothes?
Could I be both?
The cool air hit my face as I stepped outside, sending goose bumps across my exposed skin. But it felt good. It woke me up and shocked me the rest of the way back to sober. I hesitated by the door, shifting to the side as a group of drunk bar-hoppers pushed past me.
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Damn it. I hadn’t told Grace I was leaving.
Bracing myself, I slipped back into the onslaught of scents and sounds. A few minutes of searching revealed Grace flirting shamelessly with a tableful of blond-haired Wall Street clones. One of them gave me a funny look as I approached, but I ignored him, waiting until Grace finished taking their order to tap her on the shoulder.
She turned to me, her cat-eye makeup flawless despite the late hour. Grace always looked as fresh at the end of her shift as she did at the beginning, something I’d never mastered.
“Hey!” She beamed as we walked back toward the bar together. “Sorry I lost you for a bit there. I had to go back to work, but I didn’t want to interrupt.” She winked bawdily. “You looked like you were having fun.”
“Yeah.” I smiled tiredly. “I was.”
Grace pulled me into another hug. “Let’s do it again sometime. You have to let me take you out!”
“Sure, I’d like that. See you later, Grace.”
“Bye, hot stuff! Enjoy your fine piece of man.”
She slapped me on the butt as I turned to leave, and when I looked back in shock, she raised her eyebrows and stuck her tongue out. Despite the several impending emotional freak-outs hanging over me, I grinned at her as I walked away.
Grace was a great person. I only wished it hadn’t taken me becoming a vampire to really start to bond with her. If I’d just been a little bit braver when I was a human and reached out to her then, we might have become real friends instead of just work buddies.
Do vampires even have friends?
Sol, Jerrett, and the dark-haired one didn’t look anything alike, but they called themselves brothers. I needed to do what they’d done and find my own group, my own clan. But how the hell was I supposed to do that? I didn’t know any other stupid vampires besides them.
And they’d been very specific in their instructions not to let anyone know what I was.