the
other customers. Zane downed it and glanced around, waiting for
someone to approach. Someone always did.
He was not disappointed.
A blonde sauntered up to the bar, her
long, sleek hair swinging as she leaned over and gave him a smile.
The calculated move exposed her neck and the multiple bites already
lacing her throat. "Hi Zane," she purred. She slid up on the
barstool next to him and crossed her tanned legs under the hot pink
leather miniskirt. A tight white tank-top that outlined her alert
nipples completed the outfit. "Long time no see, baby."
He'd bitten this one before. He didn't
remember her name, though, and her pretty face was a blur in his
memory. She didn't matter. None of them did. And when she leaned
over and placed her hand on his thigh, he gripped her by the hair
and sank his teeth into her tilting neck. Hot, salty blood filled
his mouth and he drank, the curse ebbing for the evening as he did
so. Underneath his grasp, she tensed, a moan of delight escaping
her throat. She quivered under him, her body wracked by an instant
orgasm.
It turned his stomach. As soon as the
bloodlust had ebbed, he shoved her away.
She wasn’t the kind to take no for an
answer, though. Her eyes glazed with lust, her body still trembling
from the orgasm he’d just given her, she reached for him, the
flirty smile glued to her lips. “Kiss me? Make me feel it
again?”
A half smile of self loathing curved
his mouth, and Zane leaned in.
She eagerly followed close, licking her
lips.
His mouth brushed her ear, a gentle
motion that belied his harsh, unforgiving words. “I want nothing to
do with you. Step away if you value your life.”
Startled, she jerked away and blinked
at him, but he got up and left before she could protest. He didn’t
want her – he didn’t want any of the women in the room. His
thoughts were entirely of a redhead with a wry smile that liked
jeans and t-shirts.
Drinking from another woman didn’t ease
the ache he had for Jackie. Not in the slightest. It was a means to
exist - no more, no less. He’d endure it until they found a way to
be together. Until then…he was stuck here. His bleak gaze scanned
the club, the figures of the vampires lounging as human women threw
themselves upon any guy with red eyes and a jacket. Another woman
saw the blonde’s failure to capture his interest and she stepped
forward. He turned his angry gaze on her and she froze in place,
lost in the power of vampire charm. She remained there, frozen,
until one of her friends pulled her away, breaking the
spell.
A vampire in the back raised a finger
in a gesture, calling Zane’s attention there. Caleb sat with
Barnabas at a booth at the edge of the dance floor, away from the
crowd of women near the bar.
If vampires had friends, they might
have been his once. In better times, he’d ran with Caleb and
Barnabas, and together they’d wreaked havoc and laughed while doing
so. But he’d been distracted lately, and a vampire’s friends were
fickle, their allegiance shallow. No one owed anything to
anyone…except the queen. And she preferred it that way.
Still, a night of nothing but endless,
torturous hours awaited him before he could collapse into daysleep,
passing another evening without her. Hanging around the club wasn’t
for him tonight. Maybe Caleb and Barnabas had a better idea. So he
approached the booth and slid in, nodding to his brothers in
greeting.
Caleb grinned wickedly – even after
four thousand years of being fallen, he hadn’t lost his taste for
mayhem. Once he’d had a youthful face with boyish features and a
cap of short blonde hair. But his face had been twisted by years of
disappointment and mischief, and the tattoo etched around his eye
just made him look slightly evil. No one would mistake him for
angelic now. Barnabas was his opposite – plain and unassuming, with
a messy fall of brown hair that was a bit too straight and a bit
too long. His features were sharper, and he looked older, his
other customers. Zane downed it and glanced around, waiting for
someone to approach. Someone always did.
He was not disappointed.
A blonde sauntered up to the bar, her
long, sleek hair swinging as she leaned over and gave him a smile.
The calculated move exposed her neck and the multiple bites already
lacing her throat. "Hi Zane," she purred. She slid up on the
barstool next to him and crossed her tanned legs under the hot pink
leather miniskirt. A tight white tank-top that outlined her alert
nipples completed the outfit. "Long time no see, baby."
He'd bitten this one before. He didn't
remember her name, though, and her pretty face was a blur in his
memory. She didn't matter. None of them did. And when she leaned
over and placed her hand on his thigh, he gripped her by the hair
and sank his teeth into her tilting neck. Hot, salty blood filled
his mouth and he drank, the curse ebbing for the evening as he did
so. Underneath his grasp, she tensed, a moan of delight escaping
her throat. She quivered under him, her body wracked by an instant
orgasm.
It turned his stomach. As soon as the
bloodlust had ebbed, he shoved her away.
She wasn’t the kind to take no for an
answer, though. Her eyes glazed with lust, her body still trembling
from the orgasm he’d just given her, she reached for him, the
flirty smile glued to her lips. “Kiss me? Make me feel it
again?”
A half smile of self loathing curved
his mouth, and Zane leaned in.
She eagerly followed close, licking her
lips.
His mouth brushed her ear, a gentle
motion that belied his harsh, unforgiving words. “I want nothing to
do with you. Step away if you value your life.”
Startled, she jerked away and blinked
at him, but he got up and left before she could protest. He didn’t
want her – he didn’t want any of the women in the room. His
thoughts were entirely of a redhead with a wry smile that liked
jeans and t-shirts.
Drinking from another woman didn’t ease
the ache he had for Jackie. Not in the slightest. It was a means to
exist - no more, no less. He’d endure it until they found a way to
be together. Until then…he was stuck here. His bleak gaze scanned
the club, the figures of the vampires lounging as human women threw
themselves upon any guy with red eyes and a jacket. Another woman
saw the blonde’s failure to capture his interest and she stepped
forward. He turned his angry gaze on her and she froze in place,
lost in the power of vampire charm. She remained there, frozen,
until one of her friends pulled her away, breaking the
spell.
A vampire in the back raised a finger
in a gesture, calling Zane’s attention there. Caleb sat with
Barnabas at a booth at the edge of the dance floor, away from the
crowd of women near the bar.
If vampires had friends, they might
have been his once. In better times, he’d ran with Caleb and
Barnabas, and together they’d wreaked havoc and laughed while doing
so. But he’d been distracted lately, and a vampire’s friends were
fickle, their allegiance shallow. No one owed anything to
anyone…except the queen. And she preferred it that way.
Still, a night of nothing but endless,
torturous hours awaited him before he could collapse into daysleep,
passing another evening without her. Hanging around the club wasn’t
for him tonight. Maybe Caleb and Barnabas had a better idea. So he
approached the booth and slid in, nodding to his brothers in
greeting.
Caleb grinned wickedly – even after
four thousand years of being fallen, he hadn’t lost his taste for
mayhem. Once he’d had a youthful face with boyish features and a
cap of short blonde hair. But his face had been twisted by years of
disappointment and mischief, and the tattoo etched around his eye
just made him look slightly evil. No one would mistake him for
angelic now. Barnabas was his opposite – plain and unassuming, with
a messy fall of brown hair that was a bit too straight and a bit
too long. His features were sharper, and he looked older, his
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