Fanged Desire (Leyore Coven #3)

Chapter 1

Hunter

Of all the things I could have been doing on New Year's Eve, traipsing through the grimy streets of New York City to meet a pompous elf man was last on my bucket list. The night carried the faint, thumping music of the club I was headed to and I strode through the dark, heels clicking against the concrete with a sound too sharp for my current mood, unable to suppress the grimace tugging at my lips.

In any other circumstance I would have welcomed this opportunity with open arms. Jordan had sent me to bargain, and I lived for negotiations, twisting words and turning on the charm. The cutthroat world of sales was my own personal playground. But this time was different. Elliot Moremont, arrogant half-elf and all-round asshat, had a way of grinding my patience down to dust. Even the thought of his overly elegant, condescending tone made my fingers twitch with annoyance.

But Jordan needed this deal closed. Expanding her enterprise into Elvish territory meant access to markets that had been previously sealed tight, not to mention the elf’s promise of protection from anyone who might interfere. It was a lucrative opportunity, far too valuable to pass up. And it was my job to make sure it happened, even if it meant a night on the town with Mr Snobbery incarnate.

The club loomed into view and the long, snaking line of party goers stretched down the sidewalk in front of me. Rather than falling into line with the mass of bodies jostling to get in I passed them by, nodding to the bouncer at the entrance. The hulking man looked me over and let me pass without a word. Most likely he’d been notified that I was coming, and it would seem my reputation preceded me. I stepped inside and there was a hiss of apprehension from the line of clubbers waiting their turn.

Although I had never set foot inside before tonight, I was all too familiar with the nightclub Micere. It was a notorious spot where humans and supernatural creatures alike came to mingle – although the humans had no idea they were rubbing shoulders with elves, vampires, shifters, and a plethora of other beings whose existence went unnoticed by the denizens of New York. The one cardinal rule: Never reveal what you are, not to any humans, at least. The punishment for breaking that rule was severe, regardless of status or power.

Before I could disappear into the fray of dancers, a shrill voice at my back had me glancing over my shoulder.

“Come on! You know I’m good for it! My friends are already inside!”

I paused, sizing up a small woman with wild curls, glaring furiously at the bouncer. The woman was practically bouncing on her toes, a combination of frustration, desperation, and probably cocaine twitching every line of her posture.

“I told you, no ID, no entry,” the bouncer rumbled, folding his arms and erecting himself like a brick wall in front of her. His patience seemed to be wearing thin, though his expression remained neutral.

I wasn’t in the mood for distractions but the woman, who I suspected was a witch, reminded me of a certain demanding vampire associate. Maybe I was just feeling generous, or maybe I needed a quick win to boost my confidence before dealing with Elliot. Either way, I walked myself back to the bouncer and flashed him a smile.

“It’s all right, you can let her in,” I said, tone smooth, cutting through the conversation like a finely honed blade.

The bouncer’s eyes shifted to mine and I turned on the charm, the barest hint of power threading through my words. “She’s with me.”

It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. And the coercion wasn’t strong – just enough to nudge him in the right direction. The bouncer hesitated, then grumbled something profane and stepped aside. The witch’s eyes widened, her face lighting up as she tottered in after me.

“Oh my god, thank you!” she squealed, darting past me before I could change my mind. “I owe you one!”

I didn’t respond, she was already vanishing into the crowd inside, but a small, satisfied smile touched my lips. Flexing metaphorical muscles had done wonders for my mood, and I found myself slightly better prepared for the impending negotiations.

Stepping into Micere was like crossing into another world, all neon lights and thumping music that had your heart pumping faster than you’d like. The clientele was as diverse as the titillating beats – humans, witches, vampires, and, of course, elves, all mingling together under the cloak of secrecy that the club enforced.

I spotted Elliot immediately. He was lounging on a shiny sofa in the far corner of the room, a glass of something dark and viscous in his hand. His long, ginger hair was dead straight and impossibly glossy, and his beady little bug eyes were fixed on me as I approached. He smiled the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and lifted his glass in greeting.

“Hunter,” the Elven man crooned. “You’re right on time.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” I drawled, sliding into the seat across from him. I made a show of crossing my long legs and leaned back, the impression one of casual confidence that had gotten me this far.

Elliot extended his hand, waving down a waitress scuttling past. “A drink for the lady?”

