Page 59 of My Mr. Vampire

I offered her my arm, leaning close as if sharing an intimate joke. “Thanks for coming. You look sexy.”

“Sexy for what?” She took my arm. “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing here.”

“Surveillance,” I murmured, guiding her toward the entrance. “I’ll explain inside. Just follow my lead and pretend we’re having the time of our lives.”

She arched an eyebrow. “So, you dragged me out of my pee-jay’s and into this hooker dress for a stakeout?”

“Sort of.” We passed the bouncer who didn’t bother to card us or check for weapons.

“And you couldn’t do this alone?”

“No one knows who you are. But there are people that know me.” I handed the cash over to the cashier, who barely glanced at us before waving us through.

The door opened, and we’re hit with a wall of sound and scent. Reggaeton was pounding through speakers, the percussion so heavy I could feel it in my inner ears. The air was thick with perfume, sweat, spilled tequila, and the undertone of desire. Bodies pressed together on the dance floor, a churning mass of humanity moving to the rhythm.

“So, what are we looking for?” Morgan asked. Her lips weren’t close enough to my ear to be heard over the music.

“Not what. Who?” I guided her deeper into the club, one hand at the small of her back. “I’ll let you know when I see them. For now, let’s get drinks.”

Morgan twisted her lips, but allowed me to lead her to the bar. The bartender, a bald guy, nodded at us.

“Tequila,” Morgan said before I could order for us. “Double. Neat.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Pace yourself. We might be here a while.”

“If I’m spending my night playing spy, I’m not doing it sober.” She accepted the glass when it arrived, downing half in one smooth swallow.

I ordered a whiskey I wouldn’t drink. Alcohol was a show. My kind only needed blood. I scanned the club over the rim of my glass. The club’s lighting was designed for anonymity.

The VIP section occupied the far corner of the room and was elevated slightly above the main floor. That section was designed with plush booths separated by beaded curtains. This place was nothing like The Castle. I could look around and conclude the owner didn’t put much money into this place. My eyes lingered there, searching for Teresa, and for any sign of why she’d been coming here.

Morgan leaned against the bar. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about? Or should I just enjoy the music?”

I set my drink down after pretending to sip from it. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

“I need a better vantage point.” I took her hand, pulling her gently toward the dance floor.

Morgan followed. Her expression was skeptical, but her body was already moving to the beat. We found a spot near the center of the floor where I could turn in any direction. The song was something fast with Spanish lyrics I couldn’t quite catch over the noise of the crowd.

I placed my hands on Morgan’s waist, pulling her close to me. She looped her arms around my neck as our bodies found the rhythm together. We were close enough that any observers would think we’re just another couple, too absorbed in each other to notice anything else. I wanted to be this with her.

“Now will you tell me?” Morgan said against my ear.

“I’m looking for someone. A vampire named Teresa.” I kept my voice low, my lips close to her ear as we moved in tandem. “She’s been coming here, and I need to know why.”

Morgan pulled back slightly. “Teresa? As in Zand’s ex-wife Teresa? The one who is out here threatening my bestie?”

I spun her around, using the movement to scan the room again. “That one. How did you know?”

“Chanel told me.”

“Teresa was here earlier tonight, but she left. I’m hoping she comes back, or that I can figure out why she’s been frequenting this place.”

“And you needed me for this because?—?”

“Because a lone guy lurking in a club looks suspicious and like a creeper. A couple enjoying a night out doesn’t.” I pulledher close again as the song changed. “I don’t think Teresa has ever seen you.”

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