Crimson Groves (10 page)

“Very jealous,” William agreed. He broke out into one of those annoying, pitchy laughs, slightly hunching over, hand rubbing his belly. “Where have you kept this one hidden, Bronx? There just might be some catfights tonight!”

Bronx elbowed William in the gut, making him step back. His laughter faded as if the volume were being turned down. “Don’t worry, man,” William smarted, “I ain’t flirting with your girl.” Then he looked at me. “Sorry if I offended you, Abby.”

I smiled, unable to think of anything witty to say, so I stayed quiet.

Bronx handed over my drink and apologized for William’s juvenile outburst. I think it bothered him more than me. The two vampires continued to stand near us, so Bronx took my hand and pulled me away. As he led me through the lounge, I heard one of my old favorite songs playing, “Just Like a Man” by Way Out West.

Bronx sat down on a royal blue velvet loveseat, pulling me down next to him. Two vampires sat across from us in red, padded chairs. I learned they were old friends of Bronx’s, Damon and Valentina. We all shook hands.

“Bronx tells me that you’re about a month reborn. Welcome to the new life,” Valentina purred. She smiled, but it looked forced. She was tall and thin, her long legs tucked under a black leather mini-skirt; her shoulder-length red hair was so dark it almost looked black, and she was definitely in her forties when she was turned. Whatever age you are when you’re “transformed” into our kind is just how old you’ll look for the rest of eternity. No way to steal any youth back. Fortunately, there was no more aging either.

“Thanks. There’s been so much to learn and so many new experiences.” I took a few sips of my drink.

“Ah, yes. There is so much to learn,” Damon added. With black leather pants with a silver chain dangling from the side pocket, matching leather jacket, and scuffed black boots, he looked like he’d just rode in on a Harley. He wasn’t wearing a shirt under his jacket, and the top of his chest looked like marble: solid, hairless, and glossy. “It’s been so long I had almost forgotten.”

“Abigail has done very well this past month. That is why we are here tonight.” Bronx put his arm around me, fingers pressing into my shoulder.

Valentina’s lips puckered. Her eyebrows squished together, making her crow’s-feet look deeper. Was she going to start pouting next? “Well good for you,” she said, eyes glaring at me. “We are all so very proud of you.” I didn’t have to be a vampire to know she was being a bitch. That’s something a woman can sense easily from other women, whether human, vampire, or anything else. I don’t need any advanced senses to determine that.

“Behave Valentina!” Damon scolded. “You should respect Bronx’s decision to be with Abby.” Apparently Damon had picked up on her bitchy attitude too. Was she being obvious on purpose? She was behaving like a scorned ex-girlfriend with a score to settle. But since Bronx didn’t send out these vibes, I doubted they had ever dated at all.

“Valentina,” Bronx said, instantly getting her full attention. “Abigail is an amazing woman. In time you will see it for yourself. We are here to celebrate. Let us get back to that, shall we?” He pulled me closer to him. Anxiously, I kept sucking at my drink. Then I heard that annoying slurping sound a straw makes on an empty glass.

Turning to Bronx I said, “I’d like to get another drink at the bar.” When he didn’t say anything, I added, “Please.”

He looked away from the other vampires, locking eyes with me. “There is a waitress that should be here any minute.”

That answer wasn’t good enough. I needed to get away from psycho bitch vampire and her man friend. Most of all, I wanted out of Bronx’s embrace. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Please. The bar is close by and it’d be nice to just walk around a little more. I’ll be in your sight the entire time.”

He took a moment to answer me. “All right, but stay where I can see you. I will come get you shortly.”

“Thanks.”

I got up and dashed away without looking back. I felt Valentina’s eyes all over me—it was like wearing dirty clothes and you can’t wait to take them off. I almost asked her if she wanted to take a picture since they last longer. But thankfully, I kept my mouth shut. I just didn’t need any more drama right now.

I felt much better at the bar. Relief lifted off my shoulders like I was getting a good spot during a shoulder press. Before I could order my drink, I felt two warm hands cover my eyes. A hushed voice spoke from behind me, warm breath on my ears. “Guess who?”

