Endless Night (7 page)

Allowing myself to relax and enjoy the situation, I leaned against the cushioned back of the low-profile couch. My eyes closed lazily and my mind began to take in the music thumping in my ears. Low bellowing drum beats as there had been when the girls made their descent from the ceiling, but now there were other instruments
added and a woman’s soprano vocals. The small amount of alcohol I’d consumed found a home in my stomach, making it warm with its fiery liquid. I opened my curious eyes and focused on the crowd below. Specifically the girls dangling precariously from the steel rafters on those fancy drapes. Each stretched and curled their strong limbs around the silky fabric. Legs, arms, winding and curling their way up, up, up. Then, without the slightest hesitation, they fell. Legs wrapped intricately around the cloth. The synchronization was intermittent, but I wondered if that was also choreographed.

I’d been inside the building for
just under twenty minutes and I was already sucked into the romance of it all. I noticed then how easy it must be to attract newbies. I, as a strong-willed adult, knew this was not the lifestyle for me and I had no intention of carrying on the façade beyond this extreme weekend. But, if I were some lonely neglected teenager, this moment would be the moment I accepted this as my new life. Luckily for me, I was not lonely, or neglected, or a teenager. Well, I wasn’t a teenager.

The skinny waitress returned with a tray full of clear shot
glasses filled with thick red liquid. Hesitant, I held one of my shots a foot or so away from my face. On any other day, if someone were to hand me a red-liquid filled glass the first thing on my mind would not have been, hey is this blood? But, when in Rome. Or, Transylvania…

“What?” I asked, taking a sniff of the contents.

“Not what you think it is. What would a vampire party be without bloody good drinks?” Malcolm laughed a full belly laugh. It was the first time I’d ever even seen him smile more than a simple grin. I never noticed his set of fangs before. They were kind of dainty and slightly hidden by his upper lip. It was a little bit of a relief to know he had some kind of human emotion, but the relief was halted when I caught a glimpse of those pointy things in his mouth. Primus or not, Malcolm did not seem the type to indulge in the dramatics of his “culture”. I always saw him as a businessman, not a vampire fashionista.

Everyone in my group raised their matching shots in a silent toast. The four of us slung our drinks back and slammed them down damn near simultaneously. I laughed at the action and the others followed. Tatum’s laugh was a refreshing sound I hadn’t had the pleasure of in quite
a while. Not saying she didn’t laugh, just that she and I hadn’t laughed together in for some time and I missed that. I missed her. It didn’t matter what I said to her.

I figured then that I might as well forget trying to control the events of the weekend and just go with it. I told myself I’d learn more about this culture by being
a part of it than observing it from the outside. Maybe I could even start to understand the odd relationship Tatum had going with Malcolm. Or not. Either way, short of boarding the next flight home, this was my life for the next few days. I figured I may as well make the best of it. Besides, Tatum had Malcolm, I might as well have Cyrus. Even if just for the weekend.

Oh hell, I guess so.

Alright, I was very much in the mood to have fun and the environment warranted specifically that. So I decided to let my bitch slide for the evening, sue me.

“How ‘bout those fangs?” I smiled slyly.

“Are you ready then?” Cyrus smiled and his pearly whites glimmered in the dim light.

“As long as I can take them out in the morning…what the hell.”

“Thank God,” he let out a relieved exhale.

“What?”

“I was terrified you were about to say YOLO.” This was said in utmost seriousness.

I laughed as hard and as loud as was unattractive. Stopping
just before a fart slipped out, I let out a heavy sigh of suspended laughter. “I don’t think anything could have appeared odder than watching a big tough vampire boy use the phrase YOLO. Not to mention how incredibly endearing it is that you were relieved I didn’t say it. Trust me, sitting in the VIP section of the plastic fang club is neither the time nor the place for a You Only Live Once moment. They might prove me wrong.” Laughter started again, but stopped when I saw the look on Cyrus’s face. A light smirk lingered on my warm and tingly cheeks. The alcohol was beginning to sink in to each cell of my body. A thought ran through my head and I worried maybe the drinks were spiked as they had been at Embrace.

“I’m not a vampire boy,” his expression told me he was dead serious.

“Well then, what else would you call the Secondus of the House of Malcolm’s bitch?” I was starting to feel a bit snotty.

