Page 49

MORGAN

The blood in my glass tasted different tonight. I swirled it around, watching the crimson liquid cling to the crystal in ways I couldn’t see before. Everything was heightened now. The bass from the dance floor no longer just vibrated through the floor, it pulsed through my body like a second heartbeat. I moved downstairs to the other curtained VIP section when Chanel went to her man’s office. This section was closer to the dance floor and the main bar.

Zand had dismissed Harlen. He was sitting with me, curtains open, people watching. I was chilling and minding my newfound vampire business when I caught Layla’s eye, darting over to our table when she thought I wasn’t watching. My eyesight was even better as a vampire, and I could clearly see through the Prada sunglasses I wore.

“You’re doing it again.” Harlen said on the couch beside me. His voice was pitched low enough that human ears couldn’t catch it over the music. “That thousand-yard vampire stare.”

I blinked and pulled my attention back to him. “Sorry. It’s just, you know.” Words failed me as I gestured vaguely at the club beyond our private booth.

“Overwhelming?” He offered and lounged back against the plushness of the couch. “Pretty baby, it gets easier. Your brain learns to filter.”

“When?” I sighed, taking another sip of the warm blood.

Harlen shrugged. His ocean eyes scanned the dance floor. “Depends. A few weeks, a couple months.”

I rolled my eyes. All of the answers were so vague. It felt like vampires just made up the rules as they went along. The club was packed tonight. So many bodies grinding against each other on the dance floor, sweat, perfume and alcohol creating a cocktail of scents that I can somehow differentiate. The lights strobed across the dancers. Each flash revealed moments frozen in perfect clarity. There was a woman throwing her head back in laughter. I saw a man’s hand sliding under the hem of his partner’s shirt. I spied a bouncer escorting a drunken patron toward the exit.

And through it all, I kept noticing Layla.

She stood near the bar; her tall frame and platinum blonde hair made her easy to spot even in the crowded space. On the surface, she was doing her job. She was greeting VIP guests. Some WNBA player and a popular social media influencer were in the club. Layla was directing the staff at The Castle. But there was something off about her movements. Her eyes kept finding their way back to our section. Her prying eyes were lingering just a little bit too long. Sitting this close to Harlen was the sign I liked men, and I was with this man. Why was she checking me out? Looking at someone this hard meant one, you want to bone, or two, you want to catch these hands.

“What are you staring at?” Harlen asked, following my gaze.

“Layla,” I murmured, not taking my eyes off her Charlize Theron looking ass. “She’s been watching us.” I meant me, but I didn’t want to sound crazy.

“She’s the PR manager or some boujee title my brother dubbed. Watching people is literally her job.”

“Not like this.” I leaned forward, setting my bloody glass down. “Look at her now.”

As if on cue, one of the bartenders mentioned something to Layla, and I saw her perfect posture change subtly. `There was a stiffening of her spine, a slight tilt of her head. My new vampire hearing picked up fragments of their conversation through the music. Strangely, I could kind of read lips too.

“...Ms. Taylor, oh she just left...” the bartender said.

Layla’s hand immediately goes into the pocket of her dress. She pulled out her phone. Her fingers moved rapidly across the screen, typing something before slipping the cell phone away again. The movement was casual. It’s the urgency of her text that caught my attention.

“Did you see that?” I whispered to Harlen. “The way she reacted when Chanel was mentioned?”

“What? What’s that about Chanel?”

Don’t tell me I can hear better than Harlen? “Dude told her Chanel was gone and then Layla pulls out her phone.” I didn’t even know Chanel had left the club.

“Coincidence.” Harlen said.

My cell phone buzzed on the table in front of me. I lifted it to read the text I had from Chanel. I read it and it said:

CHANEL: I’m gone. I’m going home to get some sleep. I can’t stay up all night like YOU people. Lol

I texted back: TTYL

I placed my cell phone back down on the table. From across the room, I watched Layla reading her phone screen. She placed her cell phone back in her pocket and for a few minutes shestood still with what I registered as a concerned look on her face. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. I was so focused; I heard it over the sound of the music. Layla reached for her phone again. This time, I removed my sunglasses and zeroed in on her face. My enhanced vision picked up her micro-expressions. Her mouth was tightened. Her eyes were laser focused. She looked panicked and not like her normal, flawless, perfect self.

“Babe, I think she’s reporting something.” I said, with no real evidence to back up my claims. “She keeps texting someone.”

Harlen straightened slightly. His posture lost some of its casualness. “Who?”

“Layla, pay attention.” I snapped.

“What are you talking about?” Harlen asked. He didn’t seem irritated with me. He just seemed confused.