“You need to stay close,” he said, giving me one lingering look before he moved toward the door. He waited for me there, one hand resting on the handle.
I shot him a confused look as I joined him. “Why?”
“You look like vampire bait, little one,” he said as he opened the door for me, a ghost of a smile easing the stern look on his pale face. “And I won’t be the only nightwalker present.”
“Oooh!” I laughed, delighted that he was feeling playful despite the meeting awaiting us both. As much as I was a homebody, the wine and skanky dress had gotten me in the mood for a night out, and if things went well, I was so planning on having a dance or two with my vampire buddy. Which would be much easier if he was in a good mood. “Well, thanks… I think?”
“Oh, it was a compliment,” he said, giving me a good once-over that made heat rise from the tips of my toes all the way to the roots of my hair.
I slapped his arm for good measure. “Be careful with those—I’m a very friendly drunk!”
* * *
I recognized Carina the second we entered Isla. The beautiful blonde was casually leaning against the bar, eyes scanning the many drunk and dancing humans. She was in a tight black dress that displayed her long legs, but despite the wispy material, hers didn’t make her look even the slightest bit skanky. She was all cool elegance and impeccable beauty, and I did my best not to hate her as I waved hello.
She nodded at me, all grace and manners, eyes flicking from my neck to my cleavage, down to Warin’s hand resting lightly against my lower back as he led me through the throng of people. When she looked back up at me, a small smile pulled her painted lips up at the corners.
I flushed at what she was obviously thinking. Vampire bait, indeed. I wasn’t entirely sure why she was so convinced her boss and I were getting it on, but it was somewhat harder to ignore when I wasn’t wrapped up in thick sweaters and old t-shirts so unattractive they might as well have “closed for business” printed across the front. I hadn’t really thought much about my appearance when I hung out with Warin—it was just him and me, after all, and I wasn’t trying to get into his pants. However, Carina’s knowing smirk made his teasing compliment flash through my brain again.
He liked how I looked tonight.
And I liked that he liked it.
“I’m going to need a drink,” I mumbled, banking on Warin’s vampire hearing picking it up over the throb of music as I shimmied toward the bar. Since I was mostly here as sacrificial lamb anyway, there was no reason not to drown in alcohol my blooming realization that I was eventually going to fuck up our friendship with ridiculous feelings.
“Jack Daniel & Coke,” I told the bartender as I fished through my purse for cash. “Double.”
A cool touch against my fingers made me still and look up. Warin appeared by my side, sliding a black Amex across the bar. “Keep a tab open for the young lady,” he said to the man behind the bar.
“No, it’s all right—“ Another touch, this time to my bare shoulder, made me quiet down. Despite his chilly body temperature, heat bloomed from where he’d brushed his fingertips against me. Damn.
“You’re here because of me. Anything you need is on me. If the initial proceedings go well, I expect I will be tied up with details for some time. Carina has been instructed to watch over you, so once an initial understanding is reached, you can feel free to enjoy the facilities.”
I only hesitated for a moment, because manners, but modesty be damned—Isla was an expensive club. “Thank you.” And before I could stop myself, I continued, “S’long as you know it takes more than a couple drinks before I offer up a vein!”
It was meant as a joke, but Warin’s gaze flickered to my throat for just the briefest of seconds, and instead of feeling the appropriate horror at what he was clearly picturing… my abdomen kind of melted in response.
“Oh, goddess.” I groaned at the unmistakable sensation of my panties soaking through as a blush to rival the bright neon sign above the bar swept up to cover my chest, neck and face. Without looking back at Warin, I grabbed my Jack and Coke and downed a hearty gulp.
The knowledge that my otherwise tame vampire buddy, who swore he never ate from anything but donor bags, clearly wasn’t a complete stranger to imagining his fangs in my throat should have filled me with either indignation and/or terror. I mean, it was one thing having him lick me down after my skinwalker attack stirred all sorts of inappropriate thoughts in my depraved mind—after all, he was very handsome, and he had been licking me from head to toe. But needing a panty change at the thought of having him bite me? Puncturing my skin and sucking blood from my veins?
Clearly, it’d been too long since I last got laid, because no sane woman should say anything but “fuck no” with an extra helping of “nope!” to that.
I glanced at Warin out the corner of my eye, but thankfully, he was too busy staring across the crowd to pay attention to my quiet meltdown.
“We’ve been summoned,” he murmured next to me, his mouth close enough to my ear that I could hear him over the music.
I looked up and spotted Raven, wearing a black leather corset and matching mini-skirt. She stood next to a door half-ajar by the side of the bar, staring at us.
I sighed and downed the rest of my drink in two long gulps. The bartender slid another across the bar for me before I could even ask. I nodded at him and turned to Warin, fresh drink in hand. “Let’s go stop a war.”
16
Raven stayed silent as she led us through a narrow corridor with red walls lined with black and peeling doors. It wasn’t quite wide enough to allow us to walk side by side, so Warin walked ahead of me, and I got the distinct impression it was to shield me from any surprise attacks.
It was kinda cute, even if it was also kinda ridiculous—if these particular witches had wanted me dead, all it would have taken was for Raven to slip something in my tea at work.
Finally, toward the back of the building, Raven stopped and knocked on a door that looked like all the others. A confirming murmur from inside, and the door creaked open. Raven stepped back to allow us in, hands clasped behind her back. She looked at Warin with obvious distaste as we passed her.
Inside, Joana sat by an oval table, and next to her was a man who looked to be in his early thirties, despite a receding hairline. He had a round face, and the hostility on it looked severely out of place.
“Lord Warin,” Joana said. She nodded at Warin, an aura of serenity around her. Despite the respectful greeting, she didn’t get up.
“Priestess Joana,” he said, tone clipped but equally calm.