I jolted around, excited. Lily hugged me and then Adam shook my hand. “I’m so glad to see you guys,” I said while making room for Lily to squeeze in beside me at the bar.

“I’ll see you girls later,” Adam said. “I’ve got to go meet someone.”

“See ya later, alligator,” Lily replied and then turned her attention to me. “So how are you holding up out here in the real world? Is it different than you thought?”

“Yes it is. I’m so nervous around the other vamp—”

Her hand rushed to my mouth, fingers pressing hard, cautious. “Shhh,” she said, voice soft and low. “Be careful how loud you say that, it’s a privacy thing at most clubs like this.” She leaned a little closer, her lips close to my ear. “Don’t worry about the other ones like you in here. They’re all pretty nice—for the most part, anyway. Let me buy you a drink. It’ll help take the edge off.”

I can’t talk about vampires at a vampire nightclub? Figuring there were more details to unfold, I accepted her gracious offer, and as soon as our drinks arrived, we cheered to the night’s events. It was, after all, my first time out in public as a vampire, and I did look smoking hot in this baby doll dress. Lily looked pretty hot too. She wore a stretchy navy tank dress, tan, knee-high boots, and a French braid pulled back her hair, loose strands framing her face.

I glanced back toward Bronx. Valentina moved over to sit beside him and the three of them seemed enthralled in whatever they were talking about. It encouraged me to ask Lily more questions. “There are a lot of humans in here that don’t know about vamp—I mean us?” I said it like a question, voice barely a whisper.

She nodded, eyes wary.

“I thought this club was a blood donor hot spot.” My lips fumbled for the straw in my drink.

“Abby, most of these clubs rely on humans for a lot of their business profits. They can’t just shut them out because of that, so they designed these places for us to secretly coexist. Only “your kind” and the donors know about the back rooms where the feedings take place. There is heavy security throughout the club, mostly “your kind” since they can sense the difference between a donor and just a normal person. We never discuss anything about “your kind” or what we do with them unless it’s someone we know. If anyone is ever caught slipping on this, you never see him or her again. None of us ever dare to risk it.”

“That makes sense. Thanks for telling me. Bronx sort of forgot to mention that.” Not that he needed to. He wouldn’t give me a chance to talk to anyone that he didn’t approve of, let alone some innocent human.

We sat in silence a few short minutes, smiling, people watching, and drinking our drinks. Then I saw Bronx get up and head my way. Oh great. Here he comes to ruin my night.

I flashed him a smile as he approached, hoping it would be a good move on my part. He smiled back and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the barstool. “It is time for you to come with me.” His gaze locked on me. It felt like he was trying to use persuasion on me, warm invisible claws prying at my mind, but that feeling quickly passed as I stood up.

I said, “Let me just say goodbye to Lily.” Then I looked over at her with desperate eyes and leaned down to hug her. “See ya later.”

Bronx yanked my arm, pulling me away.

Gee, how freaking rude. He couldn’t wait two minutes for me to say goodbye to Lily? Even worse, he never acknowledged that she was there. She must have felt horrible. I decided to keep my thoughts to myself on this, storing them in the back of my mind. It seemed like Bronx was easy to provoke, and that was the absolute last thing I wanted to do here at the club.

Bronx led me around the lounge area. Valentina was sitting back next to Damon. She glared at me as we passed. We came to a narrow hallway. A security guard stood blocking it: dark skin, a little shorter than Bronx, stocky build. His black tee barely stretched around his muscles. He’d definitely been no stranger to the gym before he was made a vampire.

He must’ve recognized Bronx because he let us pass without speaking a single word. Bronx led me a little farther down and then we turned into another hallway. Doors lined the walls, four on each side. We took the last door on the right. The room was big enough to hold two modern-looking black couches, a couple matching chairs, a few end tables, and two male blood donors. They were sitting on one of the couches. Blood-colored shag carpet covered the floor; pictures of the Renaissance era with thick gaudy frames hung on the black lacquer walls.

