Page 232 of Flirting with Darkness

“Yeah, it’s your funeral, kid,” said the first guard.

They both laughed. I ignored them, keeping my gaze fixed on the door as it opened and the smells of the club hit me. Sex, alcohol, sweat, fear, lust, it all mingled in a heady and exhilarating mix. After a pat-down by a handsy female demon, I was in.

Hot bodies pushed against me as I fought my way to the bar. Across the room the fight ring was in full flow. Blood splattered across the floor, and the crowd hissed and cheered. Drinks flowed, and all kinds of species moved seductively against each other. It was packed. It always was. The place was a neutral ground for supernaturals, even with the Made vampires waging war against the Originals—like my mark.

I spied the object of my thoughts. It wasn’t hard. The Count sat on his throne like the fucking king of all he surveyed, his dark hair hanging down his back, his bespoke suit clinging to his muscular yet sleek frame. Diamond cufflinks glinted as he moved, almost as lustrous as his stunning, almost colourless eyes. He oozed power, and shadows slithered around his chair as he moved. Using a firm hand, he yanked the rune-covered, bald-headed witch that he kept at his feet closer by the chain around her neck.

Fear flickered through me. Would that be me by the end of the night? She was clearly his prisoner. What had she done to deserve his wrath? A chill settled in my stomach. What had he done to deserve mine? I felt no hate towards him, no need for vengeance or blood shed. Shit, what the fuck was I doing here? He was my father’s enemy, not mine. My heart began racing, confusion clouding my resolve. Could I really do this? Murder someone in cold-blood? Even if I could, the Count was powerful. And I was...definitely not.

As if feeling the weight of my scrutiny he glanced my way, his eyes glittering dangerously. Menace, and the promise of violence far beyond my understanding, glinted in their depths. I tore my gaze away. “Shit…” I murmured, trying to stop my hands shaking. In an effort to calm my anxiety, I sat on a stool, waiting to catch the attention of the barmaid. I needed some kind of courage boost.

“Brandy, please,” I requested when she briefly met my gaze.

The pretty blonde nodded before looking down again. I frowned. I wanted to tell her to lift her gaze, that she didn’t need to be submissive to me. Gods, I’d spent so long being like her. Weak. Submissive. A target. It made me angry on her behalf. A scarf covered her neck. It didn’t take a genius to know what was under it. Scars. Scars that I’d seen so many blood-slaves carry.

At least she looked at me again before taking my money. Pissed-off at the cruelty of this world, I grabbed the glass and knocked back a good mouthful. I didn’t like the taste of alcohol, never had, but I enjoyed the burn of the amber liquid as it slipped down my throat, soothing my nerves and giving me the courage I so desperately needed.

Having enough money and freedom to order a drink was still strange, but reality was a bitch.It's only temporary,it whispered in my ear. Even if I succeeded, Victor would have to be the one to take me to our Vampire Lord. Having to see Victor again was a fact I hated. It was even worse that I’d have to rely on him to actually keep his word. My eyes flicked back across the sea of heads to the Count. That was if I lived through this…

I knocked back the rest of my drink. Did I really want to become a Made? I was part Original vampire but it was such a weak part of me I might as well be completely human. The thought of being like Victor sent disgust through me, but there was a constant desire in my heart to belong somewhere, and I desperately wanted to believe that my life could be different. Deep down, though, I suspected no matter what happened here, it wouldn’t change. I didn’t trust Victor to keep his word, but if I ran, he would hunt me down.

I caught the eye of the shy barmaid again. The lights at the far end of the bar illuminated her face. Gods, she looked even more human than me. I was about to order another drink when a deep voice resonated through me, warm breath fanning my ear.

“You want another?”

4

DAVLOV

Watching the beautiful young man was no hardship. He was even more stunning in the flesh than he’d looked on the security monitors. He was painfully thin and wearing a cheap suit that was ill-fitting, but there was something about him that called to me. A strange tight feeling invaded my belly as I took in his pretty face. My cock jumped as he tipped the glass of brandy against his soft lips and the slim column of his throat bobbed as he swallowed. I wondered what it would feel like to have those full dusky pink lips wrapped around my cock.

I frowned, grinding my teeth together. No one had stirred this kind of desire in me for so long it was unsettling. Something tugged behind my ribs, a feeling that couldn’t be ignored. My heart jumped and raced as I prowled up behind him, quiet and lethal in my movements. I inhaled, his heady scent drifting up my nose. It wasn’t a scent I could put my finger on, but something unique, something I knew I’d never forget, not now it was burned into my brain.

