10. Yannis
Ifollow on Hale’s heels like a puppy. His cologne is subtle, but it smells so amazing I want to lick him just to see if his skin tastes as good as his scent. My body is tingling from being close to him, and it’s only getting more intense the farther we walk into the club.
“I’m a greedy lover.”
The words play over and over in my mind, my brain tempting me to blurt out “show me,” which makes zero fucking sense. Sex has never been a huge deal to me, not like it seemed to be to my peers. I like it, but it doesn’t dominate my thoughts and actions on a regular basis. Being naked with another person feels good, coming feels good, kissing definitely feels good, but it’s never been the fireworks and butterflies other people talk about. At least, not in my experience.
Hale makes me wonder what a greedy, masculine lover would be like. Would he make the first move? Could I sit back and bemade love to instead of initiating the interaction? Would I like that?
“Here we are,” Hale says, interrupting my wild thoughts. “We call these the Pain Rooms.”
“P-pain?”
He nods, pushing open another leather-clad door. This room is white marble from ceiling to floor. On the walls are what look like torture devices, and in the center of the room is a large platform covered in black plastic.
“For our more extreme guests,” Hale continues. “Those who are into blood play, pain play… intense games. These rooms—there are two—are unsupervised but come with the few rules the club has. Only previously vetted patrons can enter, those with proven track records. We try hard to ensure that everyone who enters Lair leaves relatively unscathed.” He turns to me. “But lust is a powerful drug, able to break even the strongest of wills. There’s a protocol should injury or death occur.”
“Death?”
He nods. “Sadly, yes. Though infrequent, fortunately. Remember, we’re not dealing with your average person here.”
“Right. I remember.” Trust me. I can’t forget it. “Are most of the patrons vampires?”
“Yes, though in the past two years, we’ve seen an increase in other species. As far as the eastern United States is concerned, we’d like to be the place where supernatural beings come for fun. We’re getting there. Every now and then an unsanctioned club will pop up, usually ending with the Orpheus boys forcibly shutting it down when trouble arises, and it always does.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Unprovoked violence in the surrounding areas. The point of Lair is to give the supernatural community a place to be themselves safely. The mortals who come here do so of their own accord in most cases, and therefore it stops random hunting and violence toward unsuspecting citizens.”
“Is violence part of being supernatural?”
Hale glances away for a moment before returning his intense gaze to me. “Remember when I told you that society’s moral compass doesn’t really apply to supes?”
“Yes.”
“So, to society it would look like violence, but to a demon, fae, vampire, or even some shifters, it’s just life. It’s survival. It’s… their inherent nature.”
“I understand. But here at Lair, they won’t hurt someone for no reason?”
“Correct. If they get out of line, they’re dealt with.”
I blow out a breath, releasing the tension in my chest. “Cool.”
“Come. Let me show you the rope room.”
We exit the torture palace—yep, that’s what I’m calling it—and head down another short hallway. This place is much bigger than it seems from the outside. We pass through burgundy velvet curtains to a room I feel myself relaxing in immediately.
On the walls are colorful silk ropes and scarves. There are lots of pillows, a bed, and a huge metal apparatus that looks like an incomplete swing set.
“What is that thing?”
“It’s used for suspension,” Hale explains. “I’m not well versed in all the terminology, but it’s a beautiful art form to watch. While ropes are also a type of bondage, they attract a different audience, so we separate them from the Leather Room. We do have exhibitions here a few times a year though. Gorgeous.”
I walk over to the wall and delicately touch a purple silk rope. “It seems nicer than the leather and whips.”
Hale chuckles. “It is. If you’d like to see some of it, search Shibari on the internet.”
“I’ll do that.”
“One last room.” He takes my hand, and the contact between us makes my stomach flip. “I meant to ask you, would you like me to point out what everyone is?”
“Huh?”
“Demon, vampire, etcetera?”
“Oh.” I let that question bounce around my head for a moment before landing firmly on my answer. “No. I think it’ll be easier for me if I don’t know. Maybe I’ll change my mind, but right now I kind of want to act like everyone is normal. I mean, mortal.”
Hale pauses, not turning to me, but then he continues. “Very well.”
“Is that the wrong answer?”
“There isn’t one. Whatever you feel comfortable with is fine.”
We enter the main part of the club again, crossing the space and going down a hall on the other side of the bar where Tiago is restocking glasses. He winks at me but continues his work. What is he? Mortal or not? There must be a lot of mortals working here too.
“How did you come to work here?” I ask.
“I was offered the job by Yves Orpheus. The man I told you about.” He pauses in front of a solid wood door. “I was new to the city and needed an occupation. He thought I would do well here.”
“And you like it?”
“Oh yes.”
When he opens the door and steps inside, I follow him, but then I stop in my tracks. The room is dimly lit and covered in deep red velvet, but that’s not the startling part. It’s filled with coffins of all shapes and sizes.
“The Coffin Room,” Hale announces, as if I couldn’t put that together. “Only for vampires, obviously, wishing to experience the old ways.”
“Old ways?”
“What do you know about vampire lore?”
“I’ve watched Interview with the Vampire about fifty times.”
Hale chuckles. “Then you’re familiar with the idea of sleeping in coffins. Modern vampires don’t really do this. It isn’t necessary, but it’s fun and cheeky for mortals. Be warned, you’ll never know what to expect in this room. Usually there will be vampires feeding.”
“Feeding. Drinking blood?”
“Exactly. Oh, speaking of. I should show you the donor area. We’ve only just finished it.”
We leave the coffin room and return to the main club. Near the back, on the far side away from the bar, Hale pulls back another curtain. It’s a small space with a few chairs and loveseats. On one wall is a table stocked with cookies, fruit, and crackers next to a fridge.
“We’re still working it out, but we have a tentative plan. Mortals can either donate independently, which means a club representative will prick them and draw their blood into a container. That is used for a variety of things, from lacing drinks to helping undernourished vampires. It happens with the newly turned sometimes.”
I nod as if that explanation makes any kind of sense to me.
“And of course, we have assisted donors who will be accompanied by vampires who will feed directly.”
Now that I do understand. “But the person isn’t killed or harmed like in the movies?”
“No. It’s a myth that vampires need to kill in order to eat. The newly turned sometimes go too far, but that’s just about learning their limits and controlling impulses.”
“That’s good. I mean that people aren’t hurt.”
Hale smiles. “You’ll work the main club for now. It’s the best way to get used to this environment. If you’re ready, we can start learning the system. Unless you have questions about what you’ve seen so far.”
Do I have questions? Fuck yeah. Too many to even make sense of. “Maybe later.”
“Are you afraid?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s new, obviously, but I’m more curious than anything.”
“Good.” Hale closes the space between us. His breath fans across my face and I react by shivering. “You’re safe, Yannis. I’ll always be near you. All you have to do is say my name and I’ll come.”
I gaze into his hypnotic eyes, and my mind races. I want to touch him somewhere, anywhere, maybe even kiss him. After my shower session and my reaction to him in person, there’s no way I can deny that I’m attracted to him. What do I do about that?
Should I tell him? Kiss him? How does a guy let another guy know he’s down for… something?
“I sense you have something on your mind,” Hale says. “You can ask me anything.”
I open my mouth, but no words come. After a second, I exhale slowly. “I think I’m just processing stuff. I’m good.”
“If that changes, you’ll let me know?”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Good.” He smiles. “Okay. Time for the boring stuff.”
Somehow, I don’t think anything in this place can be described as boring.