Just One Taste (13 page)

“Drew, I’m trusting you here and I don’t trust easy. This is a small task and it would behoove you not to screw it up.”

Irritation crosses his face. It’s nice to see he has a backbone.

“I’m not some uneducated rube who will treat the situation poorly. I know I must prove myself in this and I will not fail.”

Good, he gets it.

“Once we get Antonio riled up enough, he’ll probably leave. Either alone or with someone else is anyone’s guess. I don’t anticipate he’d challenge you for her; he’s still undecided on what he wants.”

“Fine, I’ll meet you both inside. What will Olivia look like?”

“She’ll be dressed all in red and has long blonde hair.”

“Okay, got it. We’ll chat again later?”

“Yes, but don’t expect me to have an answer for you about the seethe. I’ll need time to think. One last thing, Drew.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve only been here a week. Think long and hard about your request to join our seethe. There are no other vampires in it but me for a reason, and it is not because I let others leave if they are unhappy.” I stare directly into his eyes and try my damnedest to look mean and uninviting. “It’s a commitment for the rest of your afterlife—however long it may be.”

The air hangs heavy with the blatant threat. Will it be enough to scare him off from his request? I can hope, can’t I?

You couldn’t resist going all spooky and hard-ass on him, could you? Dria, the murder today proves we have some weak spots in our security. Don’t scare away the only applicant!

You know how I feel about outsiders
—
they are best left on the OUTSIDE.

Drew smiles a big sunny grin at me. “Who would want to leave this paradise?” And with that parting remark, he turns and heads towards the east wing, disappearing beyond the French doors.

A smile? Well, damn. That didn’t go as I’d hoped.

I turn to Rafe.
You think using him in a seduction scene tonight is a smart idea?

It was a sound plan when we discussed it earlier. The request to join the seethe means he’ll give the task his all.

Yeah…but…

We’ll talk with him again after the scene plays out. Let it keep till then.

Maybe Rafe will let me touch Drew during our talk. Something’s up with him. I can sense it. I will find out by the end of the night or there will be hell to pay.

Rafe and I stare at the remains of the table in front of us. I liked the piece and am kind of pissed I broke it. I turn to my lover, “What do you really think of Drew?”

“It could be a genuine offer. With all we have going on right now though… who knows?”

Yes, who knows? I take a deep breath to calm down. I have to project a lot tonight to many different people at once and it will help if I can gather myself. This murder has me all over the place—I need to focus my mind. Letting off some power to Rafe earlier was obviously not enough. I bet doing yoga would help. Think I’ll do that when Rafe sleeps tonight.

Rafe and I proceed down the wide landing together toward the lounge. We walk through a set of French doors into an inviting setting resembling a gentleman’s club. The room has game tables and settees, comfortable clusters of furniture and a fireplace on the far wall opposite us.

The fireplace, set between two solid mahogany doors, radiates a soft, warm glow. The heat of the room wraps around me, dispelling the cold from the hallway. We walk quickly through the lounge, heading for the door on the left of the hearth. I spot a few of Salvador’s group and nod a brief hello to them in passing. They trigger images of the tearful Sheba but I don’t see her face among the ones clustered together over an antique whist table.

Remind me, I need to talk to them. Right now isn’t good, but definitely tomorrow morning.

Sure, shall I pencil it in your planner for you, too?
Rafe says.

He knows I don’t own one of those. I always misplace the one notebook and that’s why I have several. I love my lists and checking off the little line items to show I’ve completed something. Gives me a sense of accomplishment and control.

I choose to ignore his shot. It’ll only give him greater satisfaction to know he’s riled me. Rafe opens the heavily carved door; laughing voices rush out to greet us. We enter into an Irish pub-inspired room and keep moving right through the clusters of tables and booths in our beeline for the u-shaped bar on the far wall.

The space is filled with lots of employees who are known to be willing donors.

Some of them are attired in the goth come-and-suck-me style and others dress normally. I recognize a few more risqué-dressed ones as well. I’m betting the last group will be heading over to the attached nightclub next. So far, it looks like a great mix and our guests will certainly find something here to whet their appetites.

