Crimson Psyche (16 page)

Ankh bowed from the waist. “Good evening, Doctor. The Master said you were expected.” I nodded. He gave Victoria the same bow. “And Victoria, a pleasure as always.”

“Hello, Ankh.” Victoria smiled. “It’s lovely to see you. You’ve got quite a crowd here tonight. Do you think we’ll have any luck finding a place to sit?”

He nodded. “The Master reserved a table for Dr. Knight. I’ll just call someone to escort you.” He raised an arm into the air, signaling an invisible helper.

“That’s okay, Ankh.” I grasped Victoria’s hand and pulled her behind me as I headed for the throng. “We’ll just dive in and take our chances. Thanks.”

Victoria gasped and tried to free her hand from my grip, but she couldn’t and I enjoyed the powerful sensation of towing her through the crowd. My ever-increasing new physical strength was exciting.

I navigated us to the long, sarcophagus-shaped bar ensconced along one wall of the spacious room. All the stools were occupied. I’d just started thinking about the most fun way to clear off a couple when a woman with neon-orange hair smiled in my direction, exposing tiny fangs. She slid off her stool, pulled her raven-haired companion from her perch and pointed at the empty seats. She shouted over the music, “Please. Take our chairs. Tell the Master we were happy to help you out. My name is Dark Widow and this is Rain. Tell him we’re at his service.” They giggled and darted off into the crowd.

Devereux always managed to surround himself with female devotees who were willing to do just about anything to be in his vicinity. I guess I couldn’t blame him for taking what was offered. No doubt he wanted me to become his groupie, too. Well, the Master was in for a big disappointment. But if his handmaidens wanted to kiss some Master ass by sucking up to his significant other, that was fine with me.

Victoria had been silent during our trip through the club. She’d even stopped resisting and trying to break free. Now she watched the stool swap, her lips pursed. I climbed up onto my seat, not bothering to tug the short skirt down, and patted her chair. Victoria situated herself, a very serious expression on her face, and leaned in, speaking directly into my ear because of the noise. “Kismet, has anything unusual happened? Have you had contact with anyone... dangerous?”

I didn’t want to spend any more time talking about such a boring subject so I chose to ignore her questions. Instead, I pinched the fabric of her shimmering black and gold goddess gown between my finger and thumb. “Sweet. I didn’t notice before. That’s an incredible dress you’re wearing. Are you meeting some mysterious stranger here at the club tonight?”

She frowned, no doubt understanding my distracting maneuver. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am meeting someone, but now I think I ought to stay with you. Something’s not right.”

“No way, my witchy friend. I’m not letting you play mother hen with me when you could be kicking up your heels with Mr. Right. Or Mr. Right Now.” I laughed, and signaled the bartender. “I want to hear all the details tomorrow.”

“Really, Kismet,” Victoria sighed, meeting my gaze, “I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but you’re not yourself. I mean,
literally
— your aura is completely different, as if you’re actually someone else. Have you been in touch with Hallow? Has he done something to you?”

I shook my head and grinned. “Not that I know of, but anything can happen.”

“What can I get for you?

I revolved toward the smooth voice and smiled. My evening had just gotten a lot more interesting. “Wow. You look just like—”

“Yeah,” he said, “I know: Johnny Depp. But trust me, I’m much older.” He smiled, the tips of fangs glistening in the overhead light.

I leaned forward, bringing my knees up onto the stool so I could get a better view. “Hmm. What can you get for me? Let me think.” I slid my hand on top of his and tapped my fingernail on his cool skin. “When’s your next break?”

“Kismet,” Victoria interrupted, “I don’t think Devereux would like you distracting his employees. You wouldn’t want to get Nigel in trouble, would you?” She wrapped her fingers around my arm, as if she worried I’d fall.

I kept my gaze on the eye-candy in front of me. “Would you
like
to get into some trouble, Nigel? We could just sneak away for a few minutes and discuss the issue.”

He laughed. “Trouble I could deal with, but if I laid one finger on Devereux’s woman, he’d rip my heart out of my chest before I even thought about unzipping my pants. I think that’s a little too much danger for this vampire. I’m a mellow bloodsucker. Besides, I’m happy here. I don’t want to mess things up. So, what else can I get you, besides me?”

