Chapter 1 #2
A movement at the edge of the dance floor caught his eye, and was gone just as quickly.
At first he saw nothing out of the ordinary, just humans grinding lewdly against each other, hyped up on alcohol and vampire blood, attempting to ease the loneliness of their short lives.
But Kohl knew this place like the back of his hand. Something wasn’t right.
He signaled to Andrew and wandered over to the far end of the bar, less crowded now, and searched for whatever it was that had raised a flag.
A second later, the flash of the strobe lights glinted off a shiny, black barrel.
And then again on the other side of the club.
Human eyes wouldn’t have caught it, but Kohl had a…
gift…of eyesight, if one could call it that.
And he knew immediately what he had seen.
Before the first shooter had a chance to squeeze the trigger, he was over the bar and across the room, his only thought being to protect Devon.
Fire razed his hip, and he hissed in pain as a bullet seared through the muscle and out the other side, just missing the bone.
He barely flinched. His focus centered on getting to the woman. To Devon.
He was at her side before the sounds of gunshots registered to the dancers over the music.
Without pause, Kohl tackled her to the floor, yelling at her to stay down when bodies began falling around them.
Then he tucked her beneath his body and crawled over to one of the sitting areas, dragging her with him.
She was tall for a woman, easily five ten or so, but with his size, he covered her easily.
Flipping one of the round tables over and using it as a shield, he barricaded them in the corner.
The tabletop was made of armored steel, to be used specifically for this purpose.
Devon huddled behind it with her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands covering her ears as people screamed and ran over each other, trying to get to the exits to avoid the barrage of firepower exploding from the rifle barrels.
Bullets ricocheted around them, and he pushed her head down, both to keep her safe and to keep her from seeing exactly what it was that was trying to protect her.
The beast inside Kohl stirred and woke. The one he tried so hard to suppress.
It was bad enough his fangs were exposed and aching to tear through flesh.
He didn’t need to fight the beast, too. But try as he might to resist it, his blood burned hot as blue fire, and his skin felt simultaneously loose and tight as chaos exploded around them.
The smell of human blood filled his nostrils, feeding his hunger.
He wanted to help the other victims, but to try and do so would expose him for what he was, would expose all of them.
It was bad enough he’d just sprinted from one side of the club to the other in a second’s time or less.
The place was small, but it wasn’t that small.
He could only hope the shooters were enough of a distraction that no one had caught him on their phone cameras as anything more than a blur, if it managed to pick him up at all.
More gunfire came on the scene, short pops muffled by silencers only vampires would be able to distinguish among the screams and music, and he knew the club’s owners had arrived.
The shooters didn’t stand a chance. He just had to wait it out.
Wrapping his arms around Devon, he hunched over her trembling form, protecting her as much as he could with his body.
Her scent filled his lungs, different now, tinged with the fear and horror that kept her frozen beneath him.
Kohl shivered, his throat burning and his fangs straining with delight at the prospect of her taste.
But he clamped down on his instincts, maintaining control on his hunger, concentrating on keeping the beast at bay.
When it was all over, the sudden silence was nearly as deafening to him as the chaos had been moments before. Voices came to his ears, speaking in low tones. Voices he knew well. And he moved the table out of the way so he could stand.
Four vampires surveyed the results of the shooting, guns at their sides, checking the bodies for life. The gore didn’t faze them. One or two of them had done much worse during a casual night out on the town.
Bending down, Kohl touched Devon lightly on the back, gently trying to soothe her trembling.
“It’s finished, Devon. It’s all clear. Here,”—he slid his hand down her arm— “let me help you up.” He knew by staying near her she would see him as he was, but there was no avoiding it.
He couldn’t just run away and leave her to the mercy of the coven.
The Master wouldn’t care what was done with her.
But Kohl did, and he needed to make sure she got out of there all in one piece.
Devon took his proffered hand and allowed him to haul her to her feet. Her eyes shot from one bloody body to the next, then to the holes in the walls and the overturned tables and chairs, taking in the destruction around them with wide eyes. “Oh, my God.”
Someone turned off the music and flicked on the lights behind the bar, and Kohl quickly turned his face away, hiding in the shadows.
