Cursed by Night (Her Dark Protectors #1)

Ding-ding-ding, we have a winner. Would it be too much to get a lap dance from this guy solely so I can smell him? I bet he’d make me pay extra for that.

“I need to use the ladies’ room.” I stand, keeping my purse close to my body, and look around. I don’t really have to go, but I need to get a closer look at the stripper, and one more minute with Darrell might lead me to becoming a murderer myself.

“By the bar,” Darrell says, fishing a dollar bill from his pocket. I take my drink with me, dropping it in a trash barrel as I walk by. Joe leaps off the stage, making the bachelorette partygoers scream and squeal. I slow to watch him go to the bride, thrust his hips in her face a few times, and then take her hand, leading her up onto the stage.

She’s a pretty girl, wearing a black and red corset that squeezes her already thin torso. Laughing, she sits in the wooden chair on the stage and holds up a handful of cash. Joe takes it, then drops it behind him, seemingly uninterested. Lights from the stage reflect off his eyes. It’s hazy in here already from the smoke, making it hard to discern if there’s something off about his eyes or if that reddish hint is from the red and pink lights flashing above him.

I go around a table, headed for the ladies’ room. And then I see her, one of the tight-leather-dress girls, wobbling through the back of this place to the private rooms. She’s drunk, hanging all over the guy and laughing loudly as she trips, hardly able to talk anymore. He slips his arm around her, nervously looking around.

Vampire or not, the guy’s a creep. She’s obviously had too much, and even if he’s not planning on drinking her blood, I’m willing to bet my badge on him not getting consent for anything he’s about to do.

I hurry down the hall after them, and my stupid heels catch on the carpet. I throw out my hand to catch myself, but me tripping over my own fucking feet doesn’t go unnoticed.

The guy dragging tight-leather-dress girl jerks his head back, startled. The lights flash, reflecting off his eyes like an animal in headlights. For a split second, he just stares at me, and then he starts forward again, probably assuming I’m just another drunk girl who can’t walk a straight line to save her life. He picks up his pace, needing to practically lift the drunk girl off the ground so she can keep up.

I’m narrowing in, planning on pulling my badge from my purse and having him arrested for sexual assault. And then I smell it, and it’s getting stronger and stronger the closer I get to the private rooms.

Sulfur.





15





I freeze, eyes going wide. My heart skips a beat, and every muscle inside me twitches in response. I want to run after him. I want to pull tight-leather-dress girl from his arms and bring her back to safety. I want to hit him hard in the face, harder in the dick, and end this once and for all.

But I can’t.

Because I know from the strong smell of sulfur coming from the looming room in front of me, he’s not the only vampire here. I went up against three vampires before and didn’t make it. I promised I wouldn’t take my chances, and I’m not even prepared. If I go in that room, there’s a good chance I’ll never come back out.

I lean against the wall and let out a breath, trying to stay calm and think clearly. I need a plan, and fast. Who knows what’s going to go on behind closed doors. Either way, I’m sure it won’t be in tight-leather-dress girl’s favor. She’ll be assaulted and violated in at least one way, and I cannot stand here and let that happen.

I’m not a betting person, but I’m willing to bet at least ninety percent of the people here at Delirium are humans. The bar is known for being dark, sexy, and obscure. Not murderous or dangerous. Reputation is important for places like this, but I don’t think that’s enough to work in my favor. I’m in the basement moving farther and farther away from the majority of the patrons.

The music is loud. Loud enough to drown out screams.

Taking another breath, I push off the wall, cursing the stupid heels, and move swiftly down the hall. It ends in a T, and they go to the left. I pause, slowly inching forward to see what I’m walking into. To my right is an exit that I’m guessing leads to the alley out back. To my left—and the way the vampire and tight-leather-dress girl went—is another hall. The lights are low and there are several doors on each side.

Low moaning comes from behind the closest door, followed by the distinct sound of an ass getting smacked.

“Harder, baby,” a muffled male voice cries. Someone’s ass gets smacked again and the moaning ensues. The door to room number five shuts and I continue down the hall, trying to see if the smell of sulfur is coming from one specific room.

It seems to be coming from all of them.

I stop before door number five and listen for a beat. I don’t hear anything, which is both good and bad, and I’m hoping it means there’s only one vampire in there. One I can handle.

Maybe.

Probably.

I fucking hope so.

I unzip my purse, making sure my gun is easily accessible, though I’m really hoping I’m not going to need it. Bullets won’t kill the vampire and explaining why I shot someone is not something I want to do right now. Or ever.

I blink, force my shoulders back, and grab the doorknob. It opens with a twist, and I stumble in, doing my best to appear wasted. The door hits the wall behind it, and the vampire jolts up. The room is set up much like a hotel room, with a bed in the center, lame decorations, and a dresser on the adjacent wall.

Unlike a regular hotel room, there are chains on the wall over the bed and bloodstains on the carpet. The guy is sitting on the bed, with the drunk girl on his lap. Her head droops down and I know she’s close to passing out.

“Josh?” I call, stumbling into the room. “Are you in here, Joshy? I’m sorry I got mad at you,” I slur, and stop a few feet from the door.

Tight-leather-dress girl looks up, blinking rapidly. She’s so drunk she has no idea what’s going on. The guy narrows his eyes and I’m still not sure if he’s human or a vampire. The entire room stinks like sulfur, cigarette smoke, and bleach. The scent is so strong it makes me nauseous. He narrows his eyes and his glare gives me a chill.

“You’re not Josh.” I put out my hand, acting like I can hardly stand. “But hey!” I point to the girl. “I know you! We went to McKinley High together. Allison, right?”

“No, I’m Marissa, and I…I…” She leans over the bed and pukes. The guy on the bed shoves her to the floor, and her hands land in her vomit.

“Stupid bitch,” he sneers, and I think I see a flash of fang under his lips. He looks down at his feet, worried there might be puke on his expensive-looking shoes.

“I got her,” I say, trying to keep up my drun-girl pretense. “Come on, Marissa. Let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up.”

She grabs onto the bed, needing to pull herself up. I take her arm and start to lead her out the door. My heart is racing and I know I’m only seconds away from my cover being blown. The guy moves closer behind me and the source of the smell of sulfur is undeniable now. It’s coming from him.

“Come on,” I say again, and urge her to move a little faster. I’ve only been this drunk once before, and it was in college. I spent the night puking into my dorm’s toilet and was convinced I was dying. If I give her one second to hesitate and sit down, I probably won’t get her back up again.

We’re almost to the door when the guy grabs my arm.

“Looks like your boyfriend left you,” he coos in my ear. “Why don’t you stay and play with me?”

“In a room full of barf? No thank you.” I push Marissa out the door and jerk my arm back. He tightens his grip and tips his head down to mine, flashing red eyes.

He expected me to scream in shock and fear. He didn’t expect me to bring my knee up to his balls, then shove him back. He hits the door and opens his mouth. A row of fangs drops down from his gums.

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