Page 15 of Blind Bite (Best Fangs Forever #1)
Chapter Fifteen
Jamie led me through the night-shrouded streets, his hand occasionally brushed against mine, which sent electric currents up my arm. We turned down an alley I’d never noticed before, stopping in front of an unmarked black door with a neon light of a heart above it.
“The Bleeding Heart,” Jamie announced, gesturing to a nearly invisible sign etched into the brick. “Best kept secret in town.”
“Kind of a morbid name. Is this a foreshadowing of what the night entails?”
Jamie laughed. “No, the owner is just... eccentric. She also bought this right after a particularly nasty breakup.” He knocked three times, and the door swung open.
A wall of sound hit me—low, pulsing music that vibrated in my chest. Deep crimson lighting washed over the interior, casting everyone in blood-tinted shadows.
“James!” A tall woman with red curls spiraling down her back approached. “I didn’t know you’d be by tonight.”
“Felicity, this is Lilith. Lilith, meet Felicity, the proprietor of this fine establishment.”
Felicity offered me a slight smile. “A pleasure,” the hint of sarcasm was apparent in her tone, though her eyes cut through to Jamie, so I couldn’t be sure I was the true target.
“The ledger is on your desk whenever you’re ready to work, though, I’m guessing that will be another night.
” Her eyes travelled from my hair down to my shoes before she seemed to come to her conclusions and sauntered off without so much of ‘goodbye’.
“She seemed... nice?” I offered.
“Like I said, eccentric. Sadly, that was a pleasant interaction.” Jamie guided me through the crowded heart of the place, his hand at the small of my back.
The club was packed but somehow intimate, with secluded booths lining the walls and a dance floor where bodies moved as one.
He brought us to a curved booth, nestled in a dark corner with a view of the club.
A server materialized. “Mr. Everthorn, your usual?”
“Please. And whatever the lady desires.”
“Something sweet but strong,” I said, surprising myself with boldly giving the girl my order without so much as a stutter. After she walked away, I turned to look at my impromptu date.
“Your usual?”
“I usually visit on site to do my work. I’ve become something of a regular.”
“Ah,” I said as I surveyed the room. I found it odd that this place was full, yet this prime table remained empty. “Regular enough to have his own table?”
“Just... regular enough.” He chuckled, and it brought a knowing smile to my face. “I even keep an office here so I can work in peace.”
When our drinks arrived—mine a ruby-colored concoction, his a dark amber liquid—I took a long sip. Liquid courage burned down my throat.
“So, Lilith Bensen, tell me something real.” Jamie leaned forward, those piercing blue eyes locked on mine.
“Like what?”
“What makes your heart race?”
I laughed nervously. “Besides being whisked away by mysterious men?”
“Besides that.”
“Art. Creation. That moment when something beautiful emerges from nothing.”
“Very eloquently said.” His fingers traced the rim of his glass.
“What about you?” I asked.
“What about me?”
“What makes your heart race?”
I watched as a smirk curled his lips. “The idea of finding something that lasts.” There was weight to his words I couldn’t quite decipher.
The conversation flowed effortlessly. Jamie had stories about everywhere—Paris in the rain, Tokyo at night, Rio during Carnival. He spoke like someone who had lived several lifetimes.
“Dance with me,” he said as the music shifted to something slower, more sensual.
“I’m not much of a dancer.” A menagerie of memories of all the times Amelie had brought me out to the dance floor just for me to pretend like I knew what I was doing flooded my mind.
I kept my moves simple, feigning to drunkenness if I felt like I was making a fool of myself.
No one batted an eye at a drunk white girl at the club.
“Everyone’s a dancer with the right partner.” He extended his hand.
Against my better judgement, I took it.
The dance floor was a press of bodies, but Jamie carved out space just for us. His hands found my waist, cool through the thin fabric of my dress.
“Relax,” he murmured against my ear, “feel the beat of the music.”
My body melted against his, our movements synced to the hypnotic beat. He guided me with the calm confidence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. We moved like we’d danced together a thousand times before.
“You’re a natural,” he whispered, his breath tickling my neck.
The music intensified, and so did our dance. My back pressed against his chest, his hands splayed across my hips. The room seemed to fade away until there was nothing but Jamie, the music, and the heat building between us.
I turned to face him, our bodies still moving in perfect rhythm.
His glacial eyes had darkened, hunger evident in their depths.
They reminded me of photos I’ve seen of the arctic ocean.
Dark blues swirled with hints of ice, something I was sure to drown in.
My hands found their way to his shoulders, then his neck, fingers threading through his hair.
The tension between us was unbearable—a live wire threatening to spark at any moment.
Jamie’s hand cupped my face, thumb brushing across my lower lip. “You’re dangerous,” he murmured.
“Me?” I laughed breathlessly. “I’m the least dangerous person here.”
“You have no idea.” His gaze dropped to my mouth.
The song changed, the beat more insistent, but we barely noticed. We were locked in our own world, pressed together, each breath synchronized.
Without warning, Jamie took my hand. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere private.”
He led me off the dance floor, through a hidden door at the back of the club. My heart hammered against my ribs, equal parts excitement and apprehension flooding my system.
Whatever was happening between us, I knew with absolute certainty that after tonight, nothing would ever be the same.