Page 19

Hollis hopped on the bench, walked across the table, and dropped down next to me a second later. Springing up, I shoved the chair between us. Face impassive, his eyes glinted with suppressed humor. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He offered me his hand. “Shall we?”

Reluctantly, I took his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. I still hated being touched. Mostly. Okay, Clive holding my hand didn’t bother me at all. In fact—not important. The point was, I could do this. Fearsome, not fearful.

The dark, atmospheric music had a driving bass that whipped up the horde. Bodies bounced and flung themselves around the dance floor. Hollis ignored the crowd around us, pulled me into a tight embrace, and then began to salsa. Mouth dry, I followed his lead, meeting him twist for turn.

How did I know how to dance? And there it was, a flash of memory. Mom teaching me to dance. A radio playing in a yellow kitchen. Laughter. Dancing was our exercise and our fun. Mom didn’t like us to go out, so music and reading filled our days. I held the memory close as I danced with the Alpha.

He had me pulled in tight, before flinging me out and spinning me back. His hand rode low on my back while we swayed in rhythm to the music. The man had skills. When a guy almost barreled into me, Hollis growled deep and spun me out of the way, placing himself in the path. The hapless dancer bounced off Hollis’s powerful back, ricocheting into a group that moved, letting him fall to the floor.

Pulling me in close again, he whispered in my ear, “I meant what I said. I liked Michael. I don’t like talking with a leech listening in, but if you ever want to visit, call me. I’ll give you safe passage through our territory.”

“I appreciate that.”

Grunting, he spun me out and then back. “Alexander hated wicches as much as I do. The only thing that would have set Alexander against his favorite son would have been a wicche.” He shrugged. “My two cents.”

Nodding, I wondered if all this pain, these deaths, could have been avoided if my grandfather had just accepted his son’s wife.

Hollis paused, looking over my shoulder. Following his gaze, I found Clive, standing still, like a rock in a stream, as a hundred dark-clad dancers swayed and jerked around him.

“May I cut in?” Sometimes that deep British voice made me breathless. This was one of those times.

Hollis nodded before focusing his attention back on me. Grinning, he pulled my hand up to his mouth for a kiss. “It was brief but a pleasure. If you’d ever like to do it again, you know where to find me.” He sauntered back to his table, the eyes of countless men and women following him.

“Shall we?” Clive held out his arms and I walked right in. He pulled me in close and we slow danced, ignoring the pounding throng around us.

Smiling at the ridiculousness of swaying to music only we could hear, I tucked my head into the crook of his neck. He always smelled so good, like linens warmed in the sun. I clung to one shoulder, my other hand resting on his chest, cradled in his hand. The arm around me flexed, pulling me in tighter. This was the Clive he seemed to keep well-hidden. The face he presented to the world was one of threat, power, and authority. Privately, though, he’d shown me great kindness, gentleness even. Had I not been targeted, had Clive not felt the responsibility to protect me, I’d have missed it, too. I’d have missed him entirely.

And then I heard it. He was humming, something lovely and slow. The music in his head shared a bass beat with the house music blasting through speakers, making the floor tremble. I could block it all out, though, and easily. Clive wove an enchanted circle around us, as we danced, out of time and place, alone, lost in the moment.

His thumb brushed back and forth, making lazy circles on my spine. The index finger of the hand holding mine moved almost imperceptibly, making me hyper-aware of every point of contact we shared. The music rumbled through his chest against my ear. It was as if the world had shrunk down to this small circle, ancient music filling my head as Clive moved his fingertips in time.

When the music changed, the humming was cut short with a soft sound of irritation. “The gnats in my ears won’t leave me alone tonight. I suppose I should be happy they subsided long enough for one dance.” Clive walked me through the dance floor, the crowd parting and then joining as we passed.

Russell, waiting off to the side, fell in step as we passed. “I apologize, Liege. They are restless, and I was unable to put them off.”

“I don’t owe them this. I refuse to sacrifice the possibility because of their bigotry,” Clive spat. He stopped in the dark hall leading to the office before turning back to Russell. “Make sure Sam gets home safely. I’ll deal with the outraged whisperers.” Clive was seething. I’d never seen him this angry before and had no idea what had prompted it.

“They may never be able to understand and accept, Sire.” Russell’s voice had taken on the quiet apology of one not wishing to say what he must.

“My patience can only be stretched so far. I expect loyalty. If they can’t give it—” Clive stalked down the hall and threw open the office door, slamming it behind him.

What was that about and who were the gnats?

“Ms. Quinn. If you could come with me, I’ll drive you home now.” Russell extended his arm toward the entrance. We’d only gone a few steps before Russell was stopped by another vampire. They spoke quietly for a few minutes. Russell appeared annoyed but listened to the vamp before sending him on his way.

I realized my jacket was still in the office, but there was no way in hell I was knocking on that door and asking for it, so I walked with Russell out the front of the club and into the cold San Francisco night. The line was just as long as it had been earlier. People, dressed for a sweaty club, not a cold night, stamped their feet to warm up.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Quinn. I know this isn’t how Clive wished for the evening to end.”

“It’s okay.” I needed to think anyway. Hollis’s take on my grandfather and uncle had my head spinning as I considered every conversation with Marcus through this new lens, memory and interpretation realigning.

We were just crossing the street when I asked, “Russell, what was that back there? Why was Clive so—”

“Sam.” We both turned to find Clive jogging toward us, my jacket in his hand.

