Four Days (Seven Series #4)

I smiled warmly at him before leaving. Like most men, Denver wasn’t big on sharing his feelings. I hadn’t been sure until that moment where we stood; he had been aloof after finding out why Fox was hanging around our land. Maybe he blamed me for bringing trouble to our doorstep and putting Maizy in danger, but whatever resentment he might have held was now gone.

 

I rolled up the sleeves on my flannel shirt to my elbows as I walked down the hall. The club had a musty smell of stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and perfume. Wheeler was relaxing at a round table near the dance floor, holding a shot of whiskey to his lips. He froze when he saw me, so I nodded to let him know everything was fine.

 

“Pocahontas, you want to have a dance?” a man asked.

 

I turned around when someone tugged on my shirtsleeve. I surmised him to be a Vampire by his liquid black eyes—a striking contrast against his short hair. It looked bleached, similar to the way April used to dye hers.

 

“I have a thing for exotic girls,” he said with a mischievous smile.

 

I lowered my eyes to the cross on his neck, avoiding eye contact. With a single glance, Vampires could plant suggestions and charm a person into doing things they wouldn’t normally do. They could also erase memories and make a person talk, so that made them a dangerous Breed to tangle with.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t dance, but thank you.”

 

A smile spread across his face as if he were the Cheshire cat. “You are a polite little thing, aren’t you?”

 

“Are impolite women all you are accustomed to spending your time with?”

 

His smile waned. “I only wanted a dance.”

 

I gently pulled my arm free from his grasp. “Then don’t mock a woman when asking her to spend time with you. It shows your indifference to her feelings. Perhaps your clever remarks are meant to show you have a sense of humor, but how would you feel if I called you Dracula?”

 

He moved his mouth slightly to the side, giving my words some thought. “My apologies. Perhaps I’ll ask you again later and we’ll see how I do.”

 

Admittedly, he was forgivable. I’d never spent much time with other Breeds, so it was nice to see they didn’t all fit the stereotype.

 

“We’ll see.”

 

Satisfied by my answer, he pushed up the sleeves of his grey sweater and bowed. “Until we meet again, fair lady.”

 

Why is a Vampire interested in someone like me? I thought, walking away. I couldn’t help but find everyone’s motives suspect. People didn’t date outside their Breed where I came from. Reno and April had always seemed like the exception.

 

I spotted Reno and waved.

 

He didn’t wave back. In fact, a little vein pulsed in his forehead as I approached. “What the hell are you doing out here? Alone?” he growled.

 

“Austin sent me on a food run, but I also wanted to speak with you. Can I sit?”

 

He pushed his short glass away and I sat beside him, turning my chair to face him. I set my cane against the table and smoothed down a few flyaway hairs. “How soon will you have information on the birthday party?”

 

His eyes lit with amusement. “I’m still waiting for my girl to call me with the details. Should be soon. You don’t need to worry about a thing; we’ll get the cake in time.”

 

“Tomorrow morning, Reno. That’s all I can wait. Something needs to change, or I won’t be able to attend the party.”

 

Reno leaned in tight. “Dammit, Ivy. Don’t put me in this situation. My hands are tied, and I can only do so much. It takes time to organize a party.”

 

For the second time, Reno’s eyes flicked behind me, scanning the room.

 

“I don’t want to distract you, but I’m hanging on by a thread. Please do whatever you can—whatever it takes.”

 

I left the table and reached the bar, signaling for the bartender. He had a silly black mustache that curled at the ends, and it made me laugh. “Hi. We have a private party going in the back, and I was wondering if you have any snacks—something that won’t go bad. Peanuts?”

 

He chuckled and pursed his lips. “We have a gourmet medley of nuts and cookies.”

 

“Did you say cookies? Fresh or from the bag?”

 

He leaned forward on his forearms. “From the bag. They’re little round ones, the kind the ladies like to nibble while sipping on their fruity drinks.”

 

“A friend of mine is opening a bakery soon. Would you be interested in some samples? Your customers might prefer cookies that are homemade by Breed.”

 

He reached into a small bowl and tossed a nut in his mouth. “That’s a tempting offer. Tell you what, bring a few samples in and I’ll let you know. Can’t promise you; it’s up to the owner as to who we do business with. If they cost more than the ones in the bags, then he’ll probably decline.”

 

“Are you charging for them?”

 

“Yep.”

 

I stood up straight and squeezed the silver grip on my cane. “Then you can raise the prices to compensate. Remember, these aren’t made in a factory by humans. I think your customers will appreciate that fact. Think about the little things that will set you apart from every other club.”

 

He slid a napkin and a pen in front of me. “Give me your number.”

 

So I wrote Weston and put down the main line to the house.

 

“My name’s Gilly,” he said with a wink. “Be right back with your nuts.”

 

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