Bronx waved an arm toward the empty couch. I listened like a good little girl and sat down. A bottle of champagne was set in an iced wine bucket on the nearest end table. He grabbed the bubbly, a couple glasses, and then sat down next to me. The donors stared at us quietly as Bronx poured our drinks. “To us, and of course, your first night out,” he said as he handed me an overfilled glass, fizzy white bubbles trickling down the side of it.

“Thanks.” Our glasses clicked and then I chugged it down.

Bronx gave me a refill. “After we finish our champagne,” he said, looking at me, then shifting his eyes toward the men across the table, “we will feed on these donors. You can choose which one you would like to be your first public donor.” Bronx and both of the donors flashed smiles at me. All three of them seemed eager to get on with it. No reason to keep any of them waiting.

I let my nose decide which donor I wanted. The guy on the right had a clean, soapy-fresh scent. I got up and sat down beside him. He was slightly overweight, brunette, with thick eyebrows and dressed in black slacks and an egg-colored polo. “I want this one,” I said.

In the blink of an eye Bronx was sitting next to the other donor; the four of us barely fit on the same couch. He smiled and then turned toward his donor. He was so quick to eat and never really made small talk with any of them. I, on the other hand, wanted to at least know my donor’s name. “Hi, I’m Abby Tate.” I reached out my hand.

Looking very confused he shook my hand and replied, “I’m, uh, D-Da-David.”

“Don’t be afraid, David. I just wanted to get to know you a little before biting you. It may seem strange to you, but I’m new at this.”

“You’re a, uh, a new vampire?” His eyes lit up and I felt a wave of excitement flow through him.

“Yup. One month old today.”

“Wow, uh, I, uh, never, I never had a new one before.”

Smiling at him I playfully responded, “Well, David, you’re about to have yourself a new one. Is it okay if I go ahead and begin?”

Leaning closer, begging me with his eyes, David replied, “Puh, please go uh, a-ahead.”

“Your wish is my command.” I grabbed his head, tilted it to the side, and bit down into his neck. This donor was quiet but the vibrations in his body spoke volumes. I drank my fill, sealed the wound, and then laid him back onto the couch. In a flash I was on the other couch. I wasn’t alone for long. Bronx was next to me. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me.

“Abigail, enough of the games,” he said. “I need you. Now, more than ever.”

And that’s when I really knew he was using it: persuasion. He was without a doubt trying to use it on me, its sharp claws scraping at the edge of my mind like nails down a chalkboard. My arms started shaking; my mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow right. Anger rushed up my spine like an army of ants.
He’s not getting in! I won’t let him in! It’s my mind!
My world was moving—like the room has a pulse, beating, thumping. But then it all stopped. The room got still, my body relaxed. I was still me. Bronx never got inside. I wasn’t sure what to do. No one had ever been able to resist Bronx’s persuasion. I didn’t have any more time to ponder this. I needed to act or Bronx would know his ability was useless on me.

Digging deep inside, I leaned forward and hugged him. He grabbed me by my hair, yanked my head back, and started kissing me—hard, sloppy, and desperate.

I grew nauseous. The act was over.

I tried to push Bronx off me but he wouldn’t budge, his sloppy tongue moving all over my mouth like a drive-thru carwash. My skin crawled with tension, my stomach twisting and turning like an ice-cream maker. He still held the hair on the back of my head with one hand, while the other grabbed the exposed part of my thigh and started moving up. Up beyond the fabric of my dress, and it just kept slowly moving. I tried with all the strength I could muster to push him off, to no avail. With no other options, I screamed, “Stop it, you’re hurting me, stop it, stop it now!”

But he didn’t stop. His fingers reached the outer edge of the boy shorts that I wore under my baby doll dress. I just kept punching him and screaming for him to stop. The donors were out cold, enjoying their euphoria. There was no way they could help me even if I could wake them up.

Bronx was too strong. He could take all three of us. His fingers crept under the elastic edge of my boy shorts. Desperation fell over me in a heavy wave. I punched him in the back of the head, frantically screaming, “Please, Bronx, stop! Please don’t do this!”