I shook my head, utterly thrown by my reaction to him. Was he a witch? Someone sent here by our enemy to bring me down before attacking the Count?

I snarled quietly. The people around me stepped away immediately, but not him. The innocent human was oblivious to the danger at his back. My blood ran colder than ice when he glanced over at my Lord—again. My brain fired warning signals. He seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with the only vampire in this world I was loyal to. Count Balthazar Rossi was my Lord and my best friend. He had been for hundreds of years. Lovers, friends, enemies, they all came and went, but my loyalty to him never wavered and never would. I’d give my very long life for him in the blink of an eye.

Leaning my big body forward, I placed a hand either side of the young man. The bar’s surface was so sticky with old alcohol my hands stuck to it. It disgusted me, but I didn’t move. Instead, I revelled in his sudden intake of breath and the tremor that ran through him when he realised he was trapped.

“You want another?” I whispered in his ear.

It took mere seconds for his predicament to register, and while it did, I enjoyed the scent of his fear—and the heady aroma of lust. He liked being under my control—or at least what it promised. I’d had years to study and analyse behaviours in all species, and someone like him screamed of submission.

He tilted his head to look at me. I smiled, enjoying his frustration when he couldn’t see my face. He tried to push back to see me, except my shoulder prevented him. “Relax, I’m just buying you a drink. I’ll not hurt you. Sorcha? Two double brandies.”

I held myself there, and he remained still. Gods, my cock was so hard it pushed painfully against my zipper. I was glad he was sitting on a barstool, and I was tall enough to box him in without actually touching his body. That evidence of my desire was a weakness no one needed to know about. I was Davlov Zoltar, right hand to the most powerful vampire lord in Europe. I was a cold and calculating bastard who showed no emotion and would rip out the throat of anyone who threatened the Count or those under his protection.

I ignored the tug on my chest, the one that pulled me closer to the young man, urging me to take what was mine. That deep yearning had gotten worse each time this beautiful man came into the club, pretending to be with a group only to veer far away from them as soon as he could. Watching him on the security system had only fired my need to find out more. He’d turned my emotions into an uncontrollable tempest without him even knowing I existed. I was totally thrown, but I was also intrigued. He was far too interested in my Lord, although that could be because he was just overawed by the powerful allure of the Count. Either way, I needed to know why he was in the Gambit. And I needed to know what spell he’d cast that he could so easily ensnare me.

“If you’re buying me a drink, then at least let me see your face.” His voice was slightly husky. I hid a smile. It wavered, a slight tang in the air giving away his anxiety. My proximity scared him, but the slight flush to his pale cheeks told me liked it, too. Despite the fact that I never hit on patrons, nor did I accept drinks from anyone, I yanked a stool closer with my foot and perched on it, giving him some space.

We stared at each other, tension and desire thickening the air, sending goosebumps along my arms. His cerulean eyes were the clearest I’d ever seen. I could look at them forever and never get tired of it. Internally, I rolled my eyes. Godsdamn, I was going soft.

Shaking myself, I took in his brown wavy hair and pale skin. His nose was broken, but that didn’t detract from his beauty. His lips were full and pouty and begged to be kissed…my breath hitched…and bitten. The thought of sucking that plump softness between my lips and tasting his blood as he moaned my name left me feeling so turned on I had to shift in my seat to hide the evidence of my desire. A small snarl bared my fangs. My reaction was ridiculous. I’d just met the guy, and instinct told me he was here for much more than a quick fuck.

“Here you go, Dav.” Sorcha gave me a timid smile and went back to serving. The guard I’d allocated to her watched the customers closely. None of them bothered her, his presence at her back a huge deterrent. So was the scent of the Count, which rolled off her in waves. It alerted all the dangerous and seductive fuckers in here that she was the Count’s property. That meant if they tried to harm her they would die, painfully.

I nudged one of the glasses towards the young man. His pupils enlarged as he looked at me, but I forced myself to see past my lust to the man beneath. The scent of fear hit me, yanking me from the fantasy of slamming my mouth against his. Gods, not only was he far younger than the men I usually fucked, he was part human. That meant breakable, but apparently, that didn’t seem to matter to my body because I could barely keep from touching him. I fisted my hands, my nails growing and digging into my palms. He affected me like no one else ever had. Made me want things that I'd never had. Dangerous things that had no business entering my head.Mate. Mine.I shook those disturbing thoughts away and inhaled again.

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