Muscle shirt, gold necklace, cologne wafting from a mile away… Yeah, this guy was here for a good time.
I hadn’t eaten a proper meal in over three days, and stealing wasn’t a standard I lowered myself to. Hustling, on the other hand, was a challenge and helped me brush up on my social skills. But tonight my body ached from exhaustion and dark light, so the sooner I could end this hunt the better.
“That’s the way I like to see a man eat,” I said, sidling up to his chair.
He lowered his eyes to my legs. They were long, elegant, and could lock around a man’s neck and rob him of consciousness in ten seconds flat.
I hooked my finger on the corner of his plate and dragged it in my direction. “How about if I feed you, would you like that?”
His hand grazed my bare thigh and I playfully slapped it.
Before he lost interest, I spun a chair around and straddled it. He all but choked when my black dress left an opening in the front.
I gave him a coy smile, eyeing his juicy cheeseburger. “Why don’t you feed me, big boy? I need something big and juicy in my mouth.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked me up and down, his expression switching from interest to disgust. “Get the fuck out of here, leech.”
Leech. One of the colorful words Breeds used for scavengers like me who had no family, no job, and no dignity. I called it survival.
Strike two.
Discouraged, I kicked the chair in and relocated to the far side of the room where I spotted a Vampire at the end of the bar with the largest plate of golden onion rings I’d ever seen.
Now that’s a sight to behold, I mused.
I assessed his black coat and lace-up boots, which were as worn as mine and told me he wasn’t a man who flaunted his money—if he even had any. His dark brown hair was a little long on top, and despite the short beard that had recently graduated from a five-o’clock shadow, I could see his chiseled cheekbones. He was so unassuming that I almost hadn’t noticed him sitting there.
Vampires often hung out in bars, eavesdropping on conversations with their heightened hearing ability. Some of them worked as secret-sellers and blackmailed people for money, which was probably what this guy was doing. I didn’t trust them, but hunger makes you do desperate things.
“Hi, handsome. Would you like some company?”
He flicked his wrist, waving me away. “Shoo. I’m busy.”
My words became tight, and I flashed him a baleful look. “Maybe you should order a clove of garlic on the side, Vamp.”
As I turned away, he wrapped his fingers around my throat and yanked me against him, my back to his chest. The Vampire’s grip was iron, and I couldn’t escape if I tried.
His breath heated my neck just behind my ear, and he spoke with a dark Irish accent. “Careful who you rub up against, lass. I’m not into parasites, but I’m willing to let it slide for a little action.”
“Keep dreaming.”
He chuckled darkly. “Why don’t you check out where my hand is?” Beneath my dress, he squeezed his fingers, which were resting on my bare hip. One of them slid beneath the thin strap of my panties. “Mmm, lace. I bet they’re as black as your hair, aren’t they?”
I tipped my head back, a smile in my voice. “Why don’t you check out where my hand is?”
He released his hold, and I slowly turned, one of my push daggers pricking his family jewels. They were my favorite weapon to carry. Easy to conceal, they varied in size, I could wear one almost anywhere on my body, and the T-shaped handle provided a solid grip.
I tapped the three-inch blade against his crotch, careful not to look him in the eye so he couldn’t charm me. “You’re lucky you caught me on a good night.”
His wolfish brows drew together. “Unusual set of winkers you’ve got there. Why don’t you raise them up an inch and give me a better look?”
I’d learned early on that Vampires wouldn’t hesitate to use their gifts of persuasion—all they had to do was hypnotize you with those black eyes. I hadn’t inherited that gift, so I got out of dangerous situations by relying on clever tactics.
Like staring at his Adam’s apple.
“You might be stronger than I am, but you’re not as fast as a Mage.”
He casually rested his elbow on the mahogany bar and leaned on it. “I’ll give you a ring if you go away.”
“I don’t want your onion rings, nor do I want your hand up my dress. I’m going to back away, and you’re going to keep your hands where they are. You know the rules about fighting in a Breed bar.”
“Aye, but do I care?”
What incensed me wasn’t his cocksure attitude or even that he’d put his hand up my dress. It was the unexpected thrill of how inviting and sensual his hand felt against my thigh, the slow and delicate way his finger slid beneath my panties, the familiarity of his touch—so much so that I had to calm my heart to a steady beat before he picked up on it.