Page 26 of Forsworn By The Vampire
She sat on that stool like she had every fucking right to be there. Like she belonged here, surrounded by vampires. And it pissed me right the hell off. There was no doubt I was the reason she decided to catch the show. As soon as I walked out onto the stage, her gaze zeroed in on me and locked on.
But I had no time to confront her about shit. It was my turn to put on a show.
Determined to ignore her, I started to freestyle, working my way across the stage and grinning wickedly at the human women who crowded around the stage, waving cash at me. And I was still fully clothed in black pants hung low on my hips and a plain, white T-shirt.
Losing myself in Eminem's beat, I danced.
I'd hoped the witch would leave when she'd seen enough to know I wasn't going to pay her any mind, but I should've known better. I was down to a black g-string with ones and fives poking out all over when I finally deigned to give her an ounce of attention again. Defiance written all over my face, as if to prove she didn't own me--whether to her or to myself, I didn't know--I grabbed the best-looking woman I could reach and pulled her up onto the stage with me.
It didn't escape my notice that the woman had red hair, however, it was nothing like Leeloo's. Her lips weren't the color of blood, and she was dressed all in yellow, a color I'd never seen on Angel. She looked like a summer picnic, one any man with eyes would like to lounge around in all day. Quite a different vibe from the perfectly put together witch with her narrowed cat eyes watching me from the bar. I didn't want to spend a lazy day inside of her, I wanted to rip her expensive clothes off her delectable body and fuck her hard against a wall. Wanted to leave marks on her pale skin so she wouldn't be able to look at herself in a mirror without remembering I was there. I knew just by looking at her that witch was no sunny day, she was a summer storm. Hot and wet and full of electricity that would shock my system until I craved nothing but her.
I left my guest squealing in excitement with her friends as I walked off stage and grabbed a wooden chair. Setting it behind her, I took her hand and indicated for her to sit down, kissing the back of her knuckles. Her flowery scent hit me hard, too cloying, and I tried not to wrinkle my nose in disgust as I flashed my "fake" fangs at her. Her eyes widened, but she smiled big and glanced down at her friends as I started to dance around her and tried not to think about the sweet spice of the woman at the bar.
Going around behind her, I grabbed the seat and picked her up, chair and all, spinning her around before putting her back down. Jumping up, my feet on the side rungs, I gyrated in her face, her hands on my thighs, trying to pull me closer. I waved my finger at her playfully and shook my head, then backflipped away before dancing up close again. Leaning down, I grabbed the chair behind her head and tilted it back, my face in her cleavage...
The chair was suddenly yanked from my hands and the woman fell backward, landing on the floor and sliding between my spread legs and halfway across the stage.
What the fuck?
The ladies in the crowd "ooh'd" and "ahh'd" like I'd meant to do that shit, and I played along even as my mind went through all of the different ways that could've happened. I kept coming up with the same answer: there was only one natural way, and there wasnoway I'd dropped her. These little chair tricks took barely any effort at all.
Jogging over to her, I straightened the chair to seat her upright again and grinned, playing it off, my hand on the back of her head to check for a lump as I leaned down and asked if she was okay. She assured me she was fine, her hand drifting to my bare chest. It took effort on my part not to push it away, which was weird. I was used to being touched, and it normally didn't bother me at all unless they got too insistent about it.
Suddenly, her hand abruptly flew back, like it was attached to a string and something was pulling her away from me. At the same time, a few of the lights above the stage busted, raining glass down onto our heads. Everyone who'd been crowding around the stage screamed and backed away, falling over chairs and tables as they went.
What the actual fuck?
My eyes flew to the bar where Angel was now on her feet, eyes wide, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. But there was no surprise on her face. Only a cloud of guilt.
Her gaze clashed with mine over the heads of the women teetering toward the exit with drinks in hand, then she turned and gathered her coat and bag from the stool beside her and joined the throng, pushing her way through the panicked women in an effort to escape.
Elias stood behind the bar with a bottle in one hand watching it all go down. I signaled to him and pointed at Angel. With a nod, he jumped the bar and easily closed the distance between them. Luckily, everyone was too worried about getting the hell out of the bar and paid no attention at all to the bartender who covered twenty feet in a quarter of a second. Reaching around a young blond, he caught Angel by the arm and hauled her out of the chaos, pulling her back against his chest and locking her there by wrapping both big arms around her.
By the time I arrived beside them, the air was thick with magic, slithering over my bare skin, and Elias was trembling with the effort to hang onto her as she zapped him, but there was a wide grin on his face. Little did she know, Elias liked pain almost as much as he liked an orderly bar.
"What did you do?" I demanded over the music.
"Tell him to let me go," she ordered.
I gave Elias a nod. He gave her a warning squeeze around her waist, grunting when she zapped him one last time, then dropped his arms and released her. I tried and failed to stop the possessive sound that erupted from my chest when he didn't release her immediately. But Elias wasn't offended, he just grinned and wandered back behind the bar.
I half expected her to try to take off again, but she only glanced at the back of the group trying to push their way through the exit door and made a face. When I looked to see what was causing that look, I saw my stage partner, arms linked with her girlfriend, talking animatedly as they both kept glancing back over their shoulders at me and then the stage. Like they expected the exploding lights to follow them or some such shit.
Humans were fucking ridiculous sometimes.
"Wanna come with me?" I asked her.
She hesitated, looking down at the floor, then shrugged.
"Don't touch that," I told Elias, indicating the broken glass. "Leeloo here will clean it up when I'm done with her."
Her expression hardened, but she lifted her chin defiantly and didn't say a word.
"Come on." Taking her cold hand, I pulled her behind me, heading toward the office.
Kenya stood at the entrance to the hallway, watching the commotion. Her brown eyes danced with amusement as I approached, hauling a reluctant witch behind me.
"Can I use the office?" I asked her. I would take Angel to the back room, but I wanted privacy. Or as much as could be had with two vampires and their supersonic hearing lurking around.
