Ulysses Exposed (Blaire Thorne Book 1) Page 5
“Good.” He paused for a second, opened his mouth and closed it again. There was something in his expression—maybe the lines between his eyes or the stillness of his body—that suggested there was something he wanted to say, but he didn’t.
His ocean-blue eyes glistened, and it looked like there were tiny stars shining in them from where I was sitting. His stare was intense, almost as though he was trying to look deep inside and into my soul.
I blinked and turned away. “Is there anything you want to say to me?” I glanced at him again, matching his frown with my own.
“No, it’s nothing.” He left without another word, leaving me to wonder exactly what it was that he had wanted to say.
With the door closed, I climbed out of the bed, this time leaving the sheet. I showered until I once again smelled like an exotic French woman, and, with the towel wrapped around my body, I stood in front of the cupboard deciding what to wear now that I had all this new clothing.
There was a soft knock at the door and I yelled, “Who is it?”
“Sebastian.”
“You can come in.”
He opened the door and stopped halfway when he saw me. “You aren’t dressed.”
“Still deciding what to wear now that I have so much choice.” I said, pointing to the clothing. “Don’t you find it odd that Léon bought all these clothes for me? Like I would stay here for a while?”
“I have always known him to be generous.”
“I’ll say. I can’t imagine all master vampires being like him. Have you met any others?”
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t want to ask.
“What’s the time?”
Sebastian glanced at his watch. “It’s a little after 7p.m.”
My mouth went slack. “I slept all day?”
“Uh-huh. You needed the rest.”
My shoulders sagged. “Léon told me about the private investigator.”
“Kit’s good. We use him all the time. I’m sure he will find something.”
“Especially now that he has my fingerprints.”
Sebastian nodded quickly. “Yes, it will be quicker, and Kit has all the right connections.” His expression softened, and a hint of sympathy entered his voice. “You were recently attacked, and someone cut up your friend. It wasn’t your fault. We will find out what happened.”
“We don’t know that it wasn’t my fault.” My voice sounded strained. I bit my lip and blinked back tears.
He took a step toward me, but I backed away until I was against the bathroom door. He stayed where he was. I didn’t want to be comforted; I wanted to feel anger instead of sadness. What I needed was to change the subject.
I swallowed hard and said. “What are we doing tonight?” I smiled, but the corners quivered.
“It’s Friday. Almost everybody goes to the club.”
I looked at what he was wearing; black jeans with a black dress shirt.
“Do you feel like going out?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
I rolled my eyes. “I am not in my twenties. What do kids these days wear to clubs, anyway? And, by the way, you mustn’t be a day older than twenty-five?”
His smile reached his eyes, now ablaze with a hint of mischief. “Twenty-eight.”
I felt old. “Can you picture someone like me going clubbing?”
“You don’t look a day over thirty,” he said, and walked to the cupboard and opened the other door.
There were more pants, more shirts, blouses, and a few dresses hanging within. He grabbed two hangers and handed them to me. “Wear this. I will come back in ten minutes.”
I took the hangers from him and watched him leave. I held one hanger in my left hand and one in my right and lifted them. There was a black satin skirt and a shoe-string black lace top that required a black bra. How could I let a guard tell me what to wear? Then again, he knew the vampire club, and this was probably the dress code. I grabbed black underwear and dressed.
There were still bruises and stitches on my face, but I wouldn’t look too bad in a dark club. I walked out of the bathroom as Sebastian entered the room. As he saw me, he looked surprised, his mouth gaping open.
“Wow. I didn’t think you would wear it, but you look great.”
“There wasn’t really any other shoes, so the knee-high boots will have to do.”
“No, it looks good—it matches.”
“You think the butterfly showing isn’t too much?” I turned around to show him the rather large and obvious butterfly emblazoned on my back.
“It’s a work of art. You shouldn’t be embarrassed or feel ashamed. You have a jacket you can wear if you are cold.”
