Crimson Groves (9 page)

His lips trailed across my cheek. They weren’t touching me, but I could feel their closeness. His eyes burned deeper; anger wasn’t there anymore. It was different—not softer, too bold for that. Desire, lust, and something else, but it didn’t matter. He was going to try to kiss me. My stomach balled into knots. I cringed, swallowed hard, but the lumps stuck in my throat. I jerked my head to the side. He kissed my cheek, slowly, a little suction of his lips to my skin, and then he lifted his head up, looking down at me. He pretended not to notice my resistance, just like all the other times. He squeezed me into his chest. It was pointless to try to get away from him—until, of course, he released me.

A knock on the bedroom door jolted me out of that memory, and I quickly glanced at the clock. It was already nine o’clock at night. I no longer experienced time the way I had when I was human. It went by much faster now. I remembered many nights at The Beacon just watching the clock and wishing my shift was over. That kind of thing didn’t happen anymore—maybe because thinking of time didn’t matter when you had an eternity.

I got up from the chair and opened the door. Bronx was standing there holding a couple of bags. One was from Bloomingdales and the other from a store I’d never heard of, Foresters. Smiling as he handed me the bags he said, “Here are some clothes for you to try on. I will be in the living room, please come model them for me.”

I took the bags and thanked him and then shut the door. Not in a rude way, but I was eager to see what the bags contained. I skipped over to the bed and turned the bags upside down. Everything inside them fell onto the mattress.

Lily was just waking up. Perhaps the rustling bags got her attention. She raised her arms over her head to stretch. In the middle of a yawn, she asked, “What’s all of that?”

“I guess Bronx felt generous and bought me some new clothes. He wants me to model them for him.”

Lily leaned forward and grabbed one of the dresses. After a brief moment of inspecting the fabric, she handed it to me. “Try this one on first. You know he’s crazy about you, and that dress will make him even crazier.”

The dress she handed me was black, cut off just above my knees, and had a halter-shaped top. It was skin-tight, showing off all of my curves. Thank God I still had my curves. When I became a vampire, everything about my looks stayed the same except my eyes and skin color. I am much paler now, and of course, I already told you about my eyes.

There was a pair of black wedge sandals that would match this dress perfectly. Lily must’ve thought the same thing since she was reaching for them.

“Thanks,” I said while grabbing them from her. I put on the wedges, which also fit perfectly, and then headed over to the bathroom. I ran a brush through my hair and then stepped out in front of the full-length mirror, staring at my new appearance. I looked pretty good. Letting Bronx see me like this was going to be challenging. I could barely keep him at bay when I wore jeans and tees. This outfit was definitely going to cause some unwanted attention.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lily said, head tipped slightly to the side. “You look amazing. He’s going to love it!”

“That’s the problem.” I walked back to the bed, my fingers sliding down a length of the sheer curtain. It felt like soft mesh. “He will love it and then he’ll try to kiss me again.”

“And you have a problem with that?”

“Yes. Yes I do. I don’t have romantic feelings for him. I just can’t bear the thought of him trying to kiss me again.”

Her eyebrows squished together, tiny creases cutting across her forehead in deep lines. “I’m not a vampire, but that sounds like a human problem to me. It’s hard to force yourself to feel a certain way. The best thing to do is stay honest with him and don’t try to rush things. He’s really nice, maybe a little scary, but he has always been nice when I’m around. Maybe in a while you’ll start to share his feelings.” She shrugged.

“And if I don’t, then what? I’m kind of stuck here forever.”

Lily’s eyes widened. She definitely didn’t have a come back.

So without even moving, I was back at the mirror again, staring blankly at it.

Although I wanted to tell Lily how horrible Bronx really was and how I would flee from here in a New York second if I got the chance, I couldn’t risk her having that knowledge. Bronx could easily persuade her and find out anything I had shared with her. Some secrets are best kept that way. Actually all of them are.

There was movement in the corner of my eye. Footsteps whispered closer. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. It was Lily. She walked right up to me and threw her arms around me, her body so warm and inviting. Her pulse was even, steady. I returned the embrace. A flush of warmth shot up my neck, inside my head.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “You’re going to be just fine. Plus, you should be extremely excited about tonight. You’re getting out of this house and that should help you feel a lot better.”

I nestled deeper inside the hug, completely speechless.

Lily is a little taller than me by a couple inches or so, and her skin is the color mine used to be: lightly tanned. We wear the same size, which was how I had the extra clothes here. She came twice in the first week after I was turned, the second time bringing me three pairs of jeans and three tee shirts. Thank God for her, since all I had before that was my work uniform.

“Okay. You’re right.” I nodded, pulling out of her arms.

She smiled at me with those beaming brown eyes and then grabbed the brush lying on the vanity in the bathroom. She ran it through my hair one last time.

“Go on now before he comes in here to get you,” she teased.

“Will you stay? I know you must want to get home, but I could really use your company. Just a little while longer.”

“Adam will be here soon. I’d love to stay, but I don’t think it’s such a great idea. But I’ll see you again at Pulse.” She hesitated for a moment, brown eyes still locked on me.

“Okay. I guess that will work.”

The friendship forming between Lily and I was unlike any of my friendships when I was human. It was special and wonderful, and very terrifying. The sting of what Mandy and John did still lingered inside me like a smell that never leaves your nose. And yet with Lily, I’d let most of my guard down, which was something I’d never imagined doing again.

Without lingering another moment, I headed out of the bedroom, holding my non-existent breath as I walked toward the living room. It was showtime.

Bronx admired me from across the room, smile gleaming, tongue dancing over his lips, and eyes sparkling like twin stars. Then he flashed over to me. “You look gorgeous.” He brushed his fingers through my hair.

