My eyes trailher as she struts across the room in her leather skirt and cherry red stilettos that match the shade of gloss on her tempting lips. She brushes her ebony hair off her shoulder, and shimmies between two gentlemen seated at the bar. Motioning for the bartender to come closer with her French manicure, she leans forward until her tits are spilling out of her dress and whispers something in his ear. The men to her right and left lean back and openly admire the view of her round ass sticking out the bottom of her black skirt with no thought of repercussion.
Fire ignites in my veins. Not just because of the vile thoughts running through the good as dead men’s minds but because it’s been over a century since I last saw her, and I had no clue she was even alive until our paths crossed tonight.
So much has changed since the last time we parted. Evangeline and Viktor have been missing since Ember played all of us so well. As for Celeste and Talon, the pair have not been on speaking terms since the night I threatened their lives. Alfred, Silas, and Caelum, I sense, are not far away as it appears the slayer has been trained well since the last time our cursed course brought us together.
Esme reaches behind herself and adjusts the hem of her skirt, pulling it down over her mouthwatering backside. The gentlemen at her side groan as their depraved thoughts have them itching to touch, taste, and savor the curves only my hands, my mouth, and my cock will ever come near. The bartender slides Esme a drink and gives her a devilish wink that has me seeing red. She sits down on her stool and smiles as she turns her back to the bar.
I stand by patiently watching from a dark corner across the room. For a brief moment, I could swear our eyes meet before she quickly looks away and brings her drink to her nose. Smelling softly, most would think she’s savoring the aroma of the wine, but as she playfully rolls her eyes, grins, and turns to set the glass back on the bar, it’s apparent she sensed what I already knew.
It’s been tampered with.
Poisoned.
Someone here wants her dead.
No doubt a monster that lurks in the night.
One she’s been trained to defeat.
Question is who?
She turns my way, and studies the dark corner I’ve hidden away in. When her blue eyes catch mine, I slink back into the darkness I’ve grown accustomed to hiding in.
I’ve promised myself the next time she was brought back to life I would watch from afar. Never get close. I can protect her more this way. Watch over her. Ensure her safety and her survival without my feelings for her disrupting our every move.
But as one of the men at her side reaches over and places their hand on her knee, I take a step forward, intent on ripping his arm from his damned body. Before I can make my move, Esme takes one look at the man’s hand and instantly glances in my direction. Worry once again gets the better of me. Fear I’ll mess this up a third time causes me to retreat back into the shadows. She catches a brief glimpse of my retreating form, looks back down at the man’s hand on her bare skin, and slowly turns his way.
Grabbing the lapel of his dinner jacket, she pulls him harshly towards her and whispers something in his ear. Horror flashes across his face seconds before she thrusts him back in his seat. She rises and struts off towards the back of the club. Happy she seems to have more sense than her previous lives, and a fiery attitude I suddenly have the craving to tame, I let her get a few seconds head start before stalking off after her.
As I pass the gentleman who so confidently touched what’s mine, I raise my right hand. Ghostly fingers wrap around his neck as he attempts to take a sip of his beer. The bastard begins to choke. Spewing his drink at his friends, his glass drops to the floor and shatters as I continue past toward where Esme drifted off. Patrons gather as the man grabs his neck and attempts to loosen my phantom grip.
It’s a little trick I picked up from Talon as a means of trying to apologize for the way things went down in Esme’s past life. Though my shadow skills are not as advanced as his, moments like this, when they come in handy, I almost think about forgiving him and Celeste for taking Esme away from me over a century ago.
The poor fool falls to his knees and his face turns ghostly white. A second later, he topples over and a loud, shocked gasp collectively rings through the club as people gather to see if he’s going to be alright.
I’m two steps around the corner, hot on Esme’s delicious tail when the club owner runs past, and someone behind me shouts, “he’s dead!”
Good.
He deserved it.
Following the clickety-clack of Esme’s stilettos against marble, we quickly descend a spiral staircase into darkness. Across the way, I watch in panic as Esme slips through a large doorway and into another room.
I approach the door quickly.Muffled voices quietly sound on the other side as a slender palm slips around my waist.
Pulling a woman from behind me, I harshly swing her into view. Her eager gaze finds mine, but when she notices the color of my eyes, a fearful shiver rushes up her spine.
“I’m sorry,” she stammers. “I… I thought you were someone else.”
Narrowing my gaze, I study her startled expression and her flushed cheeks and swear I know her from somewhere. But when voices escalate on the other side of the door, I quickly drop her wrist and focus back on Esme.
“You like the chase?” she purrs, obviously not getting the clue.
Glancing back at the woman, I look down at her hand and study the white, pale skin circling her ring finger, which is a stark contrast to the tan that coats the rest of her body.
“Seems you do, too,” I hiss, “Seeing as you’re here instead of home in bed with your husband.”
“My husband doesn’t care what I do or who I do,” she suggests, coming a step closer. “Only that I’m happy.”