Blood Eternal (10 page)

“A gut feeling.”

“Even worse. Use her and be done with it. Don’t over think the situation. During the decades you’ve done this, you’ve never come across an innocent victim. Humans are conniving, greedy, insignificant rats at best. Sooner you come to realize this, the better off you’ll be.”

Not easy to believe when every part of her screamed she was a tortured soul. “She has scars covering her. Collarbone, ribs, stomach, hips.”

Lorenzo faced the outskirts of the dance floor where Savannah sat and watched them. Her dark curls tumbled over one shoulder, gleamed in the light. “Whatever happened, she appears to have recovered.”

“Yes, so it seems.” Some, more than others, became adept at hiding the damage done to their person.

The side of Lorenzo’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “You’ve sampled the goods already?”

“No. I am not like you. I do not play with my food.” Although the temptation of Savannah weighed on him, getting involved with her would only destroy any objectivity he possessed.

“Unwilling to play, and yet you submit yourself to torture. I suppose the reward after this is worth it. Still, I might make an exception this time around.”

Jealousy lanced through him and he ground his teeth. “There is no exception for you to make.”

Lorenzo threw back his head and laughed, then narrowed his eyes. “As Shakespeare once wrote,
the devil hath power to assume a pleasing shape
. Perhaps your gut is telling you to take her life and move on.”

“Quoting Shakespeare does not make you wiser.”

“No, but being your elder does.” Lorenzo’s brows drew together and his jaw tightened. “It seems you’d rather wallow in your self-inflicted sorrow.” He leaned back and lit his cigarette. “This human will be your downfall if you continue to grow attached.”

“I understand the risks and would hardly call my concern an attachment.”

“Do you truly understand?” He inhaled and blew a steady stream of smoke. “One night’s chase is only a taste. You haven’t been hunted for centuries.”

At no point had he mentioned the chase from the other night. “What did you say?”

Lorenzo let loose a low, gritty chuckle. “Don’t stare at me with such wariness. I’m a hunted man. Of course I noticed two watchful, out-of-place vampires in my club. Both left right after you and my guess is, they weren’t following you to leave you alone. What do you take me for?”

The tension within him rippled along the lines of his body. Lorenzo spoke the truth. If anything happened in Blood Bar, either he or his goons would know about it. “I guess I have you to thank for the lack of warning.”

“You don’t actually believe ducking into the shadows with your human chit actually worked, do you?” Lorenzo fisted his free hand on the table. “
My
men led them away from
you
. You
owe
me
.”

“If your men led them away, perhaps they can tell me what the men following us wanted.”

“I told you. The Ancients are onto you. They were hired goons.” Lorenzo shrugged. “You should thank me for protecting you and your so-called meal.”

Luke was not convinced. “What is it you want in return for this protection?”

Lorenzo puffed another cloudy stream. “A night with the woman might suffice.”

“Forget it.” His muscles flexed but he remained seated. Never would that happen, if he could help it.

Lorenzo’s eyes flashed blood red for a moment before fading to their usual dark amber. He smiled, revealing a sliver of fang, and stood. “Your secretary should have sent the paperwork already. I’ll go check my fax and get you your signed contract.”

9

To dare is to lose one’s footing momentarily. To not dare is to lose oneself.

—Soren Kierkegaard

Savannah’s skin prickled. The blatant stares from those around her gave her the willies. Sure, the silky halter dress was sexy but once again Blood Bar was littered with eerily beautiful people. She hadn’t felt so self-conscious in her life. She bent her head. Such a complete lie. She’d always felt uncomfortable and on edge when spending time with Ben’s society friends.

Monica, the blonde from the other night, wore a blue one-shouldered mini dress. Lorenzo sat with Luke across the room, his tall, broad form clad in leather pants and a black cotton collared shirt. Both he and Monica could have walked right off the set of some nighttime bounty hunter soap opera.

Something about them haunted her. Even Luke gave off an aura. Beyond their eerie beauty, they possessed an ethereal grace and authority. Stunning yet frightening at the same time.

“Have you slept with him yet?” Monica’s icy blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Their color was so light it seemed otherworldly.

“Excuse me?” Savannah coughed out the lime slice she had been sucking on and wiped her mouth with her wrist. “Do you mean Luke?” She glanced to where he sat talking to Lorenzo, relieved he didn’t appear to have heard Monica’s comment or noticed her embarrassing reaction.

One blond brow lifted and she thrust a napkin toward her. “Are you seeing other men too?” Her husky Italian accent lingered over
other
.

“Of course not. It’s not like that between Luke and me.” She almost mentioned he was her employer but thought better of it. Maybe it was the sex-kitten looks or Monica’s daring attitude. Whatever it was, she didn’t trust her.

“There doesn’t have to be
anything
between you. Sex can be casual.”

“Maybe you Italians do things a bit differently but I don’t sleep with anyone casually, I barely know—”

“No lying.” She tsk-tsked. “Not Italians. Our nationalities aren’t what make us different.” She tilted her head.

A shiver skipped up Savannah’s spine. The way Monica emphasized her words made her uneasy. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. “If being Italian doesn’t make you different, what does?” Her stomach clenched as she anticipated the answer. What exactly did she expect the other woman to say?

“Oooh, a game. I love games.” Monica’s cherry lips split into a wide grin, revealing upper canines with slightly sharp points, like fangs. Ugh. Bet that was an ick factor with boyfriends.

She didn’t understand how a simple question became a game but if games were the only way to get information out of Monica, she’d give it a try. “So how does this work?”

