Page 20 of Ballad of Nightmares

Where’s your job?he asked her.

Stalker, I thought you knew already.

He smiled at her tease.The shit gallery uptown?

Rosen’s Gallery down on First, old town.

Like it?he texted back.

So far. It’s nice. Jay isn’t bad to work for. He’s pretty funny.

I think I’m jealous, he said, smiling at his phone.

You should be,she replied.

The three dots strummed at the bottom for a blip, appearing and reappearing like she was debating what to say next. Sam decided to reply before she had a chance to.

There’s a speakeasy down the street from Rosen’s,he typed.Called the Fountain.

Sounds nice,she said.

Have Jay show you where it is. I’ll meet you there at 8pm

Three dots rippled at the bottom as she typed back.Is this a date?she asked.

Scared, wicked girl?

The dots disappeared altogether this time, and after a minute, he wondered if maybe she had gotten called away. He sighed and started to put away his phone, but it buzzed before he could.

I’ll be there.

CHAPTER NINE

ANA CHANGED CLOTHES three times before finally deciding on high-waisted black pants and a black corset body suit that pushed her breasts up, leaving her sternum tattoo like a jewel on display, a temptation that she meant for him to lust after. She pushed her arms through the sleeves of her leather jacket and checked her outfit one more time before she left the apartment.

It amazed her when the moon showed its face at night on occasion. When clouds covered the skies all day, it was weird seeing a parting in them to allow the white light down onto the world. But it was never long. Only brief moments, and she cherished every glimpse.

When she approached the corner of the alleyway to the entrance, she nearly stopped walking at the sight of a tall man leaned against the brick building, smoke between his lips as he also stared up at the moon.

Fucking Death.

She’d seen Sam without the skull makeup a few times in the last three weeks, from across streets or from her window above the gallery, but now, seeing him up close…

Holy fucking demons was he just as sexy without the makeup.

He was wearing a thin long sleeve, V-neck black sweater, though the sleeves were pushed up, showing off the multitude of tattoos on his arms and a few peeking from beneath the vee. Rings wrapped a few of his fingers, one long necklace that dangled down to his stomach. And those fucking ripped jeans and combat boots.

Ana swallowed the dryness on her throat. “Hey, stalker,” she said as she drew closer.

Sam turned to her slowly, that stray hair falling out of place over his eye when he dipped his chin and then smiled at her, the right corner of his lips hiking higher than the other side. She noticed then the slight dimple in that hollow cheek, the way shadows clung to his features despite the moonlight.

“Temptress,” came his low drawl, and a chill skittered over her skin at the sound of his voice. His eyes skated over her in a manner that made her feel claimed and taken, as if any other man who might look at her that night would have their eyes burned for even thinking about it.

“I like this outfit,” he said, gaze landing on the sheer black lace banding around her middle.

Ana’s lips twisted at the way he looked at her clothes. “If you’re nice, you might get to see what’s beneath it,” she suggested.

Sam’s lips twitched again, lashes lifting to her gaze. “That’s too bad,” he muttered. “I’ve never been accused of being nice.”