Shit, could he sense it? I had to be really careful or this would blow up in my face.
He led me through the crowd, most of whom nodded and smiled at Liam. Some offered hands, which Liam graciously accepted—he was a gentleman after all—nothing fazed him and everyone either liked him or was so frightened of him they wanted to keep on his good side. The humans, of course, were oblivious to what he was.
Liam stopped one of the waiters. “Two red wines at my table.”
“I’d rather have water, Liam.” Having a glass filled with red liquid sitting in front of me was not going to help my intensifying thirst for blood.
“Two wines,” Liam reiterated to the waiter and the guy darted into the crowd before I could say anything.
The bastard was testing my control, and as stubborn and determined as I was, he just might win this battle, because as we weaved through the crowd, my body screamed for blood while my mind rejected it. I couldn’t focus on anything without splotches of red impairing my vision. I wanted to run,, yet part of me yearned to grab Liam and sink my teeth into his neck.
But that was what he wanted. Why he asked me here tonight. To see if I was ready to willingly drink his blood.
Liam’s reserved table was located at the back of the club close to the dance floor, but far enough away not to be bumped and bothered by some of the more untamed and intoxicated patrons. The booth was clothed in red velvet with a black marble table in the center with red candles flickering shadows across the surface. The entire club was done in black and crimson with a hint of white, like a candle or throw pillow in the lounging area.
Liam squeezed my waist to get my attention when we stopped at his table. “Abigail, my love, may I introduce Jasmine. A new business acquaintance of mine.” Bastard knew I hated when he called me Abigail.
“A pleasure,” the woman nodded to me, but remained seated in the booth.
She wrapped her long, manicured fingers around her wine glass and lifted it to her bright red lips. My eyes widened and breath caught in my throat when I noticed the white webbing tattooed on her fingers.
Shit, she was a Lilac. A vampire and a Lilac together couldn’t be good.
I’d never met a Lilac, as they were rare, but this woman’s gorgeous appearance matched how Trinity had described their fabled beauty. Perfectly smooth skin with long, ash-blonde hair that hung over her shoulders in soft tresses. Her eyes were so blue it was as if a can of cerulean paint had splashed into them. No wonder Lilac’s were able to draw in any man they chose. Not so good for the men.
What was Liam doing with a Lilac? What was a Lilac doing in Toronto? As far as I knew, it was an off-limits city, considering Waleron resided here and everyone knew Waleron’s history with Lilacs.
“Sit, my love.” Liam gestured with his arm to the booth. I slid in and he slid in after me. Jasmine sat across from us. “Abigail is making the Transition,” Liam drawled.
“Is that so?” Jasmine’s thin, penciled-on brows lifted. “My understanding is that you’re a witch at present. An interesting combination.”
So, Liam had spoken with this woman before and, obviously, it wasn’t all business. “Well, I don’t know if it worked—”
“Yes,” Liam interrupted. “It is a wonderful new beginning.”
She raised her glass of red wine. “A toast, to your new life. May it bring you both joy and an abundance of blood.”
I stiffened at Jasmine’s remark. No. It was impossible. She couldn’t know. No one knew, except Trinity and me. If any vampire found out—if the Scars found out—Christ, what had I done?
Everything would’ve been fine if not for the pregnancy. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. I didn’t even know whether I could survive the detox and still keep my baby alive. Shit, if the detox would even work. If I Transitioned…
Jasmine wore a perfectly ironed white blouse with the two top buttons left undone, revealing a hint of her lace bra. Her smile was kind, and yet everything about her made me uneasy—sharp angular jaw and eyes that refused to waver, even under Liam’s intensity.
I shivered, rubbing my bare arms and shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Something felt off. Why had Liam wanted me to meet Jasmine? Or had it been the other way around? Did Jasmine want to meet me? Did she know about my ability? Liam and Jasmine knew I’d recognize what she was.
She reached into her black purse and pulled out an envelope, sliding it across the table to Liam. “I think this will help convince you.”
Liam picked it up without saying anything, slit it open with his long baby fingernail, and pulled out what appeared to be a legal document. His eyes scanned the document; then there was a tug upward at the corners of his mouth. When he looked up, his eyes sparkled a deep yellow and he chuckled.