He grabbed a jacket out the cupboard and handed it to me. I pulled on the waist-length jacket to find it matched the outfit. I didn’t feel too uncomfortable in the lace and satin clothing, and so we headed out.
I followed Sebastian out of the room. Instead of heading along the straight corridor, we took a sharp left. I wanted to say something but thought I might have been mistaken. When I first came out of the room last night for dinner, we took a quick right and then passed the gym and lockers. I stopped and looked up the hallway we had just come from and down the one we were about to walk toward and knew I hadn’t dreamt it. The hallway should be straight.
“Um, Sebastian?”
He stopped and looked back at me.
“I might be going crazy, but why do I think the walls and rooms moved?”
He grinned, flashing bright white teeth, and walked back to me. “That’s because the walls and rooms do change. They rotate every twelve hours.”
“Is that the noises I keep hearing?”
He nodded.
“Why?” I frowned; I had never heard of such a thing.
“To keep people from memorizing the layout of the building, and to ensure that should someone break in, they will most likely get lost.”
“No shit. I am lost.”
He held his hand out for me. “Not with me, you aren’t.”
I hesitated but took it.
“Léon has survived four attempts on his life and suspects it’s the same people each time. He doesn’t know who they are because the people they send after him tend to die before he can question them.”
“You mean he kills them, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why do they want him dead?”
“We have our suspicions.” He didn’t elaborate.
“But you don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s best if we don’t.”
“You seem to know an awful lot for a guard.”
He turned and stared at me with those piercing green eyes. He reminded me of the way Léon had gazed at me earlier in the evening. A look that said he knows so much but couldn’t say a word.
“Don’t frown so much, you will give yourself wrinkles,” he said mockingly, and carried on leading the way.
We took another sharp turn, climbed a flight of stairs and turned into a narrow hallway. We stopped at a door, went through it and ended up in a maintenance closet.
“Uh, where are we?”
“We are here.”
“At the club?”
“Uh-huh.”
CHAPTER 6
SEBASTIAN OPENED THE door, and we entered another hallway with dark blue walls and glow-in-the-dark stars. I felt like I was outside, surrounded by the Milky Way. The air in the hallway was crisp and cool. We walked to the end of the hallway, and Sebastian knocked on a door. He then opened it without waiting for an answer.
Léon was sitting on a black leather sofa, or rather he was elegantly draped over it like he was waiting for someone to take his picture for GQ Magazine. I stifled my urge to giggle.
The sofa was facing a two-way mirror that looked out onto a bar. We could see the bartender serving patrons and people dancing near the DJ stand.
“I’m glad you came,” Léon said.
He said that he was glad, but his expression
was complex and straight-faced. I couldn’t yet tell if he was happy, sad, excited, or angry. His face and body looked as if someone had carved him from stone. Again, there was that flicker of his eyes toward me, his mouth parted slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t or wouldn’t.
To say, ‘thank’s for inviting me’, sounded lame, so instead I said, “Me too.”
That got me a smile from him.
“Is this just a dance club?” I said as I looked out at the bar area and the people swarming around the bartender for a drink.
“It is a dance club among other things.” He smirked. “It’s managed by Roland, who is also the star of the show. If you stay long enough, you might see his performance.”
“What kind of performance is it?”
Léon’s smile curved upward, and his eyes held a splash of mystery.
“Make sure she stays for the show, Sebastian.” He rose in one smooth motion as if pulled by strings and closed the distance between us.
I stepped backward but stopped when I hit Sebastian’s chest behind me. Wasn’t he beside me when we first came in? I hadn’t seen him move.
Léon looked at the man behind me and continued, “I asked Sebastian to bring you here to let you know my private investigator has a few leads and will get back to us soon.”
“Thank you. Did he say when?”
“No, but give him a day or two,” Léon said. His eyes darted to Sebastian behind me, and it wasn’t a friendly stare.
