Blood of the Son (Book #1 in the Skye Morrison Vampire Series) (Skye Morrison Series) (10 page)

“This way, Skye.  I need you to fill out a W-4 form and some insurance paperwork.  I’ll have you put on the payroll tonight and your wages will start today,” Archer said, sitting down at his massive desk and rifling through his drawers.  I slowly made my way over and took a seat.  The pain was not near as bad as it was earlier.  It must have been the drinks I just finished that were dulling my pain.  I’d have to remember to ask Jameson what he gave me.  That stuff was gold!

“Oy!  Where’s my pay, brother?” Jameson joked as he took the seat beside me.

Archer winked at him and pulled a thick envelope out of his drawer and tossed it at him.  “This should tide you over, Youngblood.  I also put a bit extra in there so you could restock the fridge at home with that red wine you like so much.  Remember to get me a few bottles of my vintage while you’re at it,” he said with a playful smirk. 

“You work for Archer, too?” I asked, glancing over at Jameson while I took the paperwork that Archer was handing me.

“Aye, that he does, Skye,” Archer said, leaning back in his chair and interlocking his fingers behind his head. “Jameson will be working here whenever he’s not working with his band.  He’ll be taking care of our platinum level VIP guests, isn’t that right?”

“Aye, brother,” Jameson said with a laugh, shaking his head.  “It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.”

I smiled at him and finished filling out the paperwork.  When I was done I handed it back to Archer, who put it in his desk and retrieved another envelope.

“This is your own corporate credit card, Skye,” he said, handing it to me.

I reached inside and pulled out a shiny black charge card.  My eyes got big when I noticed the prestigious logo.  This was a card that few people actually had access to.  They didn’t give it to just anyone.  I looked up at Archer, wide eyed, and thoroughly impressed. 

“The card has no limit, and neither do you,” he said with a mischievous grin.  “We have a dress code here and you’ll need to shop accordingly.”

I looked down at my outfit, suddenly feeling sub-par.  “Um…what kind of dress code?” I asked.

“We are a Gothic/Industrial club, Skye, and I need you to dress that way,” he said, cocking an eyebrow and standing up.  “There is a shop a few streets over that will meet your needs.  It’s called The Underground and everything in there is acceptable attire…unless it’s on sale.” 

I nodded my head, put the card back in the envelope, and stuffed it in my back pocket for safe keeping.  “Thank you, Archer.”  I looked over at Jameson, but he only smiled.  I was guessing he had to adhere to the dress code, too, when he was working. 

I looked back at Archer as he was coming out of a skyward reaching stretch. 
Dear God, that man has a magnificent body.
 I swallowed hard and silently prayed that he would put a shirt on soon.  I didn’t know how much more I could stand. 
It’s like having a cupcake thrust in front of your face and not being allowed to have a lick of the icing.

Archer laughed, but tried to disguise it as a cough.  Jameson looked over at me and I shrugged my shoulders.

“Shall we start the tour now, Skye?” Archer asked
.

I nodded my head, and looked anywhere but directly at Archer.  Jameson stood up and grabbed my left elbow to help me stand. 

“We might as well start here,” Archer said, motioning to the door between his desk and the couch.

I looked at him, confused. “The bathroom?”

Jameson laughed and said “Right?  That’s what I thought it was at first, too.” He motioned for me to follow Archer and I did. 

Archer opened the door and walked in.  “This is my private apartment, my…home away from home, shall we say.  Most of the time I will be in my office, but if you can’t find me, I will most likely be in here.”

Jameson and I followed him in and I was amazed at what I saw.  The room was spacious, easily 1,500 square feet, and way bigger than his office.  Everything was open.  There were no walls dividing anything.  There was a large king sized bed located against the left wall and a closet unit to the right of that.  In the middle of the room, there was a claw foot pool table with standing cue racks and a small kitchenette against the back wall.  To the right were a leather chaise lounge, a large overstuffed couch, a standing lamp, and a small table covered in books.  There were black curtains up against the wall and I asked Archer if he had a window up here.  He said no, that it was a sliding glass door that lead out to a balcony which overlooked the whole club.  The enclosed bathroom was in the far right corner, off from the kitchenette.  In there was a glass shower stall, a toilet and a pedestal sink.  Everything was decorated in black and white, I noticed.

