Page 2 of The Vampire’s Hunter (Rogue Brotherhood #2)

2

T he neon red lights were a nice touch, if a bit, expected.

Corbin Blackwell surveyed the club he owned with a distant disinterest, his phone buzzing in his pocket for the umpteenth time that evening. The music which beat through The Blood Rose’s speakers was incessant, the sound punctuated only by the clink of amber lit glasses and the occasional shout of laughter from the sweat-covered crowd below. To his right, the club’s designer droned on about the latest update and renovation, her voice blending in with the din as Corbin’s phone buzzed once more.

He let out a harsh sigh. “If you’ll excuse me...”

Brow pinched, Corbin pulled the infernal device from his pocket, reading the array of messages flashing across the screen.

Cassandra: Where are you?

Cassandra: I said I was sorry.

Cassandra: Corbin, pleeeease. *pouty face*

Cassandra: I promise I’ll be nicer next time, if you get me that dress I want. *heart eyes*

Cassandra: Corbin?

Cassandra: Corbin??

Cassandra: CORBIN?!?! *angry face*

Cassandra: Fine. If you’re going to be an asshole, then forget it…

Corbin swallowed down a thinly veiled sneer. As far as he was concerned, there was only one asshole in this situation, and for once, it wasn’t him.

Huffing, he quickly pocketed his phone again.

“Sir?” The interior designer to his left probed, drawing his attention once more.

She was a heavy-set lesbian artist with a flair for fashion and color. Not uninteresting for a human, if a bit droll.

Corbin lifted a brow. “Pardon?”

“I said, are the lights not to your liking?” she repeated.

Of course. Professional as ever. All his people were.

Even if he was feeling far from it.

Corbin drew another sip of his whiskey, scanning over the club once more as he contemplated the question at hand. Tonight, the atmosphere inside The Blood Rose’s Chicago location was hot and stuffy, filled to the brim with one-too-many sweaty bodies, though not enough to break fire codes, but the red neon lights did add a subtle erotic touch.

“The lights are lovely. Thank you,” he said, flashing a charming smile he didn’t at all feel, though one he knew, no doubt, would appease.

“Don’t mind him, Alex. He just has blue balls, because he’s dumped his latest plaything, that’s all.” A large hand suddenly clapped him on the shoulder.

Corbin scowled, his eyes darting to Kharis, his so-called friend. “Can we please not talk about my balls in polite company, or Cassandra for that matter?” He turned to the designer once more. “That’ll be all for now, Alex. Thank you.”

The designer nodded, accepting her cue to leave.

Once they were alone, Kharis shot him an incredulous look. “Why come in tonight, if all you’re going to do is sulk?”

“Does it look like I’m sulking?” Corbin lifted a brow, before he turned back toward the dance floor, watching the controlled chaos on the level below. A new song had come on, some electronic beat or another that the humans inside the club went wild for.

Kharis waved a hand in dismissal. “You’re always sulking these days. Normally, you drink me under the table.”

Corbin lifted his glass of whisky to his lips, the amber catching like fire in the light of the club’s crimson glow. “Normally, I don’t have plans in the morning.” He took another generous sip. “And I’m not sulking. I’m working . You should try it sometime.”

Kharis frowned, clearly unconvinced. “Is this really all over that bloody siren then?”

Corbin didn’t bother to look at the other vampire, rubbing his brow, before he took another sip. “For what it’s worth, Cassandra was a mutual decision.” Not that his sex life was anyone’s else’s business. Underboss or otherwise.

“In other words, you got bored with her?” Kharis let out a harsh bark of a laugh, easily distinguishable despite the thumping music.

The ancient Greek knew him all too well.

A round of shrieks sounded from a drunken bachelorette party, shrill and raucous.

“Wouldn’t you?” An unamused smirk crossed Corbin’s lips.

Cassandra had been fun while she lasted, but while sex with the fiery siren had been… adequate, her constant demands that he drape her in finery like she was his mistress had quickly become tedious. Sirens were greedy, tiresome things. Hungry for adulation and little more.

He should have learned his lesson from Odysseus.

Still chuckling his amusement, Kharis joined him overlooking the balcony of the club’s second floor. The human bachelorette was throwing back a neon green shot now, swaying.

“All I’m saying is, for a man about to have everything he wants, you seem awfully melancholy.”

Corbin shrugged, swirling his drink. “I find myself increasingly bored these days,” he admitted.