“You ask questions and I say hot, warm, cool or cold depending on whether you are close to guessing what makes us different.”

Hot and cold, she could handle this. “Fine. Let’s start. Are you mafia?”

Monica’s nearly transparent eyes widened as she choked out a laugh. “What? Are you kidding?” Several guffaws followed as Savannah pursed her lips in annoyance. “I can’t believe…you would ask…such a ridiculous question.”

“A simple hot or cold would do.” It wasn’t that funny.

“Okay, okay.” Monica fanned herself and took a deep breath. “Waaay cold.”

“I got the point. Let’s move on.”

“Aw, Savannah, you’re not having any fun.” Monica’s full lips turned down at the sides and she placed her hands on her hips. Her dress stretched perfectly over her tall, lithe form. The pale blue enhanced the creaminess of her skin.

“I’m fine. Let’s keep going. How about this one. Are you part of any covert group or operation?”

Head tilted, Monica tapped a long red nail against her chin. “Hmm, a tough one. I guess I’d have to say warm.”

How could that be warm? It was a yes or no question, meaning hot or cold. Just as she was about to object, Luke approached. Damn it, right when she was getting somewhere with this ridiculous game.

“You behaving yourself, Monica?”

“We discussed what makes Italians so different from Americans,” Savannah said, suddenly eager to keep their game a secret.

Luke’s eyes narrowed then he smiled. “I would say there are quite a few differences.”

Monica stepped closer and rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nobody asked you.” Tossing her hair back, she drew a line along Savannah’s shoulder. “You’re moving slow, Luke. One would think you’ve lost your edge. Such lovely skin.”

It took everything within her not to pull away from the other female’s touch.
Slow
,
edge
? What was she talking about? “I’m right here. If you need to say something to me, you can.” For some reason, Monica’s taunting of Luke grated on her nerves.

“I think I’ll leave that to Luke.” Licking her lips, she bit down with one canine. The unusually sharp tooth punctured her lower lip and blood dribbled down her chin.

“What are you doing?” Savannah gasped and took a step back. “You’re bleeding.”

Monica’s pink tongue scooped up the drops. “So I am, ouch.”

“Enough.” Luke cupped his hand around Savannah’s waist, his touch comforting and possessive in the subtlest of ways. “She is not interested in any of your invitations.”

“I’m jealous,” Monica said, wiping blood off her chin. “She is going to be beautiful to watch.” Turning, she slipped away and disappeared through the crowd.

Luke rubbed his hands along Savannah’s arms, and she realized she’d gone cold. As he guided her out of the club toward the car, she scratched her forehead, wondering what the hell had happened. “What did Monica mean by beautiful to watch? Watch what?” And why had she bitten her own lip?

“Do not concern yourself with her. She is what you Americans call a drama queen. Lives to stir up trouble.”

She sighed. Deja vu. Once again, they were fleeing into the night and he evaded her questions. “I didn’t mean for us to go. If you’re not ready, we can stay. I just don’t want to be around Monica any more. She’s a bit frightening. Both her and Lorenzo.” Honestly, she didn’t much care for the entire crowd.

“You already mentioned you did not like Lorenzo.” He slipped into the driver’s side and started the car. “He is harmless.”

She didn’t believe Lorenzo harmless for a second. “I don’t like the way he watches me.” He made her skin crawl. “Why do you go there? They are so different. I mean you’re a bit formal at times. Still, you seem fairly normal. Different from those at Blood Bar.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

Of course he’d be polite. Was he being sarcastic? “I didn’t mean the comment as an insult to you.”

“I did not take it as such.” Luke’s brows drew together as he drove.

“Luke?”

“It is complicated.”

Of course. “Try me.”

“It is more of a societal thing, doing what is expected of me.”

Savannah turned toward the window and rested her head back against the leather seat. Strange, they seemed to come from two different worlds and yet she understood perfectly what he meant. The two years she’d spent with Ben had been full of expectations. Cocktail parties, dinner meetings, charity events. Even now, she spent her days working to meet demands of bill collectors. “You mean, versus doing what you want.” She bit her lip. “If only life were so simple.”

He cleared his throat. “If only,” he said.

She glanced at him, met his gaze momentarily then turned away. The silence between them settled into something comfortable and bittersweet. After a few days of clashing, they’d finally found a common ground. Rich and poor, they played to life’s demands and others’ wants. Too bad, this common ground consisted of the biggest disappointment in Savannah’s life and the one thing she strived to leave behind.

* * * *

Savannah pivoted on the balls of her feet and pushed her bag further up on her shoulder. Weaving around passersby, she concentrated on covering ground. The sun dimmed in the late afternoon sky. Luke would be awake at any moment if he wasn’t already. How had she gotten so lost? Served her right for sneaking around. Still, she was a grown woman and free to do what she wanted.

Her heels burned. Even with flats, the blisters on her feet grew irritated from walking. This was Luke’s fault. If he wasn’t such a night owl, she probably wouldn’t have been so anxious to see the sun. No one traveled to Rome to be cooped up inside, no matter how luxuriously decorated an apartment was.

Tucking her arms close, she walked faster. The city sights had given her a much-needed break, but now exhaustion from a restless night and day had caught up to her. She couldn’t get over Monica’s words from last night or Lorenzo’s intrusive stares. What did Monica mean when she’d agreed they were part of some covert group? Luke said he wasn’t an agent but maybe he referred to being a British agent. And of course, the chase from the other night. Luke had known someone chased them, but who? And why?