When Clive tilted his head, Russell turned and walked back toward the club. “You forgot your coat,” he said, as he held it open for me to slip on.

“You didn’t have to deliver it.” But I was glad he had.

“I don’t want you to be cold.” He spun me around so he could align the bottom and zip me in. “There.” He grabbed my hand and led the way to his car. “I’m taking you home.”

“But I thought—”

Clive opened the passenger door. Eyes still sparking with anger, he nevertheless gentled his voice and movements for me.

When he slid in and started the engine, I put my hand on his arm. Taut, he vibrated with rage. “I’m sorry. Whatever happened back there that made you so angry, I’m sorry it interrupted our dance.”

Clive turned to me, his gray eyes glowing like fog in the moonlight. His expression softened, anger fading in the charged stillness. “Me, too.”

His hand left the steering wheel and brushed lightly over my jaw. Fingertips holding me in place, he leaned forward, slowly, inexorably, giving me time to stop him. “So beautiful,” he breathed.

I closed the distance. Clive’s mouth melded to mine, as his fingers dove into my hair. Gentle, tentative, exploring kisses rained down on me. This couldn’t be real. It was a lovely dream from which I would all too soon awake.

He nibbled along my jaw and then kissed a spot behind my ear that pulled a gasp out of me. I could feel him smile as he dragged his lips down my throat. Hot, open-mouthed kisses in the crook of my neck tickled and soothed, creating champagne bubbles in my blood.

“Clive?” I could barely hear my own voice over the hammering of my heart. This man, at once terrifying to the world and yet so gentle with me, was more than I thought I could ever have in this life.

He dropped kisses on my eyelids and cheekbones. “Hmm?” His hand slid around my waist, finding a strip of exposed skin to caress, sparks trailing from his fingertips.

“Could you…” Oh, my. His tongue skated over the shell of my ear before he nibbled at the lobe. Internal muscles clenched as he found a pulse point and sucked.

“Could I?” Twin needle points glided down my throat, and I lost my breath, lost my name. Internal tectonic plates converged, tremors overloading my system.

“Uh.”

He leaned back, eyebrows raised, a soft smile playing on his lips as he waited. “Could I?”

“Kiss me again?” I knew my face was flaming, but he didn’t laugh.

His mouth came down on mine with a ferocity and passion I hadn’t expected. My whole body went up in flames. I wanted his hands on me. Everywhere. His tongue slid along my own, and my brain functions shorted out. Reaching, I gripped his arm, his biceps flexing as I pulled him closer. I never wanted this moment to end.

His hand slid up my thigh, clutching my hip, fingers finding the hole in the back of my jeans, as he deepened the kiss, a growl in his throat. It was perfect and endless and over too soon.

Something in the car buzzed in a relentless rhythm. Clive cursed and then pulled a phone from his pocket. He contemplated it for a moment and then squeezed. The tortured sounds of metal and circuits being crushed filled the car.

“Let’s get out of here.” He turned over the engine and took off. Something to the right caught his eye, and his expression darkened.

Exhaling slowly, I took advantage of the distraction to cool my blood. It was more than I’d ever dreamed. In private, unguarded moments, I’d fantasized about kissing Clive, something dark and yet chaste. He was gorgeous and thrilling and way out of my league. I’d never thought anything could happen. I mean, come on. A scarred book nerd in sagging clothes wasn’t anyone’s fantasy.

And I’d have been okay with that. I’d contented myself to a quiet life of books and booze, with the occasional vampire-fueled daydream, but now everything had changed. The safe, predictable life I thought I’d lead had been upended. I was terrified, and yet felt little sorrow over watching that old life fade away.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I have some business to take care of. If you hear I’ve wiped out the entire nocturne, it probably won’t be true.” Clive downshifted as he drove up a steep hill. He checked traffic in both directions, before gliding through the intersection and powering up the next hill.

“It’s okay.” It’d take a few hours for my breathing to return to normal anyway.

“It’s really not. I apologize for stopping the way I did.” He reached over and held my hand for a moment. “Some of my kind need to be beaten within an inch of true death.”

“What’s going on?”

“Too many people feel they have a say in how I live my life. I am Master, not— Sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you for quite some time. I wanted it to be perfect.”

“It was.”

Grinning, he shook his head. “Before the cursing and phone crushing?” His gaze darted to me and then the road. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Clive, you said you have someone who could trace a spell for the wolves. Why aren’t we using that person to trace the vision back to the source?”

“He tried. I was talking about Dave,” he said, as he turned toward the Land’s End parking area.

“My Dave? He can trace spells?”

“Dave can do many things. I’ll send him out. If he has the same trouble with the pack lands that he does with you, they may be connected.” He pulled to a stop at the top of the stairs leading down to The Slaughtered Lamb.

“I’ve been thinking about that. What if it’s all connected? What if the women we found in the bay were being tortured to feed the demon working with the sorcerer who keeps trapping me in visions?” What I didn’t understand, though, was why? I’m nobody, just a bookish bartender. Why would anyone put so much effort into killing me?

“We’ll figure it out. Remember, no wandering off in the middle of the night. Lock your wards down tight. Don’t go out into the bay, no matter what the lure. Call me if anyone or anything tries to hurt you.”

“How? You just crushed your phone.”

He paused for a moment, considering the crushed metal. “I’ll have a replacement tonight.” Leaning over, he kissed me soundly before opening my door. “Off you get. I’ve got vampires to discipline.”