Ollie, Ollie Hex 'n Free (6 page)

I glanced at my watch. There was still time to spare.

The musty smell of sweat filled my nostrils as the squeaking of shoes on the basketball court, the hum of machines, and the faint music from headphones all around me blended with the steady heart beats of my favorite hunting ground: the gym.

Exercise increased blood flow and endorphins, brightening the life force of everyone in the building—well, everyone except for the woman who looked like she was dying on the elliptical machine next to me. I walked the steady pace of the treadmill, blending in and focusing on nothing but the closed door of the class in front of me. I had particular tastes this evening.

Hunger had driven me from Selene’s garden. A side effect of our bond was when Selene wore herself down she dipped into her reserves—a.k.a. me. She’d siphoned energy from me tonight as she healed from combat. The more she took, the more my hunger became desperate and ravenous. If I didn’t appease it somehow—and doing so would require more than a bump or a touch this time—the pure need would devour my mind.

I left the elves before the temptation of feeding until drunk with life from their longevity became more than I could bear. It would have to be a human: a delicious, vibrant, unsuspecting human. There’s a reason vampires hunt humans more than any other race. Their lives, so long as it was just one or two here or there, could be absorbed without consequence—without bounties being placed on us.

Metal groaned and crushed beneath my hands, tearing me away from my thoughts. Immediately I released the bars at my sides. There were perfect indentations of my hands in each. I glanced around to see if anyone else had heard the awful noises, but no one so much as flinched as music blared in their ears. They were blind and deaf antelope to a stalking lion. I loved it here.

Finally, the door opened. A slow, steady stream of agile women poured from the room, rolled up mats beneath their arms. Too old, too blonde, too tall, too muscular—my breath caught. That was her. That was my angel.

I had been watching her for weeks, saving her for just the right occasion. Lithe and tanned, with long dark hair and golden brown eyes (too much brown, but close enough), she was as close to a match as I ever hoped to find. The force of my stare made her glance up, then do a double take. Giving her the barest of smiles, I lifted my chin slightly in acknowledgement before turning off the machine and focusing on wiping it down. The net had been cast.

I could feel the girl coming close and hear her quick nervous heartbeat. When she was within an arm’s reach, I turned to face her. Staring down into her amber eyes, I tilted my head to the side. “Are you waiting for the treadmill?”

She snapped her mouth closed and blinked. Capturing her bottom lip between her teeth, she gave a smile that every woman who knew she was attractive had in her arsenal. The smile that was almost shy, almost inviting, and whole-heartedly flirty. One of her fingers found the end of her ponytail and twisted it. “I
never
do this, but I’m Jill.”

I took her hand slowly and brushed my lips over the silky back, drawing from her as I did. “The pleasure is mine,” I said softly.

Her face was dreamy and her eyes were half closed, as she gave me a sleepy smile. She moved to take a step closer when her legs gave out completely. I caught her in my arms, drawing more from her, and basking in the sweet flow of life before her friends rushed over to help. The two other girls hoisted her up as she struggled to get her legs under her.

“Whoa, I’m really dizzy. Guess I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.”

“Do you need help to your car?” I asked, needing more. It was over too soon.

“No, I’m fine. I just need to sit for a second.”

“We’ll take care of her. Sorry,” her friend on the right said as they helped her over to a bench.

The edge of my hunger was dulled, but it was far from being sated. I had taken too much from her too fast. If I continued it’d likely put her body into distress and severely lessen the amount of energy I could take. Drawing every last ounce of succulent energy was an art. If done too fast, the well would shut down and evaporate. Too slow and it ceased to be filling. I wrenched myself away and forced myself to take slow, noisy, heavy steps like a human all the way out of the building.

****

“Despite popular belief, women do not fancy brooding men,” Paolo spoke directly into my ear before taking a seat at my booth across from me.

“Like you’d know.” I dangled a cardboard coaster between two fingers, barely able to stand the obnoxious music screeching through the air. I should have gone to a bar in the Abyss. They were quieter.

“You haven’t been around much recently. People have been talking,” Paolo said.

“Fuck ‘em.” I shrugged.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Corbin, but never have I witnessed you in a human establishment with no snacks around.”

I spun the coaster on the table, watching it go around and around and around, never really getting anywhere—and then I slapped it down flat. It still wasn’t moving, but at least its world had stopped spinning.

“Do you know what they’re saying about you?” When I didn’t respond, he carried on. “They’re saying you have sired. That you are in love. Is that what I’m looking at? Is this love?”

I finished my drink and held the empty glass up for the waitress.

“But you wouldn’t have sired a new vampire without speaking to me first.” His ancient strength bore down on me. “You know what it would do to her if you do.”

