Daylight - Book 1 (No Death for the Wicked) (11 page)

BOOK: Daylight - Book 1 (No Death for the Wicked)
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Ch
apter Ten

 

Scumbags and blood

 

 

I’m not sure if I would go as far as to say I’m lucky, but I am fortunate.
My head is still attached and I don’t have a stake through my heart. It took a little influence from Krew to get me this far. I tested the theory to see if there was any chance of a quick getaway, but he’s definitely faster than I am. So, being the loose canon that I am, I’m being watched by a few pessimistic vamps. They look just as happy as I do sitting here at the table. The prim and proper, the dressed to the nines, flock to this praiseworthy restaurant known as “Mon ami”.

Well over a hundred
humans converse back and forth with these deceitful predators. And yes, I stand in the same line-up as these vamps do, I crave. My sight follows their pulse humming through their veins.  This city is just an illusion. They are no more than cattle, waiting in ignorant bliss as the slaughter approaches. And the Elite, they do a mighty fine job of giving the humans the sense of belonging, so as to not spook their herd.  

I tip the glass to my lips and
drink in the blood soaked wine, meeting Pan’s cocky gaze across the table. She arches a brow back at me. I feel like an idiot. Fuck me once, shame on you. Fuck me twice, well, let’s just say that there is only one being that will have that pleasure again. Where the hell is
he
anyway? I get his dedication to his ‘profession’ but damn, all work and no play can make Graham a boring boy and that I can not have.

“You have not
touched your food,” Malcolm’s voice reminds me where I am. I’m sitting by a womanizer of every make and model. All eyes are on him except mine and he knows it. His hair is slicked back and it’s just as dark as Graham’s. I can feel his eyes on me. I’ve already pluck a tender nerve and he’s not use to someone not tripping over their own tongue from drooling. He is drool-worthy but not enough for me to stop daydreaming about Graham. I’m pretty sure he’s human with his ungodly tan, and the straightest, whitest teeth that could blind someone. But his eyes are what make me curious, their bright brown, but then again when the light hits them their bottle green. Just like when you hold up a glass bottle to the sky and all the resplendence shines through. I would say he has hazel eyes but that’s not entirely true, they shift from one solid color, brown to green as if he wills it. Interesting.

He scratches at his day old scruff on his face and smiles
. “I’m not really big into eating anything that’s slimy and has claws,” I explain. 

“Ah, you do not like exotic foods?” he asks, his Turkish accent adds to his
, I’m charming and sexy as hell chart.

“Do I look exotic to you?”

“There are women in the Bazaars of Istanbul that can stop the rain and win a man’s heart with the blink of an eye and yet they fail completely when I gaze upon your beauty.” His smile meets his eyes and by now any of the women in here would have their panties on fire for him.  I must admit he is a seducer. The waiter appears and Malcolm speaks to him in mind-twisting Turkish gibberish, and then he is gone quickly.

“I’ve ordered something
else. Perhaps having Mantis Prawns is not the best impression for our first encounter,” he admits. I chug down the last of my drink and return his smile.

“Hmm, can’t wait,” I comment back as I set the gold rimmed glass on the table. “So, do you come here often?”

“If you mean Solace, not as often as I would like, and if you mean here, every time I am in Solace, I do. There is no finer food on the continent.” He dazzles his flawless smile at Krew and says, “She is quite inquisitive, isn’t she?”

Krew
gives him a pleased grin and offers, “One of our newest, I thought you might enjoy her tonight.”


Well, if my pursuits are adequate then I may be here a few days. Will she be available?”

Krew
sets his fork and knife across his empty plate and bobs his head with his consent. This entire conversation sickens me to no end, discussing me like I’m not even sitting here with them. Someone give me a wooden stake and put me out of my misery. I cross my leg under the table sullenly, forced to listen to their BS is not in my job description.

The waiter replaces my
mutated Mantis grossness with a platter of seafood. I’m all for the survival of the fittest but this comes no where close to my vampirism. My glass is promptly refilled and as I reach for it I feel a hand cup my knee. Naturally, I stiffen. I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, Krew is the rock and evidently Malcolm has a hard place going on.

“Try this…” and before I can word my protest Malcolm shovels a spoonful of
something I can’t make out inside my mouth. My disapproving stomach grumbles as each taste bud goes into shock, I try to play it off. Swallowing hard, I slap on a fast fake smile.

“Hmm, tasty.”
I take a healthy swig from my glass and grab his hand, placing it back on his own leg.

This only antagonizes him, he breaks into a conceited leer and I’ll be damned if that look doesn’t make him look
even hotter. He swoops in for another dap of who knows what and gives me an expectant expression. “Now, try this…” I know better this time. He’s sadly mistaken if he’s going to tempt my mouth to open again for him.


No?” He puts on this whole façade like he’s about to pout. Inside I know this is not his style. I quirk my brow and he raises his. Just when I think we’re about to have a stare down he wipes his mouth off with the edge of the white linen napkin. Tosses it onto the table and stands, I can feel him poised behind my chair.

“I think I am finished here, please
excuse us. The night is still young and I have other business to attend to.” A few people leave the table and I’m ready to call it a night but it’s not my call to make. As Malcolm retrieves his jacket, Krew adjusts his casual position and leans his elbows over the table.

A wicked twist curves his
unscrupulous lips as he clarifies the night, “You’ve done well, Mattie.”  

“Well I try. So, I can just head back to my room now? Job done, mission accomplished right?” I uncross my legs and cram the napkin in my unoccupied glass, I have an insatiable thirst and it’s bumping up to the next notch of craving.
Nerves and being a rookie vamp I haven’t quite conquered the need to feed twenty-four seven. But I’m dealing the best I can and I think that counts for something.

