the leeches scattered throughout the space, I was glad to keep my flavor of species hidden.
Through the mirror’s reflection, I looked over the crowd, but I couldn’t get a good enough view of any of the bikers’ name patches. I only had about five more minutes left, before Sonny came back in to collect his prize—me. So I either had to get up and search through the sea of leather myself, or I could ask the guy sitting next to me if he knew who Solofar was.
Here goes nothing, I thought, as I turned and pointed to the bartender that was walking my way, drink in hand.
“Is that drink meant for me?”
Plain ol’ Carl turned his head and looked me over. His dark hair was cut tight to his scalp. And his eyes were deep blue, probably the darkest midnight blue the color could go.
After he got an eyeful of me, he said, “You looked thirsty.”
I leaned toward him a bit and said, “You must be some kind of mind reader, because I’m parched.”
I smiled up at the bartender, as he set the drink down in front of me. He smiled back, but before he could say anything, Carl shooed him away.
“Who’d you come here with?”
He first looked at me and then over his shoulder, at the crowd, probably scoping out the men, to see if anyone was heading over to stake a claim on me. I’d never felt more like a piece of meat in my life, but I smiled through the skinning.
I answered honestly, “Sonny. Do you know him?”
Carl slowly nodded, and a half-smile spread across his features.
“Yeah, I know him. He’s my club brother. Are you in line to be his new old lady, or something?”
That merited a raised brow. There was actually an ‘old lady’ line?
Man, there must be some well-hidden perks to being a biker’s chick, because after checking this crowd out, I don’t see any appeal in it… at all.
I took a sip from the thin red straw sticking out of my drink. My lips rounded into a slight pucker. It was gin and tonic; I hated gin but choked it down anyway.
“He’s interested, but I’m not sure if I am. I’m actually looking for a friend of mine. His name is Solofar. Would you happen to know him?”
Carl’s grip tightened around the drink in his hand, and he looked at me. But then his eyes shifted behind me and froze on something. I set down my own drink and slowly turned to see what it was.
At first, I was stunned, and then I was pissed. All of those emotions were quickly followed up by confusion. A storm cloud of grey thundered in Rush’s eyes, as he stared me down from several feet away. He had on dark street clothes, and he’d apparently borrowed a leather bomber jacket that belonged to his cousin, Archer. His dark blonde hair was freshly buzzed into a tight fade. The expression on his face was lethal.
What the hell is he doing here?
Carl stood and set a booted heel on the bar rail. He looked poised to strike.
“Who is he?” Carl practically spat out.
Gone was the enigmatic stranger who’d bought me a drink. I was dealing with vampire-Carl, territorial and deadly, when he set his sights on a target.
But aren’t I supposed to be Sonny’s blood bag for the night? Man, vampire politics is confusing.
I shook my head and said, “No one.”
He grabbed my arm and jerked me toward him.
“That glare he’s giving you doesn’t look like he’s no one to me.”
Smiling through the pain, I relaxed my body and then drew my arm out of his punishing grip.
“He’s just an old friend. Nothing so important that it should keep us from continuing our conversation.”
He harrumphed like a big bear.
“Something smells really fishy about all this. First, you claim to be Sonny’s, and now, this guy is eyeballing his claim over you? And come to think of it, you’re just full of questions about things that ain’t none of your goddamn business.”
The jig was up. And to make matters worse, my eyes flashed to Sonny, who had just pushed through the front entrance. He was smiling like the cat that ate the canary.
Through the mirror’s reflection, I looked over the crowd, but I couldn’t get a good enough view of any of the bikers’ name patches. I only had about five more minutes left, before Sonny came back in to collect his prize—me. So I either had to get up and search through the sea of leather myself, or I could ask the guy sitting next to me if he knew who Solofar was.
Here goes nothing, I thought, as I turned and pointed to the bartender that was walking my way, drink in hand.
“Is that drink meant for me?”
Plain ol’ Carl turned his head and looked me over. His dark hair was cut tight to his scalp. And his eyes were deep blue, probably the darkest midnight blue the color could go.
After he got an eyeful of me, he said, “You looked thirsty.”
I leaned toward him a bit and said, “You must be some kind of mind reader, because I’m parched.”
I smiled up at the bartender, as he set the drink down in front of me. He smiled back, but before he could say anything, Carl shooed him away.
“Who’d you come here with?”
He first looked at me and then over his shoulder, at the crowd, probably scoping out the men, to see if anyone was heading over to stake a claim on me. I’d never felt more like a piece of meat in my life, but I smiled through the skinning.
I answered honestly, “Sonny. Do you know him?”
Carl slowly nodded, and a half-smile spread across his features.
“Yeah, I know him. He’s my club brother. Are you in line to be his new old lady, or something?”
That merited a raised brow. There was actually an ‘old lady’ line?
Man, there must be some well-hidden perks to being a biker’s chick, because after checking this crowd out, I don’t see any appeal in it… at all.
I took a sip from the thin red straw sticking out of my drink. My lips rounded into a slight pucker. It was gin and tonic; I hated gin but choked it down anyway.
“He’s interested, but I’m not sure if I am. I’m actually looking for a friend of mine. His name is Solofar. Would you happen to know him?”
Carl’s grip tightened around the drink in his hand, and he looked at me. But then his eyes shifted behind me and froze on something. I set down my own drink and slowly turned to see what it was.
At first, I was stunned, and then I was pissed. All of those emotions were quickly followed up by confusion. A storm cloud of grey thundered in Rush’s eyes, as he stared me down from several feet away. He had on dark street clothes, and he’d apparently borrowed a leather bomber jacket that belonged to his cousin, Archer. His dark blonde hair was freshly buzzed into a tight fade. The expression on his face was lethal.
What the hell is he doing here?
Carl stood and set a booted heel on the bar rail. He looked poised to strike.
“Who is he?” Carl practically spat out.
Gone was the enigmatic stranger who’d bought me a drink. I was dealing with vampire-Carl, territorial and deadly, when he set his sights on a target.
But aren’t I supposed to be Sonny’s blood bag for the night? Man, vampire politics is confusing.
I shook my head and said, “No one.”
He grabbed my arm and jerked me toward him.
“That glare he’s giving you doesn’t look like he’s no one to me.”
Smiling through the pain, I relaxed my body and then drew my arm out of his punishing grip.
“He’s just an old friend. Nothing so important that it should keep us from continuing our conversation.”
He harrumphed like a big bear.
“Something smells really fishy about all this. First, you claim to be Sonny’s, and now, this guy is eyeballing his claim over you? And come to think of it, you’re just full of questions about things that ain’t none of your goddamn business.”
The jig was up. And to make matters worse, my eyes flashed to Sonny, who had just pushed through the front entrance. He was smiling like the cat that ate the canary.
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