Hunted By the Others. Jess Haines
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I’d settled the necklace around my throat, the cross prominent against my breastbone, I pushed my way past the door and dropped off my coat with the checker, a heavily tattooed boy with a blue Mohawk and more piercings than I could count.
The first bar was far too crowded, so I brushed past the first hurdle of bodies crushed against each other and worked my way toward the dance floor in the next room. The place had four floors. There were three dance floors, one with a stage, and a number of quieter rooms with plush couches and sideshows and whatnot for those who wanted a break from dancing or just wanted to get their rocks off watching the exhibitionists that came out of the woodwork for the sideshows. The rumored “private” show rooms and employee’s offices were all upstairs as far as I knew. Never been in them, never planned on being in or even near them, thank you.
I’d made nice with one of the bartenders a while back. James often helped me find my marks and made for good conversation when said marks were no-shows. Unfortunately, he was completely inundated when I made my way to the second floor, barely having enough time to return my wave of greeting. There went my bright idea of asking him where to find Royce.
Looking around with distaste, I figured I might as well work off some of my jittery energy on the dance floor for a few minutes until some space cleared up at the bar. If I didn’t calm my nerves, I’d probably end up looking and sounding like an idiot once I finally found the vamp anyway.
I headed to the one that was playing the least obnoxious remix, relieved to see that the third, smallest, dance floor was also the least crowded, as was the bar. Glory hallelujah!
After two songs without a partner to dance with, I was bored out of my skull. There were only a handful of other people dancing here, and there was plenty of room for us all to leave a good deal of personal space between one another.
Weaving past the gyrating bodies on the dance floor to get to the tiny bar, I waited just a couple of minutes to get the attention of the bartender and shout an order for a bottle of water. Much as I would’ve liked something with a little more kick to it to steady my nerves and give me a shot of much-needed liquid courage, I didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to interview a vamp while toasted.
One of the men who had been leaning indolently against the wall watching the dancers walked over to me, and I had to fight back a sigh and an eye roll. He was taller than me, though still average in height. He was dressed much like the other Goth posers on the floor, albeit without the heavy white makeup, dark eyeliner, or multiple piercings. At a guess, judging by his smooth, slightly dark-toned skin, he was in his late twenties, early thirties, tops.
I braced myself for what I was sure would be a cheesy pickup line, but the guy surprised me with a much more subtle opening.
“Alone, are we? You don’t seem like one of the usual crowd. What brings you here tonight?”
The directness of his question was what caught me. I took a quick sip of my water to hide my indecision. Well, I didn’t think it would hurt too much to tell him the truth. It’d probably work to make him move on to greener pastures.
“I was hoping to catch the club owner for a few minutes. I would’ve asked one of my friends who works here, but he was busy. Just killing some time until some of the bodies clear out.”
On closer inspection, I saw he had thick dark hair that hung down to his shoulders and partially obscured equally dark eyes, though in the dim lighting I couldn’t tell if it they were pure black or simply a dark brown. His features were strong, as were those well-defined shoulders and taut, flat stomach I could see through the netted black shirt he wore. Those leather pants seemed painted on, showing equally muscular and painfully well-defined legs. He was, dare I say, devilishly handsome?
He arched a brow at my answer, his gaze shifting from mine to the cross. It was a brief glance, not lecherous, simply speculative. I flushed a little anyway. Come on, the guy looked at my (albeit small) chest. Also, knowing I was coming to speak to a vamp with the cross on was pretty much blatantly stating that I was either a White Hat or the closest thing to it. Very cliché, and, depending on who you asked, very rude.
I didn’t mind committing the social faux pas as long as it meant Royce would keep his fangs to himself.
He surprised me further at his next words. “I can help you with that. Follow me.”
Chapter 5
Follow a stranger in a vamp-run bar? I hesitated, but only for a moment. Figuring it beat waiting around to try to spot Royce myself or for James to have a spare moment to help me, I did as he asked. As I followed him toward the back of the club, I managed to take note that he looked almost as good from the back as he did from the front. My, my. If these were the sorts of people in Royce’s entourage, maybe I needed to come by more often, if for nothing more than the eye candy. I wondered if the guy was security or vamp chow.
We weaved through the crowds, working our way to an elevator hidden around a bend I’d never cared enough to explore before. Once inside, he pulled out a key and used it to unlock the button for what I noted was a heretofore-unknown fifth floor. Even in the elevator, I could hear music pounding through, making it seem somehow uncomfortable to start talking just yet. As the elevator “pinged” almost imperceptibly, he reached forward to hold the doors and gestured for me to precede him.
I stepped into a silent, well-lit hallway with a number of thick mahogany doors leading to what were presumably management offices. It felt like stepping into a different world. The austere design would have looked more at home in a well-to-do law firm than a nightclub. There was no music once the elevator doors slid shut, only the soft burble of water flowing over rocks from a little fountain sitting on a low table.
The man slid past me and led the way to the last of the doors at the end of the hall. There was no sign to indicate whose office it was. He opened the door, flipped the light switch, and stepped inside.
It was a pristine white-carpeted, white-walled space, with two chrome-and-leather chairs facing a sleek black desk, and two black leather couches surrounding a gleaming marble table. He gestured for me to sit on one of the couches, which I did, a bit stiffly, holding on to the bottle of water since I didn’t see any coasters and wasn’t about to chance pissing off the vamp by getting spots on his nice, shiny table.
As I sat, I noticed a little wet bar in one of the corners, with two gleaming chrome barstools set before it. There were no papers on the desk, nothing but a pen, a desk calendar, and a silver paperweight shaped into a little pyramid. No computer? No phone? Odd.
The walls were hung with tasteful paintings of English riders and hunting scenes. A few potted plants, mostly ivies and ferns, added some color to the room. The view behind the desk was fantastic, overlooking the moonlit river spilling out into the ocean. Somehow the mix between sleek modern sophistication and rustic English lord came together into an unexpectedly comfortable workplace. I don’t know what I expected of an office for Royce, but I don’t think this was really it.
After I’d taken it all in, I said, “Thank you for showing me up here. I hope this isn’t much trouble for you. Will Royce be long?”
He chuckled, pulling the door shut and walking over to take a seat on the couch next to the one I’d chosen. He surprised me yet again when he leaned back and propped his combat-booted feet on the table.
“He’s here. What did you want to ask me, Ms. Waynest?”
Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Alone in his office. Alone with a vampire. Oh God, I’d checked out his butt!
Seeing my mouth drop open and my sudden speechlessness, he grinned, giving me an unnecessarily good view of sharp, pearly canines. They weren’t much longer than a normal human’s, since they weren’t extended to feed just now, but the razor tips were obvious, if only to me.
“Surprised, I see. Not to worry, I know you’re here for business rather than pleasure. I take it you weren’t expecting to see me under quite these circumstances, hmm?”
“Uh, no, not