Page 10 of Loving A Vampire Is Total Chaos

“I worry about you, Celine,” she says in a soft-tone that belies her normal bubby exuberance.

“Why are you worried about me?” I ask, stepping onto the elevator.

She eyes me with a look that saysare you seriously asking me that right now?

“Oh, please, you talk to a cat who you’re in a constant love-hate relationship with and won’t glance up long enough from your reports to see the attention you get from men.” The elevator doors slide open, our heeled shoes clicking on the tiled floor. “I know you’re not a partier, but you need to put yourself out there and meet people. Your life can’t stop because you’re taking care of everyone around you.”

A slight breeze pulls some of my hair from beneath my jacket, tickling my nose. I quickly brush it behind my ear so it’s out of my way. “If you promise to look around and listen when you can, then I’ll promise to let loose a teensy bit.” I pinch my fingers together with the slightest bit of space between them to emphasize my point.

“Deal. But hopefully it’s more than a teensy bit.” She wraps an arm around me and pulls me in for a side hug. “I think the only other time I’ve seen you loosey goosey is when we both got drunk over the news of Ren Evans.” The day the leading man of our favorite romantic drama announced his departure was a sad day indeed.

“I still haven’t recovered,” I mumble wiping an invisible tear from my eye. Ava murmurs her agreement which is promptly ended by a squeal and her jumping into Spencer’s arms who leans against his idling car.

Spencer is an attractive man, and I really like him for Ava. He balances out her chaotic energy with his even keeled aura. He’s an all-around gentleman holding doors open for her, bringing flowers by the office, and cooking dinner. As clingy as they are when they’re together, they also know how to be autonomous and give each other space. Whenever I find my significant other, I hope he’s like Spencer. I’m not sure I could handle someone who isn’t self-sufficient and needs constant supervision.

“Your carriage, milady.” With a sweep of his arm Spencer lets Ava into the passenger seat.

Tapping my booted foot on the ground I cross my arms in mock anger, “What am I, chopped liver?”

Spencer opens the back car door and winks at me.

“Of course not. Court jester? Maybe,” he laughs at his own stupid joke.

I glare playfully at him and wiggle into the car best I can without flashing Ava’s doorman and the general Chicago populus as they walk by.

“Remind me again who we’re looking for?” Ava turns in her seat once we’re on the road.

I pull up my notes on my phone. “From my research the club owner’s name is Damien Black. He has two other night club locations, one in Los Angeles and another in Miami. Successful businessman and somehow not much to be found about him on the internet, he keeps to himself for the most part, doesn’t have any kids, and doesn’t have a partner.”

Normally, I wouldn’t discuss the details of a case fully with Ava and definitely not with Spencer present but since it’s not a case—not yet, at least—I don’t see the need to filter what I say.

“Hmm.” Ava taps her chin thoughtfully. “How do we know he’s supposedly involved with trafficking if there’s so little information out there?”

“We don’t. I’m just basing things off what Luna said.” Locking my phone and looking out the window, I watch the city pass by in a stream of neon colors. I know it’s bad to let my focus stray in this direction since it’s not the case I should be working on. It’s not even a case. But I can’t help myself. Ever since Luna mentioned it, there’s been something that keeps needling me about it. “There were also instances at his other club locations of women going missing. Somehow it was brushed under the rug and blamed on irresponsible behavior and unfortunate butrealistic city nightlife.” Spencer scoffs and I agree with his assessment. “He must have friends in high places to stay out of the drama.”

“Do you have a picture of him?” Ava’s phone dings right after she finishes talking and she laughs under her breath seeing I’ve already sent it to her. “Wow, that’s not the crochety, greaseball I thought it might be. Kind of hot actually.”

“Should I be worried?” Spencer tries to peer over and look at Ava’s screen while simultaneously keeping his eyes on the road.

Kissing his cheek, she gazes lovingly into his eyes, “Of course not, Stud Muffin,” she says sarcastically. Turning and holding a hand up in mock secrecy she loudly whispers, “That kind of money wouldn’t be too bad, though.”

Spencer lets out a snort and pulls up to the curb of the club. “I’m going to let you ladies out here and try to find parking. Wish me luck.”

I once again finagle my way out and immediately pull the dress down as far as possible to cover my skin that’s now pebbling under the crisp fall weather.

Why did I let Ava talk me into wearing this scrap of clothing?

The pink and blue neon club lights illuminate our faces as we take it in. A historic building that’s been refurbished, it’s truly a sight to behold. You’d never guess it was a club during the day with its white brick and imposing black doors. The party has already started and the bass of whatever EDM song is playing inside blares onto the city streets whenever the bouncer opens the door. Every few seconds the shine of disco balls streak across my vision through the stained-glass windows.

We shuffle through the crowd of people and wind our way around the building to the end of the line. Huddling closer for warmth, Ava and I thankfully make it to the door within a fewminutes and present our IDs. With a silent nod from the bouncer and opening of the door we’re inside.

It’s an overwhelming scene for someone like me who much prefers the quiet solace of my apartment, and I think my eardrums might burst with how loudly the music reverberates around the room.

The refurbishment of the old building has been done in a tasteful way where it still showcases the original beauty of the architecture but brings modern flare at the same time. The white brick from the outside continues into the interior and reflects the light back easily around the room. Large archways looking down upon the floor can be found as you take the stairs up higher within the building. They don’t seem to lead anywhere, just more alcoves for debauchery. Cages hang from the ceiling holding female dancers dressed in skimpy bustiers and panties.

A large circular bar is set in the middle of the room instead of back against the wall like I’d assume. Multiple bartenders take orders and deliver drinks to the flow of patrons who’ve stopped to drink after gyrating on the dance floor.

Private booths line one wall, shadows moving behind white curtains.

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