I kept a smile plastered on my face, but my lip twitched at the overly courteous way he said ‘lady’. The waitress, a slim Elvish woman who looked out of her depths on such a busy night, turned wide eyes on me.

“A Bloody Mary, please.” I gave her a smile, flashing an inconspicuous set of fangs so she knew exactly what I was ordering.

The waitress gave a knowing nod, disappearing into the crowd to fetch the drink. Here, a Bloody Mary didn’t involve tomato juice. At least, not for the vampiric clientele.

I turned my attention back to Elliot, taking in the swanky suit, the golden cufflinks – no doubt imbued with Elven charm, and the way he tapped the toe of one shoe on the ground in time with the beat. Despite his ability to get under my skin, I knew he would be an easy client. The well-dressed ones were always all talk and no backbone. Easy to upend if you know their pressure points.

“So.” I kept my shoulders relaxed, glancing over the throng of dancers in the background. “Jordan tells me you have a proposition for us.”

Elliot’s gaze never left my face as we settled into the rhythm of conversation. The elf was a businessman, so we spoke in the way professionals often did, exchanging pleasantries and thinly veiled barbs as we worked our way toward the crux of the meeting.

Jordan’s business was ever-growing, the ever-expanding line of products as sporadic as the billionaire vampire herself. Flavored blood for the average vampire, as well as High Stakes health and energy products for the average human.

It seemed the elves had also taken a liking to the stuff, so setting up a few new stores on their turf was a widely welcomed idea. But there were a few elves who were vehemently opposed to vampires operating on their turf. That was where Elliot and his shiny shoes stepped in.

“I must say,” Elliot downed the last of his drink and waved for another, “I’m quite flattered that Jordan is willing to work with me. It’s not often that vampires and elves can see eye to eye.”

I shrugged, glossing over the way he referred to Jordan so casually. She was more than just a business associate – she was queen of the Leyore coven, leader of all vampires that called the city their home. “We could make a fortune setting up shop here. Money can’t buy happiness, but it would seem it can buy a truce.”

On the surface, I made sure to be every bit the charming negotiator I was known to be – smiling, laughing at the right moments, and steering the conversation towards an eventual agreement. But inside, my thoughts were elsewhere. I didn’t like Elliot, and the feeling only deepened the longer we spoke. Somewhere along the way the waitress returned with my drink, and I sipped at the crimson liquid while the Elven man prattled on.

As we relayed the terms of our deal – his protection in exchange for a cut of Jordan’s business in the Elvish territory – my eyes drifted to the stage in the center of the club. A group of dancers had emerged, bodies moving in time with the music in a way that was almost hypnotic.

Elliot’s words faded into nothing but background noise as I focused on the dancers. They were stunning, every one of them, sequined fabric sweeping the floor, skin dappled in the dim lighting. I could pick out the Elves from the humans. Their otherworldly elegance, limbs flowing like water, was a dead giveaway.

But it was one dancer in particular who caught my attention. A human.

My eyes locked onto the brunette moving across the stage, cinched corset hugging her waist and highlighting the full curve of her hips. While the others danced like elegance was in their nature, this one moved like dancing was an artful craft. Her body arched to the beat, skin shimmering with sweat and glitter. Every movement was clearly practiced, over and over again until every sultry sweep of her leg was perfect, every sway set to drive the hungry crowd to frenzy. It was captivating, watching her calculate each step with care.

There was a quiet confidence in the way she carried herself, like she was aware of the power her body had over the room but didn’t need to flaunt it, and for a moment I forgot where I was, and what I was there to do.

But Elliot’s voice cut through my reverie and I blinked slowly, tearing my eyes away from the dancer. The absence of the sight of her felt like a small betrayal. I begrudgingly turned my attention back to the elf, forcing a smile as he insisted on ordering a final round to close the deal. It was done. I got what I came for, and I should have felt a sense of victory.

Instead, my thoughts lingered on the stage.

After Elliot excused himself, leaving with a satisfied smirk that made my skin crawl, I hung around a little longer. Considering the win for Jordan’s business a celebration was in order, and I deserved to indulge a little.

Ordering another drink at the bar, I slid my glass back and forth between my palms, eyes crawling back to the stage where the woman was still performing. The music had shifted to something slower, more intimate, and the crowd was transfixed. But the dancer’s gaze had shifted too. Her eyes flitted over the crowd and locked with mine across the room, catching for a brief moment before moving on. I did my best to look impassive, but she clearly knew the effect she had on her audience.