Upon spotting us, the bartender, Charlie, sends up his usual hearty Cheers-style welcome. “Rafe! Vivian! What can I do you for?”

Charlie always makes us feel like he’s surprised we came in. His warm, open nature makes him a natural at the job and I’m glad we’ve got him. Rafe answers before I have a chance to.

“Hey Charlie, pour me a Guinness then head off for your break. I’m sure you’re way past due.”

Rafe and I like to take turns behind the bar. It’s a great way to talk to everyone and we get to have fun at the same time.

“Sure thing, man, and thanks.” Charlie slowly draws him the beer in a frost-covered pint glass. He motions to the people in the bar with a tilt of his head. “We’ve got a good crowd so far.” Rafe and I circle behind the bar, glancing around the room at Charlie’s observation.

Off to the left, Drew’s nestled in a corner booth by himself, nursing a red-tinged drink in a flute glass. Antonio’s perched on a stool at the bar alone, with an empty cocktail glass. Joanna sits with Liam and Francesca at a table, their bodies angled toward each other, heads inclined in conversation. Salvador and Theresa are at another booth in the back and I spot four employees sitting together at a table to the right as well.

I wonder if the Natsuhara clan is in the club or if they haven’t ventured out yet this evening. I bet they’re still busy. My mind drifts to the earlier visions in leather and I give a little shake to bring the present back into focus.

Charlie finishes drawing the draft, places the drink by Rafe and takes his leave. “I’ll be back in thirty, ok?”

“Yeah, see you then,” Rafe assures him and picks up his beer. “Thanks.”

Charlie drifts over to the table with employees to sit down. Good time for me to go chat up Salvador about the murder and Sheba, so I head over to his booth.

I reach their table and clear my throat. They are so engrossed with each other I’m not sure he knows I’m standing here.

“Good evening Salvador, Theresa. May I have a moment?”

Salvador glances up from his long stare at his mate’s bare neck and returns my pleasant smile. “Sure thing. Anything for you, Vivian.”

“I need to talk to your people tomorrow. We had an incident up on the second floor and I’m hoping they might have some info for me.”

“Incident?” He raises his eyebrows. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

How much to reveal? Trust has never been my strong point. Ironically, I value honesty above all else. Everyone in this room who’s undead can hear our conversation, if they so desire. Best to err on the side of caution.

“Yes, it is. But now is not the time to bring it up. We can discuss things tomorrow. I noticed Sheba isn’t here. Is she well?”

“Not feeling her best, I think. We’ve had such fun-filled weeks here that some of them are exhausted.” His smile gets wider on some remembered memory.

Knowing his penchant for being a recalcitrant student who must be punished with a cane, I hope he won’t go into details.

“Glad to hear you’re all having fun. I’ll be by your rooms in the morning and chat with whomever is up and about. Thank you.” I nod a good evening to them and return to the bar.

A quick glance around the room reassures me all the customers in the bar are fine, drink-wise. I look down the wood expanse at my next project: Antonio.

Antonio senses my gaze and looks up to meet my eye. “Hey, Vivian, I was just wondering if the blood special on the menu is worth the price.” He’s lost some of the cocky edge he had in the lobby. Good. Maybe my earlier tampering in his room shook him up a bit.

“The guests think so. How about this—if you buy it and don’t agree, I’ll refund you the cost.”

Considering it’s my blood, my real answer would be “yes, of course it’s worth the cost, you fool.” But it isn’t wise to be obnoxious to the guests. The blood delicacy sells for a thousand dollars a shot. The suites here run several thousand a night, so if he wants to know, he can pay and find out. The high price tag discourages the wanna-bes, which is really the point.

I don’t need the young dumb ones, which are often a part of a large master vamp’s entourage, getting high on my blood and acting like fools. That has happened in the past and it’s not pretty.

“Is it really blood from an old vampire?” Antonio asks. “It must be a hard commodity to come by.”

“It wouldn’t cost so much if we could get it easily. You decide.”

