The Wicked Kiss (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #2)
Trina M. Lee
Chapter One
I stared at the creepy nightclub across the street. The Wicked Kiss isn’t the type of place I especially enjoy walking into. Inside, you feel as if you’ve just become the latest tasty item on the menu. Being a werewolf made it no different than if I’d been human. I was food in this place. The vampire bar may have been fascinating to some, like the many donors who risk it nightly, but to me, it’s just plain scary.
I had only been inside the club once, years ago, and I’d heard they had renovated the place since. Probably so they could add in some secret passageways or hidden torture rooms. Just a guess.
Trying to calm the nervous butterflies in my stomach, I gave my hair and makeup a final and unnecessary check. My smoky black eyeliner was still perfectly framing my dark brown eyes. I’d worn bold red lipstick, which wasn’t the usual for me. Considering the location, I’d planned on blending in the best I could. I had to admit to myself that I looked pretty hot.
I ran my fingers through my long hair and took a deep breath. The chunks of dyed gold that I’d had blended into my light, ash blonde hair had faded out over the past few months. Always one to have fun with color, I’d replaced it with an amazing fire engine red. The alternating layers of blonde and red that framed my face did wonders to play up my eyes.
Now that I was at The Wicked Kiss, I really didn’t want to go in. And, I never would have even considered it if Kale hadn’t been inside. He’d been missing for three days, and he wouldn’t likely be anywhere else for that length of time. Because he was my colleague and my friend, I was willing to withstand some discomfort. That, and because if I didn’t go in there and drag him out, Kylarai would, which couldn’t possibly go over well.
Kylarai Kramer, my passive-aggressive best friend, had been seeing my danger-seeking vampire colleague for the last three months. However, they had been coming to realize that their relationship wasn’t going to be too cut and dried.
One of the reasons I didn’t want Ky going into The Wicked Kiss was because she wasn’t comfortable with Kale taking blood from the donors there. Unfortunately, blood is a vital part of a vampire’s existence, and Kale, being a product of vampire torture, preferred the donor set up to the kill. Feeding for a vampire can be very intimate and often includes more than blood alone. Kylarai knows it’s part of being with Kale, whether she likes it or not.
Steeling myself against the nerves that threatened to keep me in the car, I double checked my shoulder bag for my cell phone and opened the door. I paused to adjust my cle**age in the tight-fitting, black corset I wore. It looked great paired with pinstriped dress pants and my favorite four-inch heeled boots. A strategically placed leather choker was my way of hiding my neck. No open invitations here.
Bumping the door of my red Dodge Charger Daytona shut with my hip, I locked it with a beep and crossed the street. I scanned the parking lot of the bar for Kale’s slick 1973 Camaro. Sure enough, there it was near the back. I was somewhat surprised to see that his rims were still attached to his car. This wasn’t a good area of town. Although, anyone who wants to live to see another day wouldn’t touch a car in this lot.
If I said I wasn’t scared to walk through the doors of the club, I’d be lying. I was somewhat reassured that both Kylarai and Jez knew where I was. If they didn’t hear from me within an hour or two, they were supposed to come in after me.
Of course, if I was dead or forced to be somebody’s plaything by then, it wouldn’t matter. There were rules in this place, as far as I knew, but, I mean, we’re talking vampires here.
Nobody lingered outside. Two heavy wooden doors opened into a small foyer. A cashier stand stood off to one side where a female vampire waited to take my cover charge. She was new, as in, a new vampire; the energy rolling off her felt tainted with human. At least the smell of death had faded.
How many vampires woke up to their new life in this place? I shuddered at the thought, but my curiosity was piqued.
A few feet away from the cashier stand was a tall, beefy bouncer. He, too, was a member of the undead as was most of the staff in this place. He gave me a critical once over before nodding his head towards the cashier chick.
“How much?” I asked her, fully aware that I sounded like a total newbie.
“Ten bucks,” she replied, making no attempt to hide her wonder as she ogled me.
Werewolves are not nearly as common or easy to become as vampires. This happened often.
Handing her a ten dollar bill, I turned away to pass the big vampire blocking the entry into the club beyond. He crossed his big arms over his chest and looked down at me from his tall stance.
“Sorry, but anything coming in here that isn’t human is subject to being searched.”