Chapter 22 Asher
EVER SINCE I got home from the office, I’ve felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth until I’m ready to climb the walls.
I can’t stop thinking about what’s happening with Cord.
Is he all right? Did they act on the information Elaine provided? Was the intel accurate?
The not knowing is driving me crazy. I pick up my phone and start to text him a half dozen times and delete it. Whatever he’s doing, it requires his total concentration. I don’t want to be a distraction.
That doesn’t mean I want to sit on my hands and worry all night. I consider going by Lupercalia instead of ordering in, something to take my mind off the situation, but what if Cord shows up here needing help?
No, I can’t live my life that way. I’ll go to the den, feed, and maybe have a drink at the bar. It’ll do me good to be out among people. If Cord needs me, he has my number.
I hail a cab out front rather than bother Benjimen. While it’s true he lives in an apartment I provide in the building, I don’t want him to feel like he’s at my beck and call. I already keep him late enough at the office.
Lupercalia is busy for a Wednesday night, with a line of clients waiting to be served.
I give Esmerelda my name and take a seat in one of the chaises to wait and people watch.
I recognize many of the faces who come and go, some from business and some from various charitable events I’ve attended over the years.
One of them, Bethany Parker, or whatever last name she’s using these days, walks over to me and extends her hand.
“Asher, we haven’t seen you around much lately.”
I ignore the obvious prompt to kiss her hand and offer a terse smile.
Bethany is a shark with an angel’s face.
A ruthless gold digger who’s always working on her next score.
She collects human husbands like some people change shoes, all of them rich with one foot in the grave.
All of them so smitten with her attention that they’re willing to sign over their fortunes to her.
If she aids in their demise, there’s never any evidence implicating her.
It always looks like natural causes. And while the Guild frowns upon such behavior, there’s no actual rule against marrying humans. As they see it, humans die.
She once had her sights set on me after my business became successful, until she learned I don’t swing that way. Now she acts as though we share some sort of blood bond.
“Bethany. Whose life are you ruining tonight?”
She laughs, the sound as fake as her smile. “You’re always such a delight. As if you have any room to talk.”
“At least I’m upfront with my cannibalistic tendencies.”
She pretends to be shocked. “Is your excuse being male, or a businessman?”
“Now, now. If you want to bring gender into this, let’s talk about how you’ve slept your way to your fortune.”
Her eyes grow cold despite her plastic smile. “Charming, as always.”
Esmerelda calls my name, thankfully ending this exhausting exchange.
“Enjoy your evening, Bethany,” I murmur as I stand and brush past her.
“You looked like you could use rescuing,” Esmerelda whispers to me as she points me in the direction of my alcove.
“It was all in hand,” I assure her. “But thanks for the concern.”
She frowns. “I really don’t like that woman.”
I pat her on the arm. “You’re not alone in that opinion.”
Benoit, my donor for tonight, provides a pleasant distraction from Bethany’s presence.
I’ve used him before, and we share a few moments of conversation before and after.
He’d heard about the Code 3 at my apartment and inquires if everything turned out all right.
I assure him we’re tougher than we look and that all is well tonight, though talking about Cord’s injuries brings him back to my mind.
After I finish feeding, I wander down to the club and find a seat at the bar.
At least Lupercalia stocks McCallan, so I order one and turn around to observe the club’s patrons.
The dance floor is about half full and most of the tables around it are occupied.
The shadowy booths beyond offer more privacy for couples with an urge to satisfy or a shady deal to complete.
I’ve conducted both in those booths, recalling with fondness a night several years ago when Cord and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
“Must be a pleasant memory.”
I look up at the man who’s joined me on the adjacent seat. This must be the night for people invading my privacy, though to be realistic, if I didn’t want that I should have stayed at home.
I look at him. He’s tall, darkly handsome, and well-dressed.
He’s also human.
With the exception of donors and my employees, I don’t do human. I don’t care for mixing my food with pleasure. Maybe that makes me a snob, but why temp fate? Besides, I already got my blood fix for the night.
I’d say about half the humans who come into the club have at least a healthy suspicion about us.
There’s a whole subculture of them who entertain a kink of being fed upon.
It helps that there are a lot of vamps who prefer obtaining their blood in the wild, so to speak, rather than go to blood dens, so they find a convenient place to hook up here.
And while Lupercalia doesn’t specifically encourage it, they don’t do anything to discourage it either.
Which seems like a poor financial model, when you consider they’re in the business of providing donors.
But the other reason why I’m not interested in whatever this man is selling is because my mind is already occupied with another.