Her
. We never said her name. Maybe it was out of respect or maybe it was superstition—a desire to not tempt Hell. Who could even remember at this point? She had been my sire, and there was a time I loved her. But she was even more to Paolo, and that had connected us for many years. The moment I gave her up was the moment Hell took her for good. I did it for Selene. I accepted the refreshed glass from the waitress. “She’s gone. Has been for a while.”

Paolo blinked. “Then you are free. Are you in mourning? It must be a relief. The pain…”

The pain had been constant and staggering while she was in Hell, but I wasn’t free. Now there was Selene and that bond would never end. She couldn’t break it because she wasn’t a vampire. For as long as she was alive, I would long for her. The best we would ever do was use each other, but I couldn’t tell Paolo any of it. We were friends now, had been for hundreds of years, but if the day ever came that he wanted me dead—for whatever reason—he wouldn’t be able to succeed unless he first killed her. She was my safety net and my torment to bear.

“It is.”

“Then why are you here drinking this swill?” He wrinkled his nose as he picked up the glass and gave it a sniff.

“The better question is why are you here? I have a phone.” No doubt one of his spies spotted me. Distraction and hunger made me sloppy.

The pain took my breath. Sharp and deliberate in my side. Selene had been impaled. I clutched the table and waited for her final breath. I couldn’t get to her in time even if I left now. Then it passed. The pain vanished and Selene’s worry gnawed at me. I loosened one finger at a time from the table, knowing Paolo was watching and cataloguing the moment. We were fine. She was fine.

“Care to share?” he asked.

She wanted to see me, but the desire was fleeting and weak. I wasn’t falling for it again. “I should probably find a snack,” I told him.

He nodded and gestured forward like a dare. “By all means.”

He wanted a show. He wanted to see I was still in control, that I wasn’t going to expose us. I slid out of the booth. I didn’t have to look around. I knew every heart beat in this bar and what sort of target they were the moment I stepped foot inside. The desperate line across the front, loners. They were the easiest. A little conversation, a brush of a hand and they would be putty in my hand. The bachelorette party, the second easiest target: intoxicated women determined to have fun and be overly flirtatious spurred on by penis straws. They would hang on me and talk loudly with few words and plentiful smiles. Couples were harder, but not impossible. It would take a lot more charm to get myself to their table and it had to be strategically through the male, which wasn’t really my style. But none of these were my target. No, I was after the two women in business attire who appeared to be having a deep conversation over a single drink. They sent out strong do not disturb vibes to the rest of the room, so obviously they would be the most fun.

I couldn’t manipulate their feelings like a jinni. . . My life would have been so much easier if I could. I had to charm them the old fashioned way. Touching them helped. A vampire’s touch made people hazy and relaxed as we fed, to prevent fleeing mostly. What I needed was a reason to approach their table.

One of the bachelorette party had her purse hanging on the back of an unoccupied chair. I snagged it as I went by and stopped by a couple tables on my way toward them, asking if anyone owned the hot pink purse in my hand.

“Excuse me.” I waited for them both to look at me. “This purse was left at the bar. I just wanted to check if it belonged to either of you or if you saw anyone with it. Should be hard to miss.”

“Um, yeah actually. The redhead in the black shirt had it with her in the bathroom,” the woman on the right said.

I smiled wide. “Thanks.”

I took the purse back to the woman in question. She took it back and gave me a long, sloppy hug, which was a nice taste, but not the one I had set my sights on. The two women watched the scene, laughing. I shot them several distressed glances before the one who spoke came to my rescue.

“Ladies, if you don’t mind, I need to borrow him.” She took my hand. “Congratulations,” she said to the woman wearing a tiara and a sash.

We were back at her table before she released my hand, and her eyes were slightly unfocused. “I figured the least I could do was save you from that since you were doing a good deed and all.”

“I appreciate it, thanks. Michael.” I offered her my hand.

“Emily,” she said, shaking it—another sip. “This is Tammy.”

I offered her friend my hand next, taking a longer pull. “It’s lovely meeting you as well.”

And as easy as that I was in. I pulled up a chair. Fifteen minutes and two more drinks later they were mine. I went back to my table with Paolo, one under each arm.

Paolo smirked. “Point made.”

“Next time call.” I tossed some money on table and left with the women, but they weren’t the ones I wanted. My Selene lookalike was still out there…and tonight she was mine.

I escorted the women to their cars then left. Jill would be home by now. Perhaps she would satisfy this hunger. She had to.

As if the mere thought conjured her into being, Selene’s desire to see me once again filled me. This time it wasn’t faint or fleeting. It was firm and directed. I resisted. I wouldn’t go. I wasn’t her lapdog and I never would be. She wanted Cheney. She chose him. I was done.

I continued down the street, ignoring her—then stopped short as she appeared in front of me. Selene wasn’t one to be denied.

“Where are we?” She looked around the street.

I sighed. “What do you want?”

“We didn’t finish our conversation.”

I took her by the shoulders and gently moved her out of my way. “Go home.”

“Corbin.”