“Thank you.” I took a step backwards. He grabbed a handful of my hair, jerked me back to him. It stung a little.

“Abigail, Abigail, always trying to get away from me. The day is coming when you will no longer make those efforts.”

Every insult you can imagine built up inside my throat, but I swallowed them back down and just smiled. Several awkward minutes passed by and then he finally let go of my hair. I turned and flashed back to the bedroom. Lily helped me try on the other things while she waited for Adam to pick her up.

A black pencil skirt with a pale pink silk, button-up top—both skin-tight—presented another uncomfortable moment with Bronx. This time he leaned in and kissed my cheek. There was also a baby doll-styled dress. I liked it much better than the last one. It was black with red lace on the chest area. There was a low scooping neckline that looked really sexy. It sat high above my knees, and my work shoes, the black Dr. Marten’s mid-calf boots, looked amazing with it.

And last, there was a dark pair of designer jeans with white stitching detail around the pockets. Those paired nicely with a white V-neck cotton tee. Bronx loved the dresses the most and told me to wear the one I liked best. That was an easy decision for me.

At quarter ’til midnight, I sat alone in the living room wearing the baby doll dress and black boots. Adam had picked Lily up over an hour ago and Bronx was in the bedroom getting ready. I nervously twisted strands of my hair. The anxiety and excitement for the night ahead was overwhelming. I would most likely need to run the brush through my hair again before leaving.

Bronx strolled out from the hallway and made a beeline for the sofa where I was sitting. He wore black jeans and a long-sleeved, black button-up shirt with a red cross-shaped graphic on the back and extra stitching around the pockets on each pectoral. His hair was slicked to the sides and neatly tucked behind his ears. This was the first time I thought he looked nice since he’d turned me.

Because he loved to hear himself talk, he broke the silence and pretty much talked my ear off until we heard a car pull into the driveway. We were both outside in the blink of a human eye, and once I saw the wheels we were riding in, I felt my jaw drop open.

A black stretch hummer limo sprawled out, taking up most of the extended driveway. Holy crap! I’d never ridden in a limo before, let alone a hummer limo. The streetlights provided minimal light, but the limo still glistened in it.

The driver stepped out and greeted us. He was forty-something, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair, a narrow face, and a pointed chin. The black suit he wore fit loosely on his tall, lanky frame. He guided us to the back door, the door you’d see the celebrities exit when heading to a premier event.

Bronx helped me crawl inside and I scooted down a slick leather sofa. Vegas-style neon pink and green lights lined the ceiling and around the dark-tinted windows. Bronx crawled in beside me and popped the top off a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, which conveniently sat in an iced bucket on the mini built in bar directly across from us. It was my favorite champagne.

He offered me a glass, sparkling white bubbles dancing at the top, and toasted to our evening. It was going to be a tough night to have a bad time. Cheers.

7

Pulse

OUR DRIVER PULLED UP TO THE CLUB, which was located on the bottom floor of a huge, three-story, rectangular-shaped building. The name of the club was in red neon script on an oval-shaped black sign dangling below a red awning. A line of people wrapped around the side of the building, waiting to get inside. They gaped at our fancy vehicle as we came to a stop near the entrance. It made me feel nervous, and a little insecure, while I waited for the driver to come retrieve us. He motioned for me to exit first, taking my hand with his long, boney fingers. Once I was completely out of the limo, I felt a chill in the air. Out of habit, I brushed my arms with my hands even though I wasn’t cold. Bronx tipped the driver and took my hand. This obviously wasn’t an optional handholding. When I tried to pull away, his grip just tightened.

Instead of getting in line behind all the other people, we walked straight up to the front. The dirty looks we got from the impatient crowd made me wonder if they’d stone us to death right here.

“Hey Bronx, this must be your new lady friend.” The enormous doorman observed me with small, piggy eyes, moving up and down very slowly. He was a little taller than Bronx, maybe six two, with dark skin, a round pillowy face, and weighed at least three hundred pounds. He was holding a tiny black flashlight with his left hand, and reached out to shake Bronx’s with his right one, forcing Bronx to let go of me. Thank God.

“Abigail, this is G,” Bronx said. “G, this is the lovely Abigail.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said as I shook his hand. His chubby fingers felt squishy.

“Likewise.” G stepped to the side and then hurried us in. Bronx slipped some cash into his awaiting fingers as we passed by.

“Your room’s ready whenever you are,” G called out to us and then turned around to address the next person in line.

My eyes flitted all over, taking in everything I saw as we walked through the club. There were a lot of people already here. Candles and black lights dimly lit the darkened atmosphere. There were a couple bars, a dance floor, and a lounge area with loveseats, chairs, and tables. Royal blue, red, and black were the colors that decorated each zone.

Bronx placed his arm back around me as we made our way to the bar closest to the lounge. The glass countertop revealed black stones and white tea candles underneath. I set my arm on top and leaned down, allowing the bar to support me. A lot of people obviously knew Bronx, and he was talking to a few of them while waiting for his Crown and Coke. He ordered a vodka club soda with a lime for me. Vampires love drinking alcohol. It takes the edge off the blood cravings.

This was my first time seeing vampires aside from Bronx. There were so many of them intermingled with the humans. Their scent was easily discernable—dead, cold, and empty.

I overheard Bronx saying my name. As I looked back his way, a hand stretched out to me. “Hey Abigail, I’m Brennan and this is William.” They were both vampires.

“Nice to meet you both, and please feel free to call me Abby.”

Brennan was about the same height as Bronx and had short blond hair. William was a little shorter and had longer blond hair about down to his shoulders, kind of like a surfer. “No problem, Abby,” Brennan corrected himself. “It’s just so nice to meet the woman that took Bronx off the market. You wouldn’t believe how many women he’s turned down. You’re going to make them all very jealous tonight.”