Amanda’s eyes are glazing over, and I’m struggling to continue listening to Blake too.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I say, leaving my untouched drink on the table. “I’ll be right back.”
He doesn’t stop talking as I get up. It’s a well-worn lecture.
I elbow my way toward the bathrooms, but when I spot the line, I change my mind and go back over to the bar. I just need a moment to collect myself. It’s hard for me to listen to someone talking about substance use disorder the way Blake does.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate him. He does things like pay for my drinks, and he gets me presents, like tickets to go see football, although that’s definitely more for him than for me. But it’s the thought that counts. And I’ve never really been the romantic type. I don’t get butterflies and tingles about people like that. It’s just not in my nature.
“Excuse me,” says a smooth voice from over my shoulder.
I turn, and all of the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
There’s nothing immediately unusual about the woman standing in front of me. She’s perhaps more nicely dressed than the youngeruniversity crowd in this bar, her crisp blazer well-tailored and her slick black hair pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck. She has perfect, golden skin and dazzling, dark brown eyes.
But there’s somethingabouther. Something just a little bit off that I can’t place.
“I’m sorry to have startled you,” she says, although her tone and expression don’t seem apologetic at all. On the contrary, she looks a little amused.
“It’s all right,” I reply. To my embarrassment, my voice comes out a little squeaky. “Can…can I help you?”
“I couldn’t help listening to your conversation,” she says. “And I heard that you’re having some financial trouble.”
Her gaze never wavers from mine. She doesn’t seem to blink very often, and it’s a little disconcerting. I don’t believe that she could have overheard us. After all, she’s sitting at the bar and our table is all the way across the room, through a thick crowd of chattering people.
“Excuse me, but I don’t know how that’s any of your business,” I reply.
She grins, although it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I have anopportunitythat I think may interest you.” She reaches quickly into her pocket and pulls out a crimson card with black, gothic font. “I represent an organization that employs young people such as yourself. We pay very generously, and I believe you’d find the work to be…amenable.”
I take the card from her, and squint at it in the dim bar light. My heart skips a beat when I read what it says.
“You’re avampire?” I gasp.
“One of many,” she replies silkily, with a twitch of her lip.
Suddenly, I notice the red velvet curtains lining the walls, and the lace and leather outfits that the other people in the crowd are wearing. A poster on the wall depicts a man in a dark cape with long, pointed teeth. I’ve been so distracted tonight, I wasn’t paying attention to the decor.
I’m not surprised Amanda would take us to a vampire bar, and that she wouldn’t tell me. If she had, I probably wouldn’t have come. I know about the existence of vampires, but I’ve never met a real one before. They’re dangerous, and in this city, they’re often involved in organized crime. It’s not something I’d like to get tangled up in if I canhelp it.
“Thank you, but I’m not interested,” I tell her firmly, handing the card back to her.
But she doesn’t take it. To my horror, she leans in a little closer, her gaze meeting mine. “This isn’t an offer we extend to just anyone. My clients have very particular tastes, and they’re willing to pay handsomely to satisfy them. It would be wise for you to seriously consider it.”
There’s some strange power in her stare, and I find it hard to pull away. “Particular…tastes?”
“Have you ever donated blood before?”
“Yes…”
“Well, this would bejustlike that,” she purrs, her long-lashed eyes narrowing hungrily.
I stumble backward, hitting my back painfully against the sharp bar counter.
“I seriously doubt that,” I mutter, nervously. “And I’m sorry, but I’m not the person you’re looking for.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I turn back toward our table and start to push through the crowd. I want to get away from that woman as quickly as I can.
But then…the song changes. I wasn’t listening to the pounding music before, but this bass line is immediately familiar. I don’t need to hear the opening verse to recognize it.