Krew sends a raw vibe through me as he chuckles lowly, “My dear Mattie, your night has just begun. You belong to Malcolm until I say further.”

If he could read my mind right now I would be so dead. I ease out of my chair as Malcolm takes my hand. The very hand that had third degree burns from the delightful sunlight. His thumb rubs a clear, thin strip across the backside of my hand. I know I saw it. I know I felt it and then it dissolved into my skin. What the Hel—?

My eyes flare up to Malcolm but I take in the room too, just past his shoulder
I watch as a couple of vamps drip amber colored drops right into their eyes, vials are busy at tables like it’s an opium den. The same clear, thin strips are passed around like candy, and a new mixture of noise performs throughout the room. Vamps begin to feed on the narcotized people with little to no glamouring. Red blood-shot eyes seem to be the trend tonight. The loud laughter turns to an x-rated static and that pang of hunger swells inside me.

I gain my footing as I follow
behind Malcolm. He leads us past the blurry mob. “Wait!” I yell out just before we make it to the doors. I sway a bit and hop out of my
pain-in-the-ass
heels and slip a finger through the other prying it off. One of Krew’s ways of torturing me are these kill-me-heels, dresses so tight your boobs spill out and yes, my favorite one is controlling me like a token on a game board. Solace gets better and better, from feeding frenzy feasts to this drug induced buffet. We barge through the doors like a couple of teens running from a prom after party.

He removes his cuff links and stuffs them inside
his tailor designed pants. Reaching the elevator he asks, “Which floor to your room?” I watch as he loosens his black tie and flaunts that blinding smile.

I convey the same smile and motion at his Casanova appearance. “Does this really work for you?”
The elevator arrives and the door flows open, he waits holding his hand out for me. I sidestep him and enter the many-faceted wood walled space. This elevator doesn’t even look like an elevator. I sit on the red velveteen couch and avoid the mirror behind me. He’s not thrown off or upset by my question or my weaseling out of any further physical contact with him.

“What floor?” He
repeats with his back facing me, ready to tap the number, I still don’t tell him but I can sense that panty-dropping smile.

“You don’t give up do you?” I
flout as I throw the heels on the couch.


Not when it comes to something I want.” He reaches over and punches my floor. He must have already known. I bet Krew told him.
Fucker.

“So what does a head hunter actually do?” I ask
. He walks in front of me, discarding his jacket. It lands next to me.

“I am in the people business, you could say.”

“Really? You don’t say, now what the hell does that mean
exactly
?”

“I match up people with places.”

“Oh, kinda like a travel agent?”


No. Not quite. I bring Solace a supply of merchandise among other things.”

“Right…
Merchandise,

I snort. “Okay then what was going on in the restaurant?”

He gives a short low laugh and asks, “How
are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,
why
, are you feeling sick? We can call it a night.” He reaches down snatching my chin in the palm of his baby-soft hand. He gently motions for me to stand. I do without causing him any bodily damage. 

“H
mmm
…” He purrs like the devil himself. The look in his eyes become serious as he intently licks his lips. There is nothing more dangerous than a man with charm. I can physically feel it to my bones when he hums, again. His vocal cords vibrate just as his pulse pounds along his neck. That delicious artery sings to me, my eyes drop lower when I feel his other hand rest on my hip.

“The night is far from ov
er. I haven’t even sampled my
special
compensation yet.” His fingers wander about caressing the silk hem of my dress, ending his little adventure around my ass. Bracing his determined hand on me he presses his body closer, and our lips
are even closer
within kissing distance. I give him a palsy smirk and say, “Oh, yeah?”

“Oh,
yeah
…” he draws out his words as his hand leaves my chin and stokes my neck, “I take what I want, when I want…
and how I want
.”

My hand strikes out and claims his own neck, pushing him back along the elevator wall
, I point out, “Funny, because I take what I
need.
” I don’t care if my fangs show. I don’t care if he sees the hunger burning inside my eyes. The moisture in my mouth evaporates completely, dry as a bone, my tongue sweeps across my teeth. Waiting to feel the tip of my fangs, but I’m deeply disappointed when I can’t run my tongue over the edges. My grasp around his neck falters, my fingers fumble along the vein that strums with life and my hunger banishes like a magician in the night.

“What did you do?” I whisper as the panic
wades through my mind. I feel human, weak and vulnerable.

Both of h
is hands cradle me, hugging my body to his, he replies as his demanding lips skim my ear, “Just relax…” his teeth nibble on my earlobe. I’m not sure if I should run or beat the crap out of him. My mind and body do this awkward protest with each other. I know what I am, but I’ll be dammed if any part of me feels anything relevant to being a vampire. Fear climbs my spine, my skin crawls as his warm breath hits my neck. I jerk back and he pulls me in, my face just inches from the crook of his neck. His scent destroys my worthless attempt to break free, his fingers thread through my long, wavy hair and he leans my head down against his shoulder. He smells like seven kinds of crazy, sweet and heady. Driving me mad, mad for
him
. My earlier dread melts away and I just breathe him in.   

“You
are so beauti
ful
…” he says racing his hands down my back, but I’m not listening to his words as much as focusing on the way his touch reminds me of Graham. I swallow and the saliva fills my mouth. I lift my head up and brush my lips tenderly against his skin. He’s so warm, so soft… He mumbles something that sounds garbled. My brain doesn’t even try to compute it if they were actual words, I’m past caring. My thumb locates the major carotid artery and I kiss it, closing my eyes I struggle with the need that’s corroding my mind. It’s not sugar plums dancing in my head, its Graham consuming every inch of me. He moans as my hips meet his, crushing us together and I let this
dull-the-will
haze distract me.

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