“House of Cailleadh. And just because I’m
Secondus does not make me the same as those…people,” his eyes shot toward the dance floor below with disdain.

“Then why do you do it?” I asked, taking the chance to look him dead in the eye.

His gaze shifted to look at Malcolm sitting to his left on the rounded couch. I continued to watch him, trying to decipher his body language. It was obvious he was checking on Malcolm, but he gave nothing else away. After a few long moments of silence, I let it go. I assumed he wouldn’t talk with Malcolm so close, and though Malcolm was stuck up Tatum’s ass, it appeared as though Cyrus was afraid he might overhear. I could care less who heard what, but then again, I wasn’t stuck with the guy day in and day out. Or was that night in and night out?

“Fine. I need a drink,” I said, short and to the point. I crossed one leg over the other and let my back relax into the soft cushion.

Cyrus lifted his hand and waved his fingers around at someone I didn’t really see at the stair-end of the long loft area. Kind of annoyed, with Malcolm, again, for no obvious reason other than his presence, I chose to ignore the crew and stare at the crowd writhing on the dance floor below. Each in their own getup, sporting their own rendition of what a vampy looked like, looking like they’d just entered heaven. Or wherever little vampire kids dream of being. Oh, New Orleans, I guessed. Makes sense.

“You promised dancing,” I said to Cyrus without taking my eyes off the lower level.

“Would that make you happy?” his hand grazed mine and the heat made me jump.

An inner ironic snicker ran through my thoughts, for a little vampire boy, he sure was warm. “Does it really matter to you what makes me happy?” I let the snicker slide from my lips.

“Actually, yes,” he said like it surprised him a bit too. “You intrigue me, Dylan Hart. You are unlike any other girl I’ve met in my life.”

“Thanks. But I’ve heard that before. And trust me, it’ll pass. Eventually you’ll realize it’s really not that fun. Soon enough you’ll see. I’m a novelty, honey. You’ll love to play with me for a short time, then you’ll realize how much I am
not
what you’re looking for.” I never took my eyes off the floor below as I recited this spiel as I had so many times before. So far, the only person who ignored it with vigor was Mike. Even then, it didn’t work out.

“We’ll see.” His resolve seemed strong, but I didn’t buy it. He was pretty enough and sweet when he wanted to be, but a relationship with Dylan Hart was a long row to hoe and I’d just as soon not put anyone through that torture. Besides, I
just wanted to sleep with him.

The pretty girl with the fucked up makeup was back and standing, so exquisitely in front of me. She carried her silver tray with a multitude of glasses perched atop the shiny thing. Expecting her to hand me one drink, I held my hand out, but instead she sat the entire tray on the small circular table situated in the center of our group. She had brought us, four people,
twelve enticing alcoholic beverages. A few seemed a bit odd in color and texture, but I figured they were part of the experience. YOLO. Oh, fuck no, just kidding.

Malcolm reached his pale hand out and snagged one of the interesting glasses as I was about to grab it. He handed it to Tatum and grabbed another for himself before I had a chance to choose one. I vowed to myself to make a serious attempt at kicking that man square in the nuts before the weekend was over. Just because. The glasses were of the tumbler variety and thus likely a mixed drink of some kind. Not really my style anyway. As if reading my mind, for the millionth time in recent history, Cyrus nabbed one of the tall shot glasses filled with a sickly intoxicating substance, and handed it to me. Taking one for himself, he lifted it to toast.

“Are we toasting to something?” my brows squished together with questioning.

“Yes. A toast to…connection,” he tilted his glass to his lips.

“What?” I responded with a stupid tone to my voice.

“Connection. We rarely have had the chance for much contact and I’d like that to change.”

“Like, you’re gonna send me a friend request on Facebook? I’m not really following along here.” I felt a little awkward not knowing what the fuck he was talking about.

He smiled sweetly, “No, darling, a connection, the type of contact you have outside the internet. Such as eye contact.” His brows rose indicating he noticed my general lack of meeting his eyes. I had a good reason dammit. His eyes made it hard for me to focus on, well, anything. And that
wasn’t a power I wanted to give over to anyone. “Such as physical contact,” his heavy hand ran across my forearm and I held my breath.

I worried I was becoming soft. I worried his charms would win me over. I worried I’d get drunk and sleep with him and it’d be horrible. I really worried my arms were too hairy. He laughed a little and I let the breath out.