Something swirled in the air like hot water against my skin. My hands became clammy, and something tightened in my chest. The two men crowded me, one so close behind that I had no escape and who could easily rip my body apart with his were-leopard strength and the other who was capable of draining my blood with a single bite.
I wasn’t magical, but I could feel this. Whatever it was, it was beating on, against and through me.
With Sebastian being a were-leopard, their metaphysical display meant that he was powerful. And Léon, Master Vampire of the City, had hundreds, if not thousands, of vampires and were-animals at his beck-and-call with which to feed into his power supply.
As I stood between them, their power hit me. I doubled over, gripped the edge of the sofa and sidestepped away. The air was cooler now that I was outside of their power circle. I inhaled slowly, exhaled and rubbed my hands together.
They were staring at each other fiercely. If I didn’t know better, it appeared as though they were talking mind-to-mind, and it wasn’t a happy conversation.
What were they fighting about?
Sebastian was a security guard for Léon, and he was disrespecting his master.
Léon bunched his fists, and his pale hands appeared ghost-like. Was he going to kill Sebastian?
I glanced from one to the other and said, “What is going on? You look like you want to kill each other.”
Léon stared at me with those ocean-blue eyes that I so frequently became lost in. There was a blank expression across his face that I didn’t understand.
I turned to Sebastian, whose usual grass-green eyes were bleeding to the color of sea-weed. Yup, there was definitely something going on.
Sebastian spoke first. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“Are you so sure?” Léon said, cocking his head to the side with one side of his lips tilted upward. Sebastian remained defiant, his eyes locked upon his master. After a moment, Léon conceded, “Must be my mistake. Then, no, it doesn’t concern you.” His eyes flickered to me again.
“I can leave.” I said, pointing to the two-way mirror through which I could see the club attendees having fun. Maybe it was time for me to join them. I didn’t know what was going on with these two, but I had enough of my own problems.
When neither responded, I headed for the door. With no idea how to find the entrance to the dance floor, I was ready to try every single door until I found a way.
Léon spoke rapidly in French, and Sebastian answered him in French. Whatever was said, it didn’t sound pleasant. Sebastian left the other man and walked behind me as we went through the door, closing it behind him.
Once in the hallway, I wasn’t sure which way to turn, and so I stopped and allowed him to pass. He darted toward a door, and once through it, I found myself in a storeroom filled with liquor and faced with another door which lead out to the actual bar area.
As we entered the club, I noticed immediately how stuffy and hot the air was inside. There were four beautiful ladies dancing in cages that hung from the ceilings. They had strips of leather wrapped around their bodies covering their modesty. They flashed fangs and danced provocatively in their cages.
Sebastian nodded at the bartender, who gave a slight nod in return and carried on tending to his thirsty patrons.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“I don’t know what I like,” I said, which sounded pitiful to me.
“Cocktails are a good start. Wait here.” He went into the bar area and started mixing like he worked there. People tried to get his attention, but he ignored them.
Near the bar was a blonde woman held by a tall man. She tilted her head to one side while he pushed her long auburn hair out of his way. He kissed her neck gently; once, then twice, before opening his mouth to bite. One hand gripped her shoulder whilst the other was wrapped around her waist. She lay loose-limbed in his arms, much like a rag doll. Her head fell backward in pleasure as the vampire fed on her. He stopped, looked at me and smiled, flecks of blood on his lips. He touched his lips and sucked hard on his finger; he was clearly an exhibitionist. I turned my attention elsewhere.
Near the dance floor, a man in tight leather pants and naked from the waist up was dancing in front of a redhead. They shared a few laughs, and he nodded and offered her his neck. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and fed, his eyes fluttering and his mouth parted. He cupped her ass with both hands, and before she stopped, he pushed his groin into hers and held it there until he opened his eyes again. He almost collapsed, but she held onto him until he could walk unaided.
All these humans were more than willing to offer their necks—their blood—for that slice of vampiric heaven.