“Nice place you have here, Archer,” I said, impressed. 

“Thank you, Skye,” he said, motioning toward the door again.  “Let’s go to the second floor now.  Jameson, you lead the way.”

Jameson took my arm and helped me navigate through the rest of the tour.  I had seen most of the club already, but was shown a few places in the storage area that I hadn’t previously seen.  The place was really nice and you could tell that Archer spent a lot of money renovating the old warehouse.

At the end of the tour, Archer led Jameson and I back to the first floor bar.  “Pour us up another drink, Youngblood,” Archer said motioning for me to sit down on one of the bar stools.

I smiled at his offer.  I was thirsty and ready for another drink, and my leg was starting to ache again.  I figured one more drink would be okay, since I wasn’t feeling any effects from the first two. 

“So, what do you think of the club, Skye?” he asked while Jameson went behind the bar and made us our drinks.

“I love the place, Archer.  It’s my kind of club. And, I like the idea of having dancers in the metal cages,” I said with a smile.

“Me too,” Archer said, playfully wagging his eyebrows.

We laughed and Jameson rolled his eyes.  “Two glasses of Irish whiskey for the boys and a Vampire’s Kiss for the lady,” he said setting the glasses in front of us.

“So that’s what you call that drink you made me earlier.  It’s awesome, Jameson.  What’s it made with?” I asked, taking a sip of the dark liquid. 

“It’s my secret recipe, love.  Let me take you out on a date sometime and I’ll let you in on It,” he said, with a wink.

I felt my face flush hot.  “Jameson…” I said, looking at Archer, wondering what he was going to say. 

Just then, Gunnar entered the room and approached us. “You have an urgent telephone call, Mr. Rhys.”

Archer sighed and turned to Gunnar. “Thank you, Gunnar.  I’ll take it in my office.”  Gunnar left and Archer turned back to Jameson and me.  “Duty calls.  I trust you’ll get her home safely, Youngblood,” he said and finished the last of his whiskey.

“Aye, brother.  I’ll take her now,” Jameson said.  Archer stood and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.  “Until tomorrow, Skye,” he said and left to go upstairs. 

I touched my hand to my cheek and it felt hot from the blush that was spreading. 
Archer Rhys just kissed my cheek.
  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, especially in front of Jameson.  After all, we did have a heavy make-out session on the hood of his car earlier this evening.  I downed the last of my drink as Jameson came around the bar and took my hand.

“Ready to go home, love?” he asked softly, leaning in and placing my arm around his waist.

“Yes,” I said, wrapping my other arm around his waist and pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you for taking such good care of me tonight.”   

“I’d do anything for you, Skye.” Jameson said.

That affirmation gave me goose bumps and I smiled to hide my amazement.  I had had a crush on Jameson Doyle, lead singer of the Manky Langer, since he first performed at Drop Kick Dan’s.  Now, here he was, standing in front of me with his arms around me. 
How did I get this lucky?
I pulled him in for a quick kiss on the cheek, then hopped down off the barstool. 

“Not so fast, love,” Jameson said as he bent down and threw me over his shoulder.  I squealed in surprise and laughed.  My head was hanging down by his lower back and my hair was trailing to his calves.  He carried me that way, out to the car, with me laughing the whole time.  He relocked the back door and opened his car door.  He gently set me down in the seat and gave me a breathtaking kiss.

“I love the way you laugh,” he said before he shut my door and climbed in his.  He started the car and put the top up on his BMW.

We drove the ten minutes to my house, holding hands and singing along to The Stooges.  It was close to eleven when we pulled into my driveway. Jameson walked around to the trunk and retrieved my messenger bag.  He was helping me out of the car when I suddenly remembered.

“Shit, my car,” I said, running my fingers through my hair.  “How am I going to get back to The Mausoleum tomorrow?”

“I’ll come get you, love, no worries.  What time do you have to be there?” he asked, putting his arm around my waist and leading me to my front door.

