All Fired Up (24 page)

Chapter Seventeen

European house music blared from the club the Germans had rented out for their campaign party. Calleigh stayed close behind Alrik as he cleared a way through the horde clustered outside the velvet stanchions.

She watched the women in the crowd. They stared at Alrik, nodding and smiling, heads swiveling to get a better look at her Viking. They whispered to their friends, giggling like teenagers and pointing. Calleigh wanted to smack them.

She squeezed his hand a little tighter. He looked back and gave her a smile, freeing his hand from hers to pull her closer and put her in front of him. He rested his hands possessively on her hips and nuzzled a kiss against her neck.

Goose bumps danced over her skin and she grinned.
Take that, underwear groupies!

The massive espresso-skinned bald man guarding the door nodded with recognition when he saw Alrik and held open the ropes for them. He stuck out his hand and a thick diamond bracelet slid out from beneath the cuff of his black leather jacket.

“Hey man, nice pics. You’re gonna have chicks after you like fat kids after cake.”

Alrik smiled and shook the doorman’s hand but Calleigh knew he probably didn’t have a clue what the guy was talking about.

Strobe lights and swirling lasers pierced the dark with bursts of brilliant color, pulsing in time with the heavy thumping beat that vibrated right through her chest.

Alrik looked around, obviously fascinated by the colors, sounds and people. To his credit, he didn’t linger on the scantily dressed cocktail waitresses any longer than the purple-mohawked bartender or the enormous aquarium full of small sharks that made up the back wall behind the bar.

Several long seconds of staring and Calleigh realized she was eye level with a cotton-ribbed covered crotch. Alrik’s crotch to be exact. Huge blow-ups of his ad hung on every wall. Apparently the Germans didn’t believe in subtlety.

This was further re-enforced by the large white cubes placed strategically throughout the club. Atop the cubes, which were actually lit platforms, stood what could only be described as a male go-go dancers, wearing nothing but Uber Homme briefs and a pout. Thank God the Germans hadn’t wanted Alrik to do that.

The place teemed with hot bodies. Probably every model in Manhattan was here. Tall, leggy blondes and heart-stoppingly beautiful men stood around in clusters, chatting and posing with their drinks. She hadn’t seen so much black clothing since her mother’s funeral. She smoothed the skirt of her emerald green wrap dress and felt hopelessly out of place.

Seamus waved to her as he made his way through the crowd. He had probably been watching for them, nervous as a nun on a nude beach that they wouldn’t show. He kissed Calleigh’s cheek.

“So glad you made it, lass. I see you’ve made friends again with our lad. Lovely.” He winked, raising his brows at Alrik and Calleigh’s clasped hands.

“Yes, we’re friends again.” She kissed him back. “So glad you approve.”

He clapped Alrik on the back. “Enjoy yourself for a bit but don’t go too far. The boys aren’t here yet—” he rolled his eyes, “—they like to be fashionably late. Once they arrive, be prepared. That’s when this stops being a party and starts being work. Lots of press to talk to, pictures to pose for, hands to shake, babies to kiss, that sort of thing. Have some fun, I’ll be back for you in a bit.”

Once Seamus had disappeared back into the crowd, Alrik bent his head to Calleigh’s ear. “I do not mind kissing them but who would bring babies to a place like this?”

She laughed. “It’s just an expression.”

They headed toward the bar and a large figure stepped in front of them. The man was a head taller than Alrik, just as broad and almost as handsome. He had chiseled features and dark wavy hair. If it weren’t for his beautiful suit and sparkling gold watch, Calleigh would have figured him for a bouncer. Maybe he was a model, too.

“You Vikings always have such a hard time keeping your clothes on?”

Alrik smirked. “No toga, Vincentius? Or have you decided the attire of the masses suits you better?”

The man shook his head and smiled at Calleigh. “My apologies for my friend. He has no manners. I am Vincentius, one of Alrik’s…brothers.”

She looked at Alrik. “Your brother?”

“Not by blood. Vincentius is a Phoenix.” He glanced around the club. “There are quite a few here tonight.”

“Really?” She strained to look, even though she didn’t know what she was looking for. “Who? Which ones? Why are they here? Do they usually hang out in clubs?”

Vincentius laughed. “I see you have your hands full, my friend.”

“I’m just very curious is all.” She studied the new Phoenix. Freya had great taste in men.

Vincentius smiled. “Curiosity is not such a bad thing.”

Calleigh frowned and addressed both men. “If you can show up here, why not just poof back to your own time and fix what’s wrong? Wouldn’t that be the easy way?”

Vincentius answered. “A Phoenix may only walk the mortal world where another Phoenix has been called. And we rarely have reason. But with an occasion such as this…”

He glanced at one of the looming ads, eyebrows raised. “We could not let our brother celebrate his
achievement
alone, could we?”

“So are you a Viking too?”

“Hah! Not hardly.” He leaned closer, his eyes twinkling, his voice thick with pride. “I am a Roman Centurion, a swordsman with no equal, feared among men and greatly desired among women.”

Alrik pulled Calleigh next him and kept his arm around her waist.

She looked over at her Viking, noting his clenched jaw and glinting eyes. Was he jealous? Did he think Vincentius was coming on to her? Warmth spread through the lower half of her body. She turned back to Vincentius. “So you don’t have any real skills then?”