Inside, I’m thrilled he may try it. It will make it much easier to send him the illusions later. I glance at my watch; only fifteen minutes till Olivia arrives.
If
she follows my directions. I’d like it if everyone did what I said. But I can’t control all of them all the time—even if in the depth of my heart it’s what I desire to do.

“Give it a try, mate,” Rafe encourages. “You won’t be sorry,” He, too, knows what the effects will be. This should prove interesting if Antonio decides to take the plunge.

“Alright. But if I think I was robbed, you’ll refund the money to my account?’’

I smile back. “Absolutely.”

Like that will happen. We’ve never had an unsatisfied guest yet. The initial shock of consuming old blood is enough to make them want to buy out the whole stash. Which, of course, we decline without restraint.

“Limit is one per guest, per stay. No exceptions so don’t bother to ask.” I look straight into his chocolate brown eyes to make sure he gets it; he nods.

He’ll still ask. They always do.

“I’ll be right back with it. We keep the shots chilled in another room.”

His eyebrows go up. Without a word, he watches me as I leave the bar.

I walk out to the main landing and look around before going further. No one’s following me out from the lounge and no one’s walking to me from the other wings. I move in the blink of an eye to the hidden observation room on this floor. The concealed door closes without sound behind me. I listen for footfalls before proceeding to the mini-fridge under the desk.

Entering the keypad combination, I open the door to retrieve the oldest container. It’s one of five flat-bottomed vials sitting in a holder on the top shelf. Retracing my previous steps with the same paranoid caution, I head back to the bar. Once behind the smooth polished wood, I take off the top and pop it in the microwave under the counter for twenty-five seconds on medium power to take the chill off.

After the ding, I open the door, raise the vial and grab the glass. All of the blood is mixed in alcohol to disguise my scent. Can’t have them guessing it’s mine.

“Straight alcohol with it or in a cocktail mixer?”

“I’ll take it straight with vodka.”

I add the requested liquor to a glass, pour the blood in, then place the drink on the bar in front of Antonio. He downs it in one smooth motion. His eyes immediately go black, the pupil expanding to cover his whole iris, typical for a feeding, enraged, and sometimes aroused vampire. A gasp escapes his astonished face while he grips the bar for support.

“Holy crap, you weren’t kidding. I don’t think I’ve ever had blood so old. Give me another.”

I know what he’s experiencing right now. It’s as close as a vamp can get to being drunk or high since they’d turned. The warmth will spread through his body and his increased awareness will wrap about his skin like a prickly feeling. He may be able to sense desires or perhaps project a bit of his thoughts with a touch. These effects can be permanent if he had a lot more of my blood on a regular basis, but with so little, it will be temporary, lasting only a few days.

I smile at him, having anticipated the request. “I know it’s tempting, but house rules. Can’t break ‘em.”

“Wow, you’ve really got something here, Viv. This stuff is incredible!”

“Yes, it is. Hey, now be careful with your increased strength. It can be hard to adjust to.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Antonio reaches for his empty drink and his black eyes flash up to mine.

By the looks of his original glass, he was drinking a blood-infused cocktail. Another house special of employee blood mixed with alcohol.

“I’ll be back to visit just for the blood. Unreal.”

I laugh. “Good to hear! I knew you wouldn’t be asking for a refund.”

He snorts. “I’d be surprised if anyone did.’’

He must be a little punch drunk. He doesn’t look like the type who snorts when they laugh.

Rafe takes the discarded vial and turns to rinse it in the sink.

“Wait!” Antonio calls out. “Can I rinse the container with some alcohol and pour it into my glass? It’s too good to waste a drop.”

He’s not the first who’s had a slight freak-out when the vial gets taken away, so Rafe turns back and takes the vodka out from under the counter.

“Is vodka again okay?” At Antonio’s nod, he pours a bit into the vial and puts the stopper back on to shake it up.

Rafe pours the blood mix into his glass on the bar and moves to put the vial in the sink. The expression of sheer delight on Antonio’s face as he looks at the drink is priceless.