entered the nightclub and started searching for Aston.
The music ended just as he pushed through the entry. Teeming crowds of young patrons clustered near the door, assessing him as he made his way through their mass. He strode forward into the wide room, confident in the fact that he looked somewhat similar to those gathered there and therefore didn’t draw any unusual attention to himself. Once he had fed his complexion flushed and took on the appearance of a normal human male. He could move around freely amid the mortals without suspicion.
He searched the sea of heads for Aston, his gaze traveling over the numerous males at the bar and coupled with attractive females at the scattering of tables and booths. The loud music started up again, disrupting his hearing of conversations near where he stood. He decided that Aston wasn’t in the club and turned to leave.
A hand appeared suddenly on his arm, grasping his coat sleeve. He paused, looking first at the hand then following the arm up to a naked shoulder. His gaze traversed to a pair of fleshy tits poking seductively against the filmy bodice of a slinky evening gown. Pert nipples peaked from the fabric tauntingly. He smiled as his gaze raised upward, following a most enticing throat and finally rising to view an exquisite female face.
“Like what you see?”
Her voice was soft and sultry. Jarharis smiled wider and covered her hand with his. She was the first female vampire he had seen in a long time. The chill of her hand pressed into his palm, warning of her undead state. He locked gazes with her.
Does she know I’m undead? Or does she know that I’ve identified her?
A female vampire often sets her sites on mortal man—thus her attachment to Jarharis seemed puzzling. She was, perhaps, a new turn, or was she trying to set a trap for him? He decided to give her a few minutes of his time and see if he could find out what she was up to. “Very much.”
“Want to buy me a drink?”
His eyebrows quirked upward. Vampires didn’t often consume liquor, not to his knowledge. Perhaps she was merely trying to get him alone with her little ploy.
“Sure.” He led the way to an empty table near the rear of the room and held a chair for her. Almost on cue, a waitress arrived and the woman ordered a mixed drink. Jarharis slid into a chair across the table and pinned his eyes on the female. Did she belong to Aston—as his other encounter in a nightclub had? He resisted the urge to ask the question.
“I haven’t seen you around. You must be new in town.” She stared at him, her red lips pursed, her lacquered nails toying with the stem of her glass.
“I haven’t seen you around either,” Jarharis countered, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table before him. “Do you come here often?”
“Only after I’ve fed.”
He leaned back in his chair and smiled across the table at her. Well, she certainly wasn’t setting a trap for him—else she wouldn’t have confessed to being a vampire so soon.
“Who are you?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
She stared at him, her lips pressed together. “My name is Tanya Sills.” She pulled in a long breath. “Until last week, I was happy being a newspaper reporter. Then I met Aston and the bastard ruined my life.”
A look of sorrow and hatred filled her dark eyes. Jarharis suddenly identified with her on a different level. He glanced over his shoulder as the music ebbed then ended, leaving the room in virtual quiet despite the mass populating the interior.
“Why are you telling me this? I can’t be of any help to you.”
She shrugged both shoulders. “I guess I just need someone to talk to. I saw you come in the bar and thought—” Her words broke off and she stared at Jarharis , imploring.
Jarharis shook his head. “I know who Aston is, but other than that I have no association with him. I’m not one of his lackeys.”
“He has many who serve him.”
Perhaps she could shed some light