Blood of the Son (Book #1 in the Skye Morrison Vampire Series) (Skye Morrison Series) (12 page)

Jameson was busy looking me over, neck to toe and back.  His eyes were wide and his mouth was open in surprise.  “
Riamh i mo shaol ……”
he whispered to himself. 

“What?” I asked, smiling up at him, amused, but confused at what he just said. 
What kind of language is that, anyway?
 I’d never heard it before.

Jameson shook his head and seemed to be breaking out of his amusing daze. “Uh…sorry.  Hello,” he finally said, looking me in the eyes.  I tried to stifle a giggle, but I couldn’t help it.  Finally, it was my turn to make HIM feel speechless. 

I walked the few steps to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, looking up into his eyes.  “It’s that good, huh?” I asked, smiling, raising one eyebrow and biting the corner of my bottom lip. 

“Oh,” he said, taking my hands, stepping back a couple of feet, and looking me up and down again. “You have…no…idea.  You’ve just made me…very…ravenous.  And I just ate…” he said, swallowing thickly and shaking his head in disbelief.  “How very naughty of you, Skye,” he said with a seductive, predatory grin.

I felt my face flush hot at his gaze.  He made me feel like I was a succulent piece of meat that he couldn’t wait to devour.  I tried to calm my hormones as best I could, but, whenever I was around him, or his brother for that matter, I found it very difficult. 

“Well, I’m glad you like it.  I was bored so I went shopping today,” I said, playing with my fingers.  “Hey,” I suddenly remembered. “You won’t believe this.  My bruises are gone and my ankle and knee are perfect.  The cut on my head is even healed,” I said, replaying my surprising morning.  Jameson rubbed the back of his neck quietly as he listened to me tell my story.

“That’s really great, love.  I’m glad you’ve healed.  Those were some pretty bad injuries you had,” he said.

“Yeah, definitely…but, what do you think caused me to heal so rapidly?  It’s really weird, don’t you think?  Maybe it was divine intervention?”

“I…” he started to say, but his phone interrupted him.  “Just a second, love,” he said, holding a finger up and digging his cell phone out of his pants pockets. 

“Oy, brother,” he said, answering his phone.  “I’m here now and we’re about to head your way.”

I walked into my house and made a quick motion for him to follow.  I ran upstairs to grab my jacket and phone and then came bounding back down.  I reached the landing and Jameson was just standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. “Jameson, you didn’t want to step inside?” I asked, watching him.

He looked uncomfortable for a few seconds but then smiled an apologetic smile and said, “No time love.  Archer wants me back at the club as soon as possible.  Do you have everything you need?”

I looked around and did a mental checklist. 
Jacket, check. Cell phone, check.  Keys, check.
  “Yep, I have everything” I smiled as I grabbed my messenger bag off the floor and my keys off the entryway table. 

I walked out, shut the door behind me, and sauntered off toward his awaiting BMW.  He quickly followed and opened my door for me.  “Who ever said chivalry was dead?” I teased as I carefully sat down and folded my legs in behind me. 
I could get used to this
, I thought.  I loved a thoughtful man. Jameson quickly got in and headed toward downtown.

It was too quiet in the car, so I fiddled with the stations until I found a good song.  Jameson seemed tense and when I looked over at him, he was gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Hon,” I said, concerned.  “Are you okay?  You aren’t talking much…is something wrong?”

“I’m fine, Skye,” he said tightly, never taking his eyes off the road.  His hands gripped the steering wheel harder and his nostrils flared.  He silently took out his sunglasses, roughly put them on, and quickly resumed white-knuckling the steering wheel.  His body language was closed off, and I took that as my cue not to ask any more questions. 

I silently worried over what was bothering him and what I had done to make him so angry.  The tension in the car was unbearably thick.  I started to feel uncomfortable, so I stared out my passenger window. The rest of the ride was one of silence. 