I pouted, and he laughed again. Thanks to my unexpected new muscles, I could probably drag him from behind the bar, find a cozy hideaway and indulge myself for a few minutes, but they were right. Maybe he wasn’t the best candidate, but damn, he was gorgeous.

“Okay.” I smiled. “If I can’t have you, I guess I’ll have a couple shots of tequila.” I asked Victoria, “What do you want?”

“I’d like a glass of red wine, please, Nigel.”

“Coming right up.” He trotted off to fetch our order. The view was arousing.

“Victoria?” said a male voice from behind me.

Intrigued, I angled my head to check out the owner of the warm, appealing sound. A tall, distinguished man wearing a dark suit, red shirt, and grey tie stood behind me. My ass was still swaying in the air from my attempt to crawl across the bar, so I plopped it down onto my heels.

“Winston.” Victoria’s face lit up. “It’s so good to see you. Let me introduce my friend, Dr. Kismet Knight.”

He bowed his head, and smiled. Fangs. His dark eyes twinkled. “I have heard of you, Dr. Knight. It’s lovely to meet you in person.”

I sat properly on my stool and gave him a friendly smile. Anyone who could animate Victoria’s face like that was aces in my book. His shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair made him look somewhere between forty and fifty. I hadn’t met a vampire that old before — not that forty-something was old, but most vampires were brought over sooner. I wondered what his story was.

Nigel brought our drinks, winked at me and bolted away. He must have seen the gleam I was sure I had in my eyes.

I slammed the tequila shots, one after the other. “Wow. Those were tasty. I think I’ll get a couple more. You two go on and find a romantic corner.” I saw Victoria’s smile slide into a frown and patted her arm. “Honest. I’m just letting off some steam. I’ll go find the lord and master shortly, but before that, I want to dance! It’s been ages since I let my Inner Wild Woman out.”

Victoria gave Winston a pained smile, as if she was trying to telepathically communicate something she didn’t want to share with me. “I think we should invite Kismet to sit with us while she waits for Devereux to arrive, don’t you, Winston?”

“Certainly.” He smiled, oozing charm. “What man wouldn’t be pleased to have a beautiful woman on each arm?” He extended both elbows, either waiting for us to grab on or preparing to flap his arms in a chicken imitation. I laughed, and he cocked his head, a confused expression flowing across his handsome features.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I have a weird sense of humor. Seriously. I don’t want to go and sit with you until my owner comes to fetch me. I want to have some fun. So run along.”

They both stared at me, so I added emphasis. “
Really
.”

Winston bowed, put his arm around Victoria and guided her across the room. She glanced back once, her face an unhappy mask.

I climbed back up on my knees, plopped my chest on the bar, and hollered, “Nigel! More alcohol, please!”

He ambled over. “Do you want another tequila shot?”

I licked my lips. “I’d say you read my mind, but I know you can’t.”

He smiled as he poured the potent liquid into my glass. “It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that you’ll probably find the trouble you’re seeking. I heard that a certain ancient vampire hunter is in town and he’s taken a fancy to you. If you’d heed a word of advice, I think you should be more careful than usual. Something evil is percolating, if you know what I mean. If even half the legends about Hallow are true, he’s a deranged vampire. You’d do well to stay out of his path.”

I reached over and stroked his pale cheek, giving him my brightest smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to duck out for a few minutes?”

Nigel gently removed my hand from his face. “Dr. Knight, because I know how crazy Devereux is about you, I wish you’d take my warning seriously. Hallow has come to kill someone. If the rumors are right, it might be someone close to Devereux. I’d suspect it was you if you were a vampire, but the situation is ominous. Why don’t I send someone downstairs to find Devereux for you?” He stared into my eyes, making a valiant effort to entrance me. “You really don’t want to dance tonight. You want to be a good little human and stay out of trouble.”

“Woot! That was awesome, Nigel.” He backed up, clearly surprised. “Ineffective, but awesome. I’m not that easy to enthrall, but I do appreciate your concern. I’ll tell Devereux what a darling you are.”

I downed the shot, jumped off the stool and waved good-bye to Nigel over my shoulder. Then, heeding the call of nature, I headed to the bathroom.