I try to convey that with my eyes, but this guy is either oblivious or desperate. He leans over closer to me and offers a blinding smile.
“Name’s Sam.”
I stare at him for a minute, then sigh. “Sorry. Not interested.”
His smile fades for a second then he regroups. “Are you sure? Because, I’m clean.”
“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I just want to sit here and enjoy my drink. No conversation, no hookups, no whatever else you think is going to happen here.”
“Why did you come in here if you’re not interested in hooking up?” he asks, his tone suggesting he’s obviously taken offense.
“That’s really none of your business, now is it?”
For Christ’s sake. First Bethany, now this guy. Maybe ordering in would have been the better option.
His face darkens and he looks as if he’s actually going to challenge me, which would be a mistake.
Granted, I’m not Cord, but I can handle myself and I have a decided advantage over this guy.
I can smell the alcohol on his breath, so maybe that’s what’s making him so reckless, but if he’s spent any time in this club, he has to know the consequences of overstepping his bounds in a room full of vamps.
Fortunately the bartender picks that time to wander by, probably reading the situation. I know he’s a vamp and that management doesn’t tolerate trouble of any kind. It’s a sure way to get yourself banned from the whole club, whether you’re human or Clan.
“Everything okay here?” he asks, his gaze fixed pointedly on Sam.
The man looks between us and shakes his head. “This place is too expensive anyway.”
He gets up and stalks off, heading for the exit.
“Sorry about that,” the bartender says. “We get his kind in here a lot lately. They’ve heard rumors and decide they want to see for themselves.”
“Doesn’t the Guild have anything to say about that?”
He shrugs. “When they started letting humans in, it opened up a whole can of worms. Some of them feel like they have power over us. Like we need them.”
I scoff. “There’s literally a blood den upstairs.”
“I know, right?” He shakes his head. “I swear I spend half my time breaking up potential altercations from humans.”
Things have certainly changed since I used to come in here almost nightly to feed. As I recall back then humans were in the minority and only admitted if they were accompanied by a Clan member.
I finish my drink and set the glass on the bar. “You want another one?” the bartender asks.
“No. I think I’ll just head home for the night.”
Where I can drink in peace.
Since it’s only about fourteen blocks, I decide to walk home rather than grab a cab. It’s a nice night, clear and brisk, and the thought of sitting alone in my apartment worrying about Cord doesn’t appeal to me.
I’ve gone about two blocks when I become aware of a presence behind me. Is someone actually following me? I refuse to give them the satisfaction of turning around, and instead duck down the first alley I pass and flatten myself against the wall to see if they go past.
Imagine my surprise when Sam turns into the alley.
He looks around then stops when he spots me, a slow smile curling his lip. Like this is a victory for him.
While we’re not the formidable beings fiction would have you believe, we’re still stronger and faster than humans and have a presence about us when we’re provoked. I call upon that presence now, letting a spark of rage bleed into my eyes.
“Were you following me?” I demand.
He frowns as the first wash of uncertainty clouds his face. “I just thought you might give me another chance, you know, away from the bar.”
I advance on him, pulling on that ancient call to hunger that lives in the heart of all vamps. Despite his superior size, I could easily kill him here, and I let that fact reflect in my expression.
“What part of I’m not interested did you not understand, human?”
I haven’t flexed my baser instincts in a long time, possibly not since my early days after transition, but I have to say I’m finding the rush of power intoxicating. I could see how it would become addictive.
Sam stiffens, looking a lot less confident than he was a few minutes ago. In fact, he’s starting to look like someone in over his head.
I decide to play on that. In a move too quick for him to track, I reach out and snatch his throat, pulling him close as my blood teeth extend.
“Is this what you’re looking for? Did your fantasies include being food for monsters?”
I smile then, letting him see the real me.
I can feel his pulse speed up under my hand. Hear the pounding of his frightened heart. I should stop, let him go and continue on my way, but I’m having way too much fun.
Is this what it was like to hunt for your food in the old days?
Definitely addictive.
Sam swallows against my hand and tries to push me away. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have followed you.”
It takes all my control to release my grip and let my hand drop. “No, you shouldn’t have. Next time I won’t be so forgiving. Now get out of here.”
I watch him scurry out of the alley and smile to myself. That was just what I needed.
The rest of the walk home is disappointingly uneventful. While the flirtation with my inner darkness was a satisfying distraction, it unfortunately awakened another appetite in me.
One only Cord can satisfy.
I have to do something about the fact that he’s never here when I need him.