When we finally got to the club, I didn’t wait for him to open my door for me.  I bolted out and hurriedly walked into the club’s back door.  I stalked down the dark hallway, through the floor door and straight into the ladies restroom.  I felt like my eyes were tearing up and I didn’t want anyone to see me.  I grabbed a few tissues off the toiletry bar and sat down on the velvet lounge chair in the restroom’s front sitting room.  I carefully dabbed underneath my eyes and leaned back into the chair. 

What is Jameson’s problem?
  I felt like a leper.  One minute he’s giving me ‘yes’ eyes, the next he’s all tense and closed off. 
I must have done something.
  I tried thinking back and couldn’t come up with anything.  The more I thought about it, the more confused I got.  The more confused I got, the angrier I got.  I finally decided to say fuck it. 
Let him worry about him and I’m going to just worry about me tonight.
  This was my first full day on the job here at The Mausoleum, and I wasn’t going to let anyone muck this up for me. 

“Eighty five thousand dollars, baby,” I said, looking into the mirror with fierce determination.  I stood up, fixed my bra, checked my makeup, and gathered my jacket and bag up off the lounger.  I look a deep breath, affixed a smile to my face, and walked out onto the club floor.

I turned the corner and saw Archer and Jameson leaning at the bar, engrossed in their conversation.  I walked heavily on my stilettos to let them know I was coming.  Jameson turned to the side and quickly resumed making drinks. Archer slowly stood up and turned to greet me.  He was wearing a black designer t-shirt, low rise denim jeans, and black Prada loafers.

He slowly appraised my attire with his eyes and had a satisfied smile on his face.  He turned to Jameson and said something to him that I couldn’t hear.  Whatever it was seemed to piss Jameson off, because he was clenching and unclenching his jaw quickly as his nose flared. Archer turned to face me once again and walked toward me.

“You, my dear, are dangerous,” he said with a wicked laugh, holding his arms out wide to greet me.  I walked up to him and allowed him to hug me.  He bent down, nuzzled my hair and sighed, “You do smell tempting.” 

I pulled away and looked up at him.  I was a little confused by his behavior.  He laughed and I heard a door roughly shut.  I looked around Archer, towards the bar, and Jameson was nowhere to be found. 
Eighty-five thousand dollars
, I silently repeated to myself. 
This is the opportunity I have been daydreaming about.
 
I’m not going to mess this up for anything.

“Good to know,” Archer said, chuckling.

“Pardon me?” I asked, confused. 
Is he talking to me or himself?

“Let’s get you a drink while we go over tonight’s agenda, sound good to you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

I walked with him to the bar and sat down on one of the stools.  He went behind it and started trying to figure out what Jameson had been making.

“Well,…I think this one might be yours,” he said, setting a glass down in front of me and smiling.  “It’s a Vampire’s Kiss.  Well, no, not yet,” he said, leaning in towards me.  I was just about to lean away when he brought his hand up from behind the bar.  It was clutching the neck of a bottle that was filled with black liquid.  “Now, then…” he said, pouring about two shots into my glass and winking.  “That’s a Vampire’s kiss.” 

I smiled and thanked him. 
Is he drunk? 
He was acting so weird tonight and I didn’t understand what was going on between him and Jameson. 
Where is Jameson, anyway? 
I downed my drink quickly, hoping to catch a small buzz to help with my sour mood.  He brought out two lowball glasses and a bottle of Johnny Walker Black. 

“Pour us up some glasses while I fill you in,” he said, coming around the bar and sitting down beside me on a barstool. 

I poured us each a healthy glass and silently saluted him before I brought it to my lips and took a long sip.

Archer took a big gulp of his and said, “We have some actual work to do tonight.  I have a stack of applications that I need you to go through.  You will need to pick out ten male dancers and ten female dancers to be interviewed.  Only select the ones available for immediate hire.  Also, I need five general employees, same deal.  Do you think you can handle that for me?” he asked. 

“Absolutely.  I’ll have them ready in no time,” I said, confident. 

“Good,” he said with a sly grin.  He took another drink and continued.  “The sound system and stage lights need to be tested tonight, so we’ll have the house lights down and music up.  You may use my office, if you’d like, to go through the applications if the music starts to bother you.”