The crowd was thick and uncooperative as I elbowed my way through.

“Hey! Watch out, asshole!” yelled one of the women whose drinks I jostled.

I raised my middle finger as I pushed past and kept it aloft as I encountered other unhappy people needing to be shoved aside. The shock on their faces made me feel good, powerful.

“Look out, world, I’m full of vampire blood!” I pushed the bathroom door with my hip and barged inside. The tequila on top of the pot had given me a nice buzz. “Make way!” I bypassed the line of women waiting for a stall and jumped into a newly vacated one.

“Yo, bitch!” A hand grabbed my wrist before the cubicle door could close. “Don’t you see this line? Get your ass to the end of it and wait your turn like everybody else.”

I easily tugged free of the Mohawk-haired tattooed woman’s grip. “Oh, yeah? Who’s gonna make me?” This was going to be fun.

Her lips spread in an evil smile, exposing a wide gap in the front where two teeth should have been. The surrounding dentistry featured various shades of brown and yellow. Her massive breasts spilled over the top and flowed out the armholes of a too-tight Harley Davidson leather vest. “You’re lookin’ at her, whore.” She poked out her chest and stood up straight, gaining a couple of inches in height.

A collective gasp filled the room, and all the women waiting in line took quick steps toward the wall.

“Oh, shit — go and get a waitress, Candy,” one spectator said to the woman next to her. “Jenna’s gonna wipe the floor with this skinny bitch.”

A tiny woman with curly blue hair darted out the door.

“Yeah, go and get someone to save this cunt’s life because I’m about to stomp her brainless,” Jenna said, and reached toward me. She looked like someone who’d had some practice at what she threatened — all the better.

“Bring it on, cow,” I yelled, and shoved her back from the door.

She obviously hadn’t expected me to have any muscle, because she wasn’t prepared for the force of the push. She stumbled backward, unable to recover her balance, and went down hard on her ass with a thud. I laughed at the sound.

The last things I remember before I jumped on her and started punching were the gasps that filled the room and the big woman’s startled expression. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open as she raised her hands in defense.

I lost track of time, then suddenly people were pulling at me, trying to lift me off the unmoving biker. I rose to my feet and stood over Jenna, my hair barely ruffled, not even breathing hard, and glanced at the blood on my knuckles.

A waitress charged into the room and bounced her gaze between the woman on the floor and me. “What the hell happened?”

“She cut in line and Jenna was gonna set her straight,” a tall, emaciated woman said, pointing at me. “But she beat the crap out of Jenna.”

Everybody stared down at Jenna, who was unconscious. She had a bloody nose and bruised eyes that would be swollen shut very soon. Her lips were split in several places and she’d lost another tooth. The buttons on her vest had gone missing, and her breasts had taken advantage of the breathing room to run amok.

The waitress studied me, her eyes narrowed. “Holy shit. It’s you. Devereux’s girlfriend. No. Fuckin’. Way.” She pressed her hands to the sides of her head. “He’s going to go apeshit when he finds out that someone tried to hurt you. You’re supposed to be guarded at all times — you’re no match for someone like her. Or so we thought. Are you hurt?”

Everyone was watching me, waiting for me to speak.

“Hell no, I’m not hurt. She shouldn’t have tried to fuck with me,” I said calmly, expressing what I thought was merely logic. “I had to pee and she got in my way.” Silence continued as I swung around and walked back into the stall and shut the door. I peed, then came out. The crowd parted as I strode to one of the sinks to wash my bloody hands.

Turning to grab some paper towels, I scanned all the open-mouthed faces around me. “I’m going to go dance now. See ya. Thanks for the good time.”

I ambled back into the main club, which was even more packed than before I went to the bathroom.

The band was playing an upbeat, heavy-rock number and I stood on the edge of the dance floor, jiggling in place. My stiletto heels gave me the height I needed to see over the heads of the crowd, which made it much easier to search the area for potential dance partners. Lyrics from an old song my father loved — something about a stranger across a crowded room — popped into my mind as I laid eyes on a dark-haired cover boy strolling in my direction.

My face wasn’t big enough to hold the smile that spread across my lips. Oh, yeah. Things were definitely improving.