Kharis let out an undignified snort. “Of course, you do. You’re about to lose your favorite pastime.”

“Which is?” Corbin grumbled.

Kharis only shook his head at him. “Revenge is supposed to taste sweet, my friend.”

Corbin scoffed. “Revenge is a poison no sane man would drink, and yet, here we are.”

“No one ever dared call you sane, old boy.” Corbin felt more than saw Kharis hesitate, before the other vampire lifted one full, dark brow. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

Corbin cut him a biting look.

Kharis lifted his hands in surrender, clearly recognizing he’d pushed too far. “I’m only trying to help, that’s all.”

“My feet are not cold,” Corbin said, punctuating each word with his lack of amusement as he watched the bar below. One of the club’s many bartenders was lighting a line of pink martini drinks aflame. “No colder than your bed each night,” he mumbled.

“Now I know you’re sulking! It’s the only time you bother to insult me,” Kharis protested.

His friend fell silent for a moment as he took a sip of his drink, lowering his voice though they were already alone. Some discussions were only meant for whispers.

“And the distraction you need to keep Lucien busy? Have you found it yet?”

Corbin didn’t deign to answer.

Kharis may have been his friend, but he wouldn’t be managed.

“Fuck, Corbin,” Kharis swore, his face growing suddenly serious. “You know you can’t dazzle your way out of this one?”

“You should know better than anyone that I can dazzle my way out of anything.” Corbin cast his friend a sidelong glance. “And I’m working on it.”

Kharis scoffed. “In other words, we’re fucked.”

“I said, I’m working on it.”

“Well, work faster.”

This time, Corbin didn’t hide the scowl that pulled at his lips. “If you came here simply to nag me, Kharis, then why don’t you—”

Without warning, a shout sounded from the far side of the club below, drawing Kharis’ attention. His friend’s gaze shot to the downstairs floor, before he let out a low wolf whistle, instantly enthralled. “Well, well, well, would you look what the cat dragged in.”

Unamused, Corbin followed Kharis’ gaze to scuffle below, something the club’s bouncers would no doubt take care of, though from the amused way Kharis’ smile lit, his friend appeared as if he were a cat who’d been gifted a rather large blow of cream.

“I believe your night just got far more interesting.” Kharis smirked.

Corbin’s gaze fell to the scene before him, his eyes quickly locking onto Kharis’ target and staying there for a moment more. In an instant, a low growl rumbled in his throat, his fangs aching. He swallowed down a curse.

What the fuck was Dani doing here?

He scanned the human woman near his dance floor from head to toe. The black dress. The lean legs. The subtle curved form. Tonight, the gold undertones in her blond hair pulsed red beneath the club’s crimson glow. Instantly, Corbin’s cock stiffened.

To say Dani Harper was beautiful was an understatement.

She was the kind of ethereal beauty that every man wanted to know, to possess, to own, because what man, what vampire, could resist a woman who was so beautiful, so doe-eyed and innocent that she might as well be a lamb brought to slaughter? Who among them didn’t desire to take that kind of womanly innocence and claim it as his own? To twist and corrupt it?

It was in their fucking natures.

A woman like Dani aroused the predator in all of them.

Him more than most.

His eyes fell to the vampire across from her, the one clutching her hand as she fruitlessly attempted to pull away. Obviously, the message he’d given her to get gone and stay gone hadn’t been clear enough when he’d saved her once before. When he’d had to painstakingly extract her from Cillian’s clutches, putting his own neck, his own goals at risk.

If there was one thing Dani was reliable for it was waltzing into the most dangerous of situations with little more than a tender-hearted smile on her face, floating through life, as if she were waiting for him to swoop in and save her as he had dozens of times before.

The woman lived to find trouble.

And yet…

Somehow, he always found her.

What exactly did that say for his character?

“It looks like someone’s no longer waiting around in hopes for you, old boy.”

“Shut up, Kharis.” Corbin was already moving, his eyes falling to Zane, the vampire who attempted to pull her close, despite Dani’s resistance.

Every bloodsucker in the room was eyeing her.

Forget sirens. Dani’s blood called to them, more than most.

“I think I may have just found my distraction,” Corbin muttered over his shoulder as he descended the second-floor stairs, his eyes flashing red and not from the club lights above.

Behind him, Kharis laughed. “With that look, I’m not confident you won’t drain her yourself before morning.”

Corbin was already half-way across the club toward her, before he grumbled in answer, “You and me both.”