“Thank you, Archer, but I think I’ll be able to manage down here,” I said taking a sip of my scotch. 

He looked at me intently for a couple of seconds.  “Are you wondering where Jameson is?”

I put my chin up, shook my head, and tried to mean it when I said, “Nope.  I sure you’ve got him working in the back or something.”

His gaze was unwavering.  He sat quietly for a few moments and then said, “I sent him on an errand this evening.  He will be back in time to drive you to pick up your car tonight.”

“Okay,” I said, starting to fidget.  I was feeling pretty cold, so I grabbed my leather jacket from the back of the stool and put it on. 

“It should be a crime to cover those shoulders,” he said, with what sounded like raw honesty.

I turned and looked at him, surprised and curious. 
Is he flirting with me?  No…  That’s impossible.

Archer was a rich, successful, gorgeous business owner and I was just a waitress with a useless-for-now degree.  Besides, I wasn’t anything special.  I was just a girl who worked hard, loved her dog, and her friends. 

It must be this stupid dress
, I thought. 
Or these slutty boots
.  I felt self-conscious all of the sudden.  This outfit wasn’t really me.  I know I had to wear this “uniform” to work, but I could have added more clothes to it. 
I have to get out of here for a second
.  I looked over at Archer and he was staring at his drink, with his head cocked slightly to the right side.  He almost looked like he was trying very hard to hear something. 

I stood up and asked nervously, “Where are the applications?  I’ll go ahead and jump right on those.”

Archer looked at me and smiled a small, almost sad smile.  “They are on top of my desk in a folder marked with your name,” he said and picked up the bottle to refill our drinks.

“I’ll be right back,” I said excusing myself and walking quickly across the floor, clutching my short leather jacket. 
Why-o-why did I have to wear such a short jacket tonight? 
I wished I had something to help cover me up more.  I sighed as I climbed the stairs.  Jameson’s sudden mood change and my insecurities had really put a damper on the night. 

“Snap out of it girl,” I said, under my breath as I reached the second floor and approached Archer’s private spiral stairwell.  I quickly bounded up the stairs and into his office.  I saw the folder, grabbed it and slowly made my way back down.  I ran into Gunnar on the second floor.  He took the stairs first and walked over to the DJ booth.  I saw him setting up a laptop as I reached the empty bar.  I looked around and didn’t see Archer anywhere.  I shrugged my shoulders, took another shot of scotch, and started reading the applications and attached résumés. 

About an hour had passed and I was almost done.  I don’t know where Archer found these people, but most everyone who applied was more than qualified.  I tried to zero in on personality as the distinguishing factor. 

Suddenly the house lights went down and the stage lights started their synchronized dance.  The dance floor lights lit up and alternated.  I smiled. 
Man, this place is awesome.
  I knew my fellow Austinites would fall in love with it.  Just then the music started pumping a dark, ominous beat. I swayed along in my seat as I worked on selecting the last few interviewees. 

I finally finished and poured myself another shot of scotch.  I was starting to feel a buzz and was kind of glad for it; it helped me relax.  I don’t drink enough to get a buzz often, but when I do it’s for good reason.  I bound up the application rejects, put them at the bottom of the folder, and danced my way to Archer’s office to put the folder back.  When I got up to the second floor, I heard someone shout out to me. 

“Oy!  You’re done?”  I turned and saw Archer lounging in one of the PVIP private lounges. 

I walked over to him and smiled brightly, holding up the folder.  “You now have twenty-five qualified candidates, ready and waiting for your call.”

“Excellent, Skye,” he said with a grin and motioned for me to have a seat on the lounger next to him. 

I sat down on the edge and crossed my legs.  He held out a glass of champagne and I took it and laughed.  “If I didn’t know any better, Mr. Rhys, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk.”

He threw his gorgeous head back and laughed.  Whenever he genuinely smiled like that, it took my breath away. 
How can a person be this gorgeous?  Thank God he has his shirt on tonight.  Not that I’d mind seeing him naked or anything, but it’s so damn distracting.
  I shook my head and quickly focused on something else.   I took a long drink from my glass.