“Hey, pretty lady. I was just standing over there, thinking I’d like to find someone soft and curvy to dance with, and there you were. We must’ve been destined to meet, wouldn’t you say?” He spoke with a subtle western twang.

I just couldn’t stop smiling. The sweet young thing probably wasn’t even twenty-one. I wondered how he’d gotten past Ankh. The band had paused long enough for the musicians to down a number of beers before launching into the next tune, so I was able to hear my new companion without any need for him to yell.

“My, my. Aren’t you adorable?” I trailed a fingernail down the front of his shirt. In my stilettos, I was almost six feet tall, but my sumptuous companion wasn’t at all intimidated by my Wonder Woman stance. His cowboy boots had heels that elevated him a couple of inches over me. “What’s your name, handsome?”

His jeans and black T-shirt perfectly showcased his slender, toned body. The yummy stranger ran his fingers through a mass of dark, shoulder-length hair. Warm brown eyes gazed soulfully from beneath thick lashes. I was certain there had to be a Stetson on the front seat of his truck. He grinned. Fangless. “I’m Trevor, Trey to my friends.” He offered his hand for me to shake.

What a delicious morsel. I clasped his warm hand and held on, pulling him closer. “Well, Trey. I don’t know if you’ve got a thing for older women because of unresolved mother issues or if you just want to play with fire, but I’m ready.”

The drummer counted time, raised his drumsticks over his head, and the first chords of a classic Eric Clapton tune split the air.

I tugged Trey toward the dance floor. He registered surprise at my strength, but quickly boogied into the spirit of things. We elbowed our way through the fray, moving to the powerful rhythm. I could tell he was a natural — watching his slim hips undulate was a treat for the eyes. And the libido.

We rocked to the driving beat, and by the time the song ended, the temperature in the club had spiked into the tropical range. We grabbed onto each other, laughing, and I slid my hands down his shoulders, appreciating the fine muscle tone. He leaned back and grinned, shifting his gaze down to my breasts. The expression on his face made it clear he believed all his most orgasmic dreams were about to come true.

I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted to slip away with the luscious lad or not, but I was enjoying his hard body next to mine. He bent forward and kissed me on the lips. He smelled like fresh young male, and I had a quick fantasy about licking my way down his muscled frame.

The band began playing a slow song and when Trey pulled me in close, his erection pressed against my stomach. He tilted his head, aiming his lips in my direction, when an arm snaked around my waist from behind and tugged me backward, lifting me a couple of inches off the floor.

“Hey! What the—?”

I didn’t need the distinctive medallion to recognize the contours of the chest I was pinned against. Trey’s eyes went glassy and his mouth slowly sagged open.

A velvet voice cut through the music. “Thank you for entertaining my fiancée, my friend. I was delayed in arriving, so it was most kind of you to make sure she enjoyed herself. Here.” Devereux shifted me to his hip as if I were an unruly toddler and handed Trey several business-card-size pieces of paper. “Complimentary drinks for you and a guest, for the rest of the night.
Go now
.”

Trey shook his head vigorously, gave a blank stare and shuffled off the dance floor.

“You can put me down now, Mr. Party Pooper,” I said, pouting.

He released me. “Pooper?”

I pivoted, prepared to give him hell for ruining my high school fantasy, but found myself smiling instead as my hormones shouted, “Yippee!” What a gorgeous hunk of manhood he was: a platinum-haired, high-fashion leather-clad god. My hands caressed his chest, sliding along the soft fabric of his ice-blue silk T-shirt. “Never mind about pooper. Dance with me.”

He studied my face, his expression serious. “Something is very wrong.”

“Oh, come on, Blondie.” I reached up and clasped my hands behind his neck, molding my body to his. “Stop whining and dance.”

He wrapped me in his arms and began swaying to the music. After a few seconds, I felt a tingling over my scalp and I leaned back far enough to meet his eyes. “Are you doing something? My head feels funny.” I stumbled and he had to tighten his hold to keep me on my feet.

“No, it is not me. The Slayer has somehow penetrated your protections.”