“Seven o’clock,” I said, taking my bag from him and digging out my keys.

“I’ll be here at 6:30 to pick you up,” he said, smiling reassuringly.

“Thanks so much for everything, Jameson. I don’t know what I would have done without you today.”

“I’m just glad I was there to help you, Skye,” he said, stroking my left cheek with the back of his fingers and gazing into my eyes.  “And, I meant what I said earlier.  I would like to take you out on a date sometime.  I want to see more of you.  I’ve kind of wanted to ask you out since the first time I saw you at Dan’s.”

I swallowed my sudden nervousness. “Really?” I asked, looking at my hands. “Was that when I brought you the Car Bomb last week?”

He placed his finger under my chin and gently lifted it to meet my eyes.  “No, love,” he said, shaking his head.  “The first time I saw you was when we came into Dan’s a month ago to play our first show.  You were wearing that purple corset and you had your hair up in a ponytail.  I thought you had the most beautiful neck I had ever seen.”

“Wow,” I said, amazed and blushing.  “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Aye, love,” he smiled.  “I remember every time I saw you dancing to our songs and waiting your tables.  I wanted to go up to you so many times and introduce myself, but you were always busy when I finished my set.  I’m glad we finally got a chance to talk.”

“Me too, Jameson,” I said sincerely.  “I’ve kind of had my eye on you as well.  I love to hear you sing and when Dan asked me to bring you your drink last week, I almost died. You’re pretty hot, you know that?” I teased, reaching up to twirl a strand of his hair around my index finger.

“Not half as hot as you, love,” he said, pulling me into a hug and kissing the top of my head.  “So what do you say?  Can I take you out on a proper date, Miss Morrison?”

“I’d like that, Mr. Doyle,” I said, craning my neck up to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“How about this Saturday?”

“Saturday is perfect.”  Styvi Nix must have heard us talking because she started barking up a storm and scratching on the door.  “I’ve got to go,” I said reluctantly.  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Until then, love,” Jameson said as he gave me a quick kiss goodbye. 

I turned and unlocked my door, waving to Jameson as he got into his car.  Styvi Nix jumped up and down, excited to see me.  I set my bag down on the stairs and hurried over to my hand chair and took a seat, pulling Styvi into my lap. 

“How’s my little super star?” I cooed, kissing her face and letting her lick mine.  “I really missed you today.”  I spent a few more minutes thoroughly loving on her and then walked into the kitchen and gave her a treat. 

I fixed myself a Cup-O-Noodles and watched as Styvi Nix happily tossed her tug rope around the living room.  I was too sore to play with her outside tonight, so I threw the rope for her a few times around the house.  I left her to play downstairs as I slowly walked up to my room.  My ankle and knee should have hurt a lot worse than they did, but I figured it was the alcohol I had earlier that was numbing the pain. 

I took off my clothes and threw them in my bathroom hamper while I filled my tub up with hot water.  I figured a hot bath would be good for my knee.  I went to the mirror and looked at my forehead. 
Ugh!  That’s an ugly bruise. 
The top of my eye socket was pretty swollen and it was a lovely shade of black and blue.  I sighed, turned on my bedroom stereo, and mellowed out to some Bob Marley while I soaked. 

The hot water was so relaxing and it was making me sleepy.  I finally talked myself into quickly shampooing my hair and bathing so I could hit the sack.  As I was drying off I heard my cell phone ringing downstairs.  I quickly dressed in a baby doll nightie, wrapped my long, wet hair up in a towel, and made my way downstairs to my bag. 
Hm…3 missed calls
.  I saw that all three were from Drop Kick Dan’s.  I hit redial and went back to my room, calling for Styvi Nix to come to bed.

“Drop Kick Dan’s, what do you want?” a grumpy female voice asked.

“Um…Nikki, is that you?” I asked, unsure.

“Yeah, who’s asking?” she yelled over the music.

“It’s Skye.  Man, y’all sound busy.  Someone called me from there a few minutes ago.  Was it you?” I asked, taking the towel out of my hair and brushing it.