“Nina wouldn’t let anything happen to us,” I told him. “And neither would Vlad … maybe.”
“That’s right,” Nina said, her voice cutting through the din of the bar. “But follow the plan. Stay close, go nowhere alone. And don’t be so liberal with the fact that I brought you here.” She smiled sweetly in the dim light, her white fangs nearly glowing.
I followed behind Nina, pressing through the throngs of clubgoers while Parker stayed behind me, a breath away. His hand brushed against mine and my heart did a little flip-flop as I felt his fingers interlace with mine and hold on tightly.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I heard him whisper in my ear.
“I knew it was just a matter of time before Sophie came for a roll with her troll.”
I wrinkled my nose while my stomach lurched.
“Hi, Steve,” I said as Steve smiled lasciviously, his gray tongue darting over his lips, his yellow troll eyes intent on the too-short hem of my skirt.
“And usually Steve only gets the pleasure of running into Sophie behind a desk.” He wiggled his caterpillar brows. “Or running around a desk.” Steve leaned back, the sharkskin weave of his tiny suit catching the metallic light of the overhead disco ball, his gold chains nestling in the pale green lichen on his chest.
I frowned. “Nina and I were just—” I blinked in the dim light, but Nina was gone. I went to tighten my grip around Parker’s hand, but he was gone, too. I scanned the bobbing heads, looking for Vlad, for Lucy. “Um, my friends are …”
“Right here,” Steve said, stepping closer, his troll stench engulfing me. “Care to dance, my breathing baby?”
“Actually—” I looked around wildly, deciding that if Nina and Parker weren’t dead already, I was going to kill them. “I should really go find my friends.”
Steve lurched toward me, and I stepped back, suddenly feeling the heat prick at the back of my neck, for the first time noticing how Nina’s borrowed corset was making it difficult for me to breathe. I thumped into a zombie, who stared at me, his cold, dead eyes milky, his stiff, purpled arm rising slowly until his cold, wrinkled fingers touched my forearm and started to dig into my flesh. I whimpered, pulling away, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks and the tears to my eyes as faces swirled around me—vampires with blood-red eyes and slick white fangs bared; zombies with their purpled, decaying flesh; all manner of demons thriving, salivating. I felt a pair of arms encircle my waist tightly, pulling me hard, and I kicked wildly, thrashing through the crowd.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Parker’s voice was soft and warm in my ear, his lips pressing against my lobe. I felt his arms soften around me, his palms pressing against my abdomen.
“Sorry, buddy.” Parker grinned down at Steve who looked up, dumbfounded. “Looks like my girl has had a little too much to drink.”
“Your girl?” Steve’s one eyebrow rose quizzically.
“Your girl?” I turned, craning my head to stare incredulously at Parker.
Parker didn’t miss a beat; his long eyelashes batted once and he eyed me. “Sorry, my lady.”
“Steve didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Steve told me, skeptically. “Steve is not so sure about all this.”
Parker’s grip tightened around my waist, and the pulsing embarrassment I felt a minute ago had turned to rage. “Oh, you know Sophie.” He nuzzled my neck, and I had to work to keep angry as the shiver went down my spine and directly into the pit of my stomach. “Shy, shy, shy.”
Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest and jutted out one short leg. I saw that he was wearing tiny alligator-skin cowboy boots that skimmed his knees. “Steve thinks you might be pulling his leg. Steve doesn’t think you two are an item.”
I opened my mouth, and Parker clamped his hand over it, then stroked my face lovingly. “An item? Maybe. If you can call soul mates an item.”
“Soul mates?” I worked my way out of Parker’s grip, but he was quick, rearranging his hands so they were firmly cupping my butt and my breasts were crushed against his chest.
“She can’t keep her hands off me,” he said to Steve.
“I—” My mouth was open, and then Parker’s mouth was on mine. His lips were gentle at first, but as I tried to speak he pressed harder against me, his lips hot and insistent, his tongue darting into my mouth, effectively silencing me.
The man was a genius.
I felt his fingers travel up my back and then entangle themselves in my hair, and before I could command them otherwise, my arms were wrapped around Parker, my hands splayed on his back, feeling, caressing every chiseled inch of him.
I heard him groan, and I wanted to do the same as his fingers trailed down to my neck, his forefingers and thumbs working little circles, creating sparks all the way down my spine.