Sebastian came back with two martini glasses filled with pink liquid.
“What is it?”
He handed one to me. “Take a sip.”
I sipped the cool liquid, finding it sweet and strong. It definitely contained more than one shot of alcohol.
“It’s good.”
“Come, let’s go to our table.”
He led us away from the bar area. As we navigated through the throng of people, I didn’t see either of the couples that I had watched again. We climbed the stairs against the side of the warehouse to the first floor. There were soft sofas, bar stools and a few VIP tables with bouncers guarding a tiny rope that hung on poles that came up to your knees. Surely that couldn’t stop anyone?
Sebastian shook hands with a large African male who looked like he could put you in a coma with one flat-handed slap. He said something to Sebastian, and they both turned to look at me. I glanced around, conscious that they were talking about me. I chose that moment to take another sip of the sweet slush and enjoyed the cool liquid as it went down my throat.
Both men smiled, and Sebastian motioned for me to walk with him to the top area. As we approached, I saw that the space was occupied by numerous people that I had never seen before. Sebastian leaned in close with his mouth near to my ear to make himself heard over the loud music.
“Some are vampires, and some are food; just don’t give into any of their bullshit. And, just remember they are just messing with you. Don’t take them too seriously.”
Great. I might not remember a lot, but I knew that vampires could be tricky bastards who would mind-fuck you till Sunday and make you come back for more. I so did not want to mingle with nasty vamps tonight.
“Just as long as they don’t think I’m food.”
Sebastian didn’t hear. I touched his
shoulder; he stopped and bent his head so that it was close to mine. I went onto my tiptoes, and being near his neck, I could smell the ocean and the scent of citrus mixed with a hint of leaves and grass. And underneath each of those smells was him. My hand held onto his one arm, and I felt his muscles flex as I repeated what I had said, close to his ear.
He laughed. “Don’t worry, they know,” he said, winking.
Sebastian put his hand on the small of my back and started introducing me to everyone as ‘the girl from the alley’ because that’s where they had found me, and they didn’t know what to call me since I couldn’t remember my name.
I heard someone say, ‘Her name is Alley?’
I rolled my eyes at him, but it was funny and I laughed. I guess Alley wasn’t too far off, and I didn’t know what my name actually was, so I could be Alley for now. Otherwise, what could they call me?
The first person Sebastian introduced me to was Jean-René, a vampire with his apéritif—a woman in her early twenties—nestled closely to his side. Jean-René had pale skin and ice-blue eyes, wavy brown hair in need of a trim that curled around his face, and he had a week's worth of stubble. He had a pretty face, but he didn’t look female. He was of average build, similar to that of a swimmer, and he was tall even when seated.
I remembered that when a person turned into a vampire, they would remain how they had looked on their last day of mortality. Despite most vampires having a tendency for meticulousness, I didn’t think that he had shaved much when he was still human.
Jean-René introduced his ‘date’ as Candy, who looked very similar to a lot of other blonde girls with blue eyes who starved themselves to stay skinny.
Next to Candy was Charlotte, another vampire with pale skin and flaming red hair that danced around her shoulders as she spoke and when she laughed. She had crystal green eyes with a dark green circle around her iris and pouty ruby lips. She wore a skintight red dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The man beside her, Mark, glanced at me with large, imploring eyes, pursed lips and a bleeding neck.
Next to Mark was more ‘food’, and she had chocolate-brown skin, a shaved head and long eyelashes. She was comforting Mark by holding his left hand. She smiled at me, and I smiled back at her. I didn’t hear her name as there was a change in DJ’s and the new one put music on with harder, much louder beats. I got Ian’s name; he was the vampire who had his right arm draped over his date. Ian was beautiful in every sense. He had hypnotic blue eyes—the lightest of blues with a ring of darkest blue around the iris—and short, straight black hair. He had a square jaw, full lips, and the straightest nose I’d ever seen. Did I mention he was beautiful?