Page 2 of Ophelia's Vampire

“I’m not.” I huff a soft laugh. “Or, well, I wasn’t. And the unfortunate creature is my sister.”

Casimir nods sagely and glances out over the rest of the club. “Drawn away into temptation?”

I follow his gaze, eyes skimming over the crowd, the couples and trios and more, the permissive shadows. “Something like that.”

“And you?” He turns, his smile something else now, something deeper, darker. “What temptation might draw you away?”

I swallow hard, pulse racing at the invitation in those words.

I’ve only talked to Casimir a handful of times. Always in clubs like the Raven, tucked away in secret corners of Boston. Hidden havens for beings like Cleo, like Casimir, like Marcus.For vampires and half-vamps and other paranormals to shed a bit of their secrecy amongst like company. And humans, of course, others like me who’ve been invited behind the veil of that secrecy through our connections to the paranormal world.

And every single time I’ve spoken to Casimir, I’ve felt out of my depth.

I barely know anything about him, other than he’s centuries old and one of the most powerful vampires in the city. I don’t know what circles he runs in or what kind of business—aboveboard or otherwise—he’s a part of. I don’t think I want to know.

Because even though places like this exist, and even though I’ve been invited in through Cleo and through my stepfather, Samuel, I’m just a guest here. There are dangers lurking even in decadent, temptation-filled clubs like this one, and I’m not naïve enough not to know one of those dangers is standing right in front of me.

Even so, I’m also not strong enough to be unaffected by the low, teasing warmth in his voice. I’m not strong enough not to be swayed by the way he leans closer, close enough for me to smell the sharp spice of his cologne and to admire the roguish lock of platinum blond hair that falls over his forehead.

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “So far I’ve only been tempted to call it a night and go home.”

Casimir clicks his tongue in disapproval. “And what a shame that would be, when the night is still so young.”

His eyes rove over me. From the cascade of curls I spent an hour perfecting to the near-indecent hemline of my dress.

With more boldness than I feel, I return the favor. I look him up and down, from the tailored cut of his midnight black suit to the open vee of pale skin at his throat, to his face, where I can’t help but linger.

Casimir is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Elegant, refined features, and lips that always seem to be set into a teasing smirk. An approving warmth in his eyes as he notes my inspection and goes still, like he’s waiting for me to finish.

“Let me tempt you, sweet Ophelia?”

Another shiver runs through me, but I nod, lost in the spell of those crimson eyes and the offer in the hand he extends to me. Casimir helps me off my barstool, placing a gentle touch at the small of my back as he murmurs into the shell of my ear.

“Can I find us some place a little quieter?”

I nod again, though some part of me is well-aware I shouldn’t, and his gaze darkens with satisfaction.

Casimir leads me from the bar and around the edge of the dance floor to the club’s main entrance, set two stories below street level in the basement of a towering high-rise. The gargoyle bouncer nods at us as we head for the elevator.

A warning bell sounds in the back of my mind as Casimir hits the call button to take us up. Like he can feel that unease, he squeezes my hand.

“I thought the rooftop might be a good place to have a little privacy and talk.”

“We’re allowed up there?”

His lip curls into a conspiratorial smirk. “I know the building’s owner. I can assure you we’re allowed.”

Still, as the elevator arrives and the doors open, as he steps forward and draws me in behind him, I hesitate.

“We can stay here if you’d prefer,” Casimir says, all that teasing gone from his voice. “I didn’t mean to make you feel—”

“No. It’s alright. The rooftop sounds great.”

His brow furrows slightly, but he nods as I step in behind him.

The doors close, and the elevator immediately feels small,toosmall, too close and confined. I wonder if he can hear thebeating of my heart from where I stand beside him, the rasp of nervous breath in my lungs.

What the hell am I doing?

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