She slid to her knees, rolling hips moving in time with the music, and caught my eye again. Like a fish on a hook I moved closer, taking my drink with me as I strode toward the stage. Satisfied with her power of seduction the dancer looked away again, and loose hazel locks shrouded her face.

But every movement beckoned me closer, drawing me in, until I found myself sitting at one of the tables right in front of her. It was hard not to be intrigued, for the woman’s dance had taken on a more sensual, flirtatious edge, each glance from her coy and teasing.

I smirked, raising my glass in a small toast. All right, I see you.

Maxine often told me that I had the attention span of a goldfish, mind moving from one interest to the next in a heartbeat. But I wasn’t one to get so easily distracted by a couple of flashy dancers in a crowded nightclub. And yet, something about this woman had me captivated. I was here on business, and that business was done. I had the deal in hand and now would be the right time to leave. But I wasn’t quite ready to go yet.

I stayed until the dance was over and took a last sip of my drink, allowing myself a moment to enjoy the unexpected attention before raising my glass with a parting wave. The dancer, spying the gesture, gave a playful smile, dipping her head to acknowledge the silent goodbye. I was close enough to notice the dimples in her cheeks and the dark chocolate brown of her eyes.

I rose from my seat, making my way over to the bar to settle my tab. I wasn’t going to end up indebted to Elliot, no matter how insignificant a few drinks might seem. Elves had a way of making everything come with a price, and I knew better than to accept free gifts in a place like Micere.

While I waited for the bartender to ring up my bill, I glanced back at the stage. The music had transitioned to the thumping, incoherent beat of late-night parties, when everyone is too drunk to care what they're dancing to. The brunette dancer had left the stage and was making her way through the crowd. But she wasn’t alone.

A man – human, judging by the look of him, was following her, clearly drunk and getting far too close. His hands were on her waist, and she was trying to subtly pull away, her body language stiff and uncomfortable as she looked around the room for the bouncer.

My jaw clenched, and the instinct to step in, to do something , flared to life within me. But I couldn’t cause a scene. Not here. Not after sealing a business deal that could ripple out disastrously if things went sideways in a supernatural club like this. But there was always another way.

An idea formed quickly, and before I could second-guess myself, I moved.

I approached the pair with calm purpose, stepping between the dancer and the drunk man. He reeked of alcohol, noticeable even amongst the many scents of the crowded club. My hand slipped into my pocket, pulling out a neatly folded wad of cash. Technically, this was the company’s money – a backup bribe if talks with Elliot went south. But I could pay Jordan back later.

“I’m here for the private session I booked.” I wedged myself between them and shot the woman a smile, pressing the cash into her hand. “I believe we’re late.”

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she caught on and she nodded. “Right! I’m so sorry, I almost forgot! Please – uh – follow me…”

The drunk man blinked, confused. “Hey, wait – ”

I turned my full attention on him, expression softening as I lowered my voice to sweet honey. “I’m sure you understand. Besides, you have somewhere else to be, don’t you?”

The man’s frown deepened for a moment, but then his face slackened. The subtle charm that carried me through life, the ability to push thoughts into the minds of others, had done its work. His eyes unfocused slightly and he blinked again, this time looking more compliant, and I liked him much better that way.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, no problem. I have to… go now,” he mumbled, stepping back and stumbling away into the crowd.

I let out a small breath as I watched him disappear, then turned back to the dancer. She was even prettier up close. “Shall we?”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking up into a smile that was equal parts gratitude and curiosity. “You didn’t have to do that. He’s not the first and he certainly won’t be the last. Not in this place.”

I shrugged, falling into step beside her as she edged away from the crowd. “Maybe not. But I wanted to.”

“Well, thank you.” She glanced at me, a flicker of mischief in her dark eyes. “I saw you earlier while I was dancing. I take it you’re a fan?”

“Maybe I just have an appreciation for the arts.” I feigned nonchalance, eyes sliding back to hers with a smirk.

I watched her study the stack of cash in her hand before those warm eyes met mine again. “This is way too much money for one private session.”

I suppose I could have put an end to things there, paid for one private dance and put the night of indulgence behind me. But something told me one night of watching her dance wouldn’t be enough.

Instead, I gave her a smile, bright enough to blind.

“Keep it as a deposit, I’ll be back to collect soon enough.”