Dylan
, I told myself, I called myself by name,
Dylan
, I said,
get your shit in check. Get it in check or this little vampire boy is going to run right over you. Maybe he’ll be naked when he does it.
A smirk snuck in and I decided I was not a good person to talk to at that point. Not a good advice giver. Nope.

I looked to Tatum and promptly looked away. Her idiot vampire boy had his ginger kid face buried in her neck. I told myself he was just hooking her up with a disgusting hickey and left it at that. I hated to think of her allowing that freak to sink teeth in and draw blood. I remembered when she had cut me open and licked blood from the wound in a vamp den in Fresno. It made my stomach churn a bit. All was fine and good until someone drew blood…and drank it.

“A dance?” Cyrus broke my thoughts at just the right moment. Just before I allowed my head to take over and tell me what a stupid mistake I was making being involved in this bloody mess.

“You got it kid,” I stood on wobbly legs and waited a moment for them to settle. The first few steps after a good round of drinks kind of reminded me of a baby calf minutes after birth.

Cyrus led me by the hand down the length of the loft and toward the burly man at the head of the stairs. The man gave a nod and a wink, but surprisingly enough it was not aimed at the man in the lead. It was intended for me. I smiled back, acknowledging I understood his innuendo, and planned on getting very drunk and very naked and was damn proud of it.

Hand in hand, the two of us, alone for the first time in quite a few months, weaved through the droves of winged and masked vampire people flailing and writhing along the checkered floor. The girls on the drapes had gone away leaving their long silky strands alone to dangle in sporadic intervals throughout the space. Cyrus pulled me through the crowd, allowing the long white drapes to slide over his head and shoulders, falling across my face and tickling along my bare skin. Lights flashed and pulsated in color. Sweat and blood filled the air. People touched along my body as I passed them, each sensation new and intriguing. I smiled wildly on my journey across the dance floor, enjoying the experience more thoroughly than I should have. For a girl who didn’t want to get on that plane in the first place, I sure as fuck was glad I had. At that moment anyway.

Cyrus stopped and turned to face me; his façade more open than I’d ever seen it. Striking green eyes peered from behind his black leather mask. Away from Malcolm, comfortable with his newly found confidante, and likely a little intoxicated, Cyrus was suddenly so accessible. Appeared as though he was an actual person, unlike the perfect shell of a human I’d always assumed him to be.

I tried to be as smooth as I possibly could. I let the music fill my head with its electric beat and allowed my body to do the rest. Not the best plan, but I didn’t really have much else in my repertoire so I went with it. The crowd danced rhythmically with the feminine vocals. We started out a bit apart from each other. My body moved separately from his in mostly an uncoordinated wiggle. After a few moments of that idiocy, he placed his hands on either side of my waist and drew my wiggling body closer to his. I hadn’t had quite enough alcohol to not feel awkward, so I had to fake it. And fake it I did. Cyrus’ rhythm was easy to fall into. His motion brought the music to the forefront in my head. His body made me forget my insecurities, and I began to allow myself to just be. Just be in the moment. Just let shit happen as it may. And it did.

Cyrus pressed the front of his chiseled form against my full chest and I felt my boobs push up and around looking for a place to go. His hands slid smoothly around to my lower back and stayed there. I felt the heat of his breath tickle along the tender skin of my neck and I nearly fell out of my ass. I quickly reminded myself to never allow that long of a
dry spell
to occur again and moved on. Cyrus stood a good head taller than me, but my heels gave me a bit of an advantage and placed his pouty lips within kissing distance from mine. I thought about it more than once as our bodies were pressed so closely together dancing to intentionally sensual music. My heart raced with the idea of kissing that perfect set he held so beautifully on his face. His lips, I meant. The beat thumped on and with it the two of us. I felt the strong muscles that lined Cyrus’s arms, flex and relax as he moved against me. I let my hands trail along the expanse of his thick back and felt the tension there as well. For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to breathe in his luscious scent. He smelled so clean and masculine I wanted to gobble him up. I felt his heart beat accelerate as he breathed heavily in my ear. The action was far from his usual calm and collected demeanor, but it made him more reachable somehow. More human. I knew it was coming. I could feel it. A spark touched my senses and I knew he was making up his mind to grant me a kiss. Cyrus lowered his head to rest his cheek along the curve of my neck.