La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust (32 page)

The worst part was dealing with all the
questions at work. "Where are you going?" "Do you have another job
lined up?" "This is so sudden. What happened?"

Engineers weren't always good with change,
and her coworkers weren't an exception. The fact that she didn't
have any answers only confused them more. Planners by nature, her
colleagues found her laissez faire attitude about the future
perplexing, and Julia was pretty sure, frightening.

The front door opened as Clare let herself
in. Julia's sister never knocked and carried a key. When Julia had
first started dating Jeff, she'd learned very quickly to use the
deadbolt if she wanted privacy.

"Hey chica, what's up?" Clare called as she
closed the front door.

"Just going over some money stuff. I quit my
job today."

"No shit!" Clare was carrying a newspaper and
something red and silky. Setting them on the table, she pulled out
a chair and sat down. "What happened?"

Julia shrugged. "Nothing, really. I just
decided it was time for a change."

Clare was in awe. "What are you going to
do?"

"I don't know. Travel for a bit. Try to
figure out what I want to be when I grow up."

Clare shook her head. "Wow. New Orleans
really did change you, didn't it?"

Julia gave a half smile. "I guess so."

"Well then, tonight should be perfect." Clare
stood up and shook out the red fabric. It was a slip dress Julia
recognized from her sister's collection: short, sexy, and made of a
silky material that clung to every curve. "Here, put this on. And
grab that leather waist cincher I know is buried somewhere in your
closet, and those hot, fuck-me boots."

"Um, where are we going?"

Clare grinned. "Just trust me."

"With a statement like that you have to tell
me where we're going or I'm not changing out of my PJs."

Clare slid the paper over. "Check out the
bottom right corner."

Julia's brow knitted together. "The tranny
show? Sounds fun, but I doubt I'll need fuck-me boots for
that."

"No." Clare grabbed the paper, skimmed over
it, and then tossed it back down. "Although that looks like fun,
check out the one above it."

Julia's brow became one, solid unit.
Vamp
Con: Embrace Your Blood Lust
.

Her guts twisted and she pushed the paper
away. "I don't think so."

"Oh no, we're going." Clare nudged the paper
back. "Check out who will be there."

Julia didn't have to look at the paper to
know whose name she would see, but she couldn't help herself. In
small print, below the character actors, and listed with authors
and other guest speakers, was the name
Armand Laroque
.

Julia shook her head. At the mere thought of
seeing him, her nerves were instantly ablaze and her heart jumped
into overdrive. "I can't." She rose, unable to look at the paper
anymore.

"Sure you can." Clare followed her as she
fled to the kitchen. "Look, you've been moping around here for the
last few weeks. We can go to the convention, look him up and see
what happens. All you have to lose is your pride."

Hugging herself tightly, Julia leaned against
the counter. "I don't know. I couldn't bear it if he rejected me
again."

"And if he doesn't?" Clare grabbed her
shoulders and forced her gaze. "You have to think about what you
have to lose versus what you have to gain."

The memory of the night Julia spent with
Armand flashed through her mind. She could smell him, taste his
kiss, feel the way her skin lit on fire where he touched her. She
remembered the way he made her comfortable and jittery at the same
time, how he understood every quirky aspect of her sense of humor,
and listened so attentively to every word she spoke. But then, the
pain of his rejection swelled in her core and wiped out every good
memory she possessed.

"I don't know."

"Julia, you did the unthinkable today. You
quit your job. With no back-up plan. That took way more guts than
this. You can face him. Just set aside your pride and put yourself
out there."

Could she? Could she face those hazel eyes if
they were filled with disdain?

The thought made her tremble.

Regardless of the outcome, Armand deserved an
apology. Pride had gotten her into this mess. She could suck it up,
swallow it, and do what she should have weeks ago.

Slowly, Julia felt her head nodding. Clare
was right. When Julia had traveled to New Orleans, she'd promised
to step away from her comfort zone and the rewards had been
amazing. This wasn't any different. If she wanted to truly be
happy, she had to pursue it, take some risks, and just go for it.
This wasn't a curvy path; it was a damn spiral.

Her nods grew stronger. "Yeah. Okay. Let's
go."

Clare squealed, throwing her arms around
Julia in a rough embrace. "Oh my God, this will be so awesome.
Seriously, Jules, I have this feeling everything will turn out.
Trust me." Her grin was complete mischief. She grabbed the dress.
"Okay, now let's go find those fuck-me boots."

* * *

Leaning against the wide, faux granite vanity
at the back of a generic hotel room, Armand stared at his image in
the mirror. The harsh lights accentuated the dark circles under his
eyes, making it look like he hadn't slept for days. Although
truthfully, blaming it on the lights was unfair. It wasn't like he
was well rested. Memories of Julia continued to plague his dreams,
and at least once during the day he'd wake up and obsess
compulsively over the doubts she'd planted in his head.

He glanced at the small makeup kit sitting
unopened next to the sink. It wasn't only his sleep she was
interfering with. Now, he was even having a hard time putting his
makeup on.

Armand had never had qualms about wearing
makeup before. As far as he was concerned, it was no different than
a stockbroker putting on his power suit before heading down to Wall
Street. As the owner of a bar that catered to the vampire
subculture, and a speaker at a vampire conference, he was expected
to project a certain image, and while makeup might not be a
requirement, it helped.

Besides, he even liked the way it looked. He
might not want to wear it on a daily basis, but he didn't have an
issue with a little eyeliner now and then.

Until now.

Fuck her.

At the risk of being a stalker, Armand had
looked up her address (a feat too easily accomplished with a little
Internet savvy) before making the drive to St. Louis. It had been
difficult not to bypass the hotel and drive straight to her house.
The temptation was even stronger now to skip his presentation and
end this business