She touched him on the forearm, her fingers digging into his skin. “Thank you.” Her voice shook, and she cleared her throat. “Thank you for protecting me. Or I’d probably be lying...” He heard a sob catch in her throat.
His skin tingled where she touched him. Covering his fangs with his lips, ignoring the prick of pain as the points jabbed into the soft flesh of his mouth, he covered her hand with his and gave her a nod.
Devon zeroed in on his eyes, her tears abating by the distraction. She became very still, her full lips parted on a quick inhale.
Fuck. His eyes. He’d forgotten about his eyes.
“Kohl.”
Hawke, the coven’s second oldest vampire, handed his pistol to one of the bouncers and came walking toward them, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. In spite of his age, his physical appearance was that of a man in the prime of his life.
His expression was grim as he reached out a hand to introduce himself to Devon. “Hello…” He let his sentence trail off, and looked at her expectantly.
She blinked and released Kohl’s arm, her attention successfully averted. “Devon,” she said. Her voice still shook, but only slightly. “My name is Devon.”
“Devon,” Hawke repeated. “What a lovely name. I’m Hawke. Are you hurt?”
Kohl quickly scanned her body, looking for injuries. He hadn’t even thought to check. She could be in shock. Her dress was dusty from the floor, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.
“No, I seem to be fine. Thanks to Kohl.” Her eyes lingered for a moment too long on his face before she turned back to Hawke.
He wished she wouldn’t study him like that. He had a feeling she saw way too much. Much more than his physical appearance.
Hawke snapped his fingers, and Andrew came forward.
“Please call Devon a cab and see that she gets safely into it.”
“I have my car—” she began.
“I’ll have it returned to you tomorrow. I don’t think you should be driving after such a traumatizing evening.”
“But, what about the police? Don’t I need to stay to give a statement? I think I got a pretty good look at one of the shooters.”
“The shooters are dead now.” Hawke swung his arm in a wide circle, taking in the pile of bodies leaking all over the floor. “As are most of our patrons, unfortunately.” He caught both of Devon’s hands in his, effectively capturing her attention again.
Kohl’s eyes fell to their joined hands and he exposed his fangs with a hiss. Hawke was his friend, but he didn’t like him touching her.
Hawke’s eyes flicked over to him before returning to Devon’s face, and he released her hands.
“Let us get you safely home. It’ll ease my mind after all that’s happened tonight.
We’ll handle the police. If anyone asks, just say you left before this all went down.
There’s no need for you to be involved.”
Even though he’d let go of her hands, Hawke held her eyes with his, extending his influence over her just enough to keep her calm and get her to do what he wanted.
Kohl clenched his teeth. He’d witnessed this game before, and he knew it was necessary, but he didn’t like him in her head any more than he liked him touching her.
Her eyes glazed over. “Okay,” she agreed amiably.
Hawke waved Andrew forward. He was already on his phone, calling for a driver.
Though the fire in his blood had cooled somewhat, Kohl was still fighting the effects of the heavy scent of blood. More so than the others. It was a never-ending battle for him.
He needed some air.
“Will you walk me out?”
He looked down at Devon, surprised by her request, then over at Hawke.
His friend took in his appearance, assessing where his head was, and gave Kohl a nod. “Help Andrew see her off. We’ll talk after.”
“I’ll be right back,” Kohl said. Placing his hand on Devon’s lower back, he escorted her around the ones who had fallen and out the back door. She obediently went with him, barely glancing at the gore around her.
The night was dark, but the motion light lit up a twenty-foot perimeter.
Kohl didn’t need it, but proper lighting was an integral part of the illusion of the club.
He peered into the shadows and smelled the air, assuring they were alone before he let Devon join him outside and allowed the door to shut behind them.
The human’s New Year had just passed, and it was actually pretty cold for central Texas.
The bare branches of oak trees reached toward the dark sky with skeletal fingers, their trunks kept warm by the smaller cypress and cedars.
The grass was dead and straw-like, interspersed with clumps of prickly pear cactus.
Devon walked past him, then stopped and spun around. Calm radiated from her. Hawke’s influence. And for once, Kohl was glad of his interference.