The Centurion turned purple. He opened his mouth to reply then snapped it shut and stalked off, shaking his head. Alrik threw his head back and laughed. He wiped a tear from his eye and kissed her hard on the mouth. “I think I love you.”

“What?” Calleigh’s mouth hung open but she didn’t care. Her head spun and the warmth in her belly blossomed into genuine heat. “You think you love me?”

He wrapped his arms around her and bent his head so their foreheads touched. The noise and lights and chaos around them disappeared. “I do not
think
I love you.”

Her heart sank.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I know I do. I did not mean to tell you here, though. It just slipped out.”

If not for his arms holding her up, she would have melted to the floor.

“You love me?” Her voice came out weak and wavery but it was the best she could do. He loved her. This incredible man loved her. Down deep beneath the Brad-barrier covering her heart she suspected she might love him too. She just wasn’t sure enough to say it back.

“I don’t know if I love you yet. It’s too soon for me. I’m sorry.” She wanted to say it, she really did. Just not yet.

He shrugged gently. “Do not be sorry. It is better if you do not love me. Then you will not miss me when I am gone.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Or think about it. She was plenty aware that her last change hung over her like one of Alrik’s massive ads, impossible to ignore. But this was the story of her life, she should expect it by now. Love always left.

“Nor do I.” He released her from his arms but kept one hand on the small of her back. “Would you like to meet a few more of my brothers? I would be proud to introduce you.”

Charmed by the events of the entire night, she just nodded and let him lead her. He loved her and wanted to introduce her to his friends. He didn’t even seem to care that she hadn’t responded in kind to his admission. How much better could her night get?

She’d only met a few of the other impressively handsome Phoenixes when Seamus came to collect Alrik. Vincentius, seemingly over his indignation, had rejoined them.

“All right, lad. Let’s go schmooze. Calleigh, as soon as the press bit is over, I’ll send Leona to get you so you can join us.”

Alrik flashed a look at the Centurion she didn’t understand. “Keep an eye on her.”

“I don’t need anyone to watch me, I’m not twelve. Now go and be fabulous.” She kissed his cinnamon-scented mouth before he left, raising her uncle’s eyebrows once again.

How would she explain his disappearance to her family once he was gone? They would think she’d picked another loser and she didn’t want them to think of him that way. She wouldn’t be able to stand it if they ran him down in front of her. Maybe she could say his student visa ran out?

But Seamus already knew the truth of that. Alrik was no student. She sighed deeply. So much to think about.

“You love him.” Vincentius’s words pulled her back to the present.

“What?”

“I have seen many women watch their men going off to war. The look in their eyes is always the same. I see it in your eyes now.”

She stared at her drink. “That’s silly. Alrik isn’t going off to war.”

“But he will be leaving.” Vincentius shifted to lean against the bar. “There is no shame in loving the Viking. He is a good man. If you love him, you should tell him, before you no longer have the chance.”

She glanced at the Centurion. There was no judgment in his eyes. “I don’t know if I love him yet. I haven’t had great success with love in the past. I want to be sure this time.”

“That I understand.” A cloud of emotion crossed the Phoenix’s face, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. “Just do not wait too long. You know he cannot stay.”

She twirled the swizzle stick in her club soda. “Yeah, I know. But I don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Think about it soon. If Freya has her way, she’ll confine him to Valhalla again until his talisman is next found.”

Vincentius introduced her to a few more Phoenixes and kept her engaged with light conversation. She got the distinct feeling he was taking the “keeping watch over her” thing too seriously. She excused herself to the ladies room, but not before he made her promise to return immediately. Who did this guy think he was? She nodded but kept her fingers crossed.

Once out of sight, she slipped away, down to another section of the club called The Vault. The building the club was in had once been a bank and the vault really had been just that. Beyond the heavy steel door and large bolts, the room was surprisingly spacious. A DJ spun thickly-layered rhythms, their pulse hypnotically timed to the violet light strobing the air.

Swaying softly she danced by herself, eyes closed, letting the magnetic beats flow through her. Her body wanted to move but she didn’t want to miss Leona when the girl came to get her. She wanted to be with Alrik as much as she could. Her head bobbed in time to the music. Leona could find her on the dance floor, couldn’t she?

A warm hand on her arm drew her out of her thoughts. She turned. Even in the dim light of the vault, the blue eyes she looked into were astoundingly brilliant.

“I am Dimitri. You are Alrik’s charge, are you not?”

“Yes, I am. Are you…”

“A Phoenix? Yes.” He smiled. “I can see why the Viking is so taken with you. You are quite a fair creature.”

She felt her face flush and hoped it wasn’t noticeable under the pulsing club lights. These Phoenixes sure had unusual taste in women. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

He tossed a head full of cornsilk curls and smiled. “Would you mind if I danced with you? I love this modern music.”

“Sure, why not?” One dance and then she’d head back up to look for Leona. It wasn’t every day a hot guy was willing to dance. Would Alrik dance with her? That would be nice, pressed against him—

“What is your name, little one?”

Little one? The endearment made her grin. The lighting in the club must be worse than she thought if this guy was calling her little. “Calleigh.”

“Calleigh.” He repeated, rolling her name off his tongue so sweetly she smiled again. Maybe there was some sort of Phoenix charm school these guys went to.

They started dancing. She was impressed. For a guy she assumed was at least several hundred years old, he could move. “You’re pretty good.”

“Thank you, so are you. Very graceful.”