I blinked a few times, trying to dissipate the woozy disorientation, and laughed. “Here I am, all dressed up just for you, and you’re talking about some other guy penetrating me.” I threaded my fingers through the long, soft strands of his hair. “What’s it going to take to get you in a romantic mood?”

The music stopped and Devereux frowned. “Come.” He gently released my arms from around his neck, grabbed my hand and hustled me through the crowd, which parted for him like the Red Sea did for Moses. We hurried to the door leading down to the lower level of the club. John the vampire addict, whose job it was to keep humans away from the secret portions of the building, opened the heavy door for us and we stepped inside. But instead of making our way down the steep stairs, Devereux encircled my waist with his arm and thought us into his private bedroom.

The large room was more like a combination studio, ritual space and sleeping area than just a bedroom. I had asked him if he really slept there instead of in a coffin, but he’d just smiled without answering. Funny how he was so close-mouthed about anything to do with his own life, but demanded to know every single thing about mine.

The space hadn’t changed since the last time I’d visited. Devereux was an accomplished artist and his paintings filled the walls. One corner of the room was devoted to art supplies, empty canvases and easels holding works-in-progress. He’d hung the portrait of me, supposedly painted eight hundred years earlier, in a prominent place, with special lighting above and below, displayed alongside the portrait of his mother — the dead one who’d shown up in the flesh at a ritual to welcome me to the family.

A long table cluttered with bottles, ornate boxes, candles and New Age paraphernalia dominated the space between the art corner and the bed. A beautiful large amethyst ball sat balanced on a golden pedestal, apparently in readiness for future casting — Devereux was a well-known seer, by all accounts. He’d told me the strange bottles contained herbs and other ingredients for his magic spells and potions. I’d thought he was kidding at first, that all this hocus-pocus was just a silly hobby, but he soon disabused me of that notion. In fact, he’d done a number of things for which I had no rational explanation — not that I had any rational explanation for vampires, either.

He flicked his fingers, igniting candles, and stepped back to stare at me, a sour expression on his face. “I must find a solution to this problem,” he said.

“What problem?”

He ignored me. “If my vampire powers are not sufficient to the task, then I will create a magical resolution.” He started to move away toward the door leading to an outer office. “I must consult my books for an appropriate spell.”

I sprinted in front of him to cut him off. “Wait a minute, Love Buns. I didn’t come down here to sit alone while you indulge yourself in woo-woo research. I have my own agenda. A woman has needs, you know.” I batted my eyelashes and gave what I hoped was a naughty smile. “Let’s go and sit on the bed and talk for a while.”

Pain radiated through my skull, making my legs tremble, and I grabbed the sides of my head. “Ow, dammit, knock it off! You’re giving me a headache. If my brain explodes, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Devereux lifted me effortlessly into his arms. “It is not me, Kismet, truly. Hallow has infiltrated your aura. He must be visiting your dreams in order to create such blockage. I cast a very strong protective spell on your home after I left yesterday so he could not accost you there, and since I told you not to leave, you should have been safe.” He walked over to the bed and deposited me on the multicolored duvet, then sat on the edge and removed his boots before crawling up beside me.

I smiled even wider and scooted over, giving him room to sit next to me. I smoothed my hand along his leather-clad leg, heading north. “That’s more like it. Less talking, more sex.”

He stared at me. “Victoria and Nigel are correct: you are indeed behaving like a hormonal adolescent. I must find a way to counteract Hallow’s influence to keep you safe. This new personality you are exhibiting is mindless and dangerous, just like the one who contaminated you.”

“What new personality?” My fingers reached the zipper of his pants. I’d just started making him much more comfortable when he grabbed my hand and lifted it away from his crotch. “No. We have important matters to discuss. Personal pleasure can wait. Tell me what you remember of the last twenty-four hours.”

I stuck my lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, but when I got no response from my undead judge and jury I said grumpily, “I don’t remember anything.” And then, having said that, I realized the last couple of days
were
rather fuzzy. I had the sense that I
should
remember something, and something important at that, but I just couldn’t bring whatever it was into focus. I could recall the clients I’d seen on Friday, but after that, everything was gone.

Devereux shook my arm. “Kismet? Are you listening to me?”

I started to tell him that I’d been trying to remember something that might be helpful, but different words came out of my mouth. “No. You’ve finally bored me into a coma.” I scrambled onto my knees and climbed on top of him, pushing him flat on the mattress. As I straddled his hips, my short skirt rode up even higher, collecting around my waist and displaying my lack of underwear. I peeled off my transparent shirt and threw it on the floor. “Personal pleasure
can’t
wait.”

I untucked his T-shirt from his pants and shoved the fabric out of the way as I bent to lick his nipples. He wound his fingers into my hair and yanked my head up. “Where is your protective necklace? I instructed Luna to tell you to wear it. Did she fail to convey my message? She will be punished if that is the case.”

He released my hair and I sat up. “You have the most annoying one-track mind. Yes, the she-fiend told me, but I guess I forgot, or maybe I decided I didn’t
want
to wear the damn thing. It
is
up to me, you know. Now, be a good little vampire and let me have my way with you.” I’d never heard him threaten Luna before. Maybe there was something going on that I didn’t know about. But if it meant Evil Vampira would be out of the picture, that definitely worked for me.

Before he could start on the next lecture, I opened his fly, crawled to the foot of the bed and tugged forcefully on the leather until he lifted his ass enough for the pants to slide off freely. He made a squeaky, completely unmaster-vampire sound which I attributed to his surprise at my strength.

I held his leather pants in the air, grinning at my success and appreciating the rigid erection stretching across his abdomen.

He sat up, a wicked smile spreading his lips. “So, you wish to play rough, yes? In that case, I believe I can accommodate you.” Faster than my eyes could track, he grabbed my arms and dragged me up his body, and still holding on, he wrapped his legs tightly around my hips, effectively restraining me. It was my turn to make a noise, but mine was one of pleasure. I certainly liked being trapped this way.

I wiggled against his thick erection. “Lay it on me, Fang Boy.”

He growled and flipped us over. “As you wish,” he murmured as he landed on top of me, his platinum hair covering my face for a couple of seconds before he jerked his head from side to side, flipping the lustrous strands behind him. He’d obviously had a lot of practice with that move, because the hair cooperated. I wondered how many thousands of women he’d had sex with in his long,
long
life, and smiled as I considered the educational possibilities.

It occurred to me that things might be more interesting if I put up a bit of a struggle, so I twisted my body until I was able to free an arm. A shocked expression flashed across his features before he narrowed his eyes, and reclaimed the escaped limb. He pulled both my arms tightly over my head and secured them in one of his large hands.

“Feel free to fight and struggle, my little psychologist. I know it is the maniac’s influence causing this aggression in you, but I can assure you that I am not without experience in this arena. Be very careful what you ask for, my love, for you might receive it.”

I stared up into twin pools of aqua quicksand and fluttered my eyelashes. “I’m counting on it,” I purred.

Wicked-fast, he forced my legs apart. I could feel his erection lying heavy against me and I struggled to lift my hips high enough to put out the welcome mat, but he ignored my invitation. Instead, he grabbed my hair with his free hand and held my head in place, all the time watching me with his entrancing eyes. Then he raised his upper lip, exposing fully extended fangs.

Little moans erupted from my mouth as my body trembled. He smiled and lowered his lips to mine, but instead of the full-on passionate kiss I’d expected, he caught my lip between his teeth and fangs and bit down gently. He groaned as the blood flowed, and the coppery liquid slid across my tongue, driving me wild with need. “Please,” I begged. I wanted him so badly, to touch me, to fill me.

But he didn’t. Instead, he lifted his head, his mouth smeared with my blood, and licked his way down to my breast. He began sucking roughly on my nipple and that sensation was somehow directly connected to the hot, tingling area between my legs. “Oh,
yeah
— that’s what I want,” I groaned and he paused for a second, then sliced his fangs into the tender skin around my nipple and resumed sucking.

I screamed — it was horribly exquisite — and struggled to break free, not because I wanted him to stop, but because I wanted to take matters into my own hands. But even with my newly enhanced strength, I couldn’t budge him. As he drew the blood from the fang holes on either side of my nipple, rushes of ecstasy shimmered through my body. I kept screaming until my throat was raw and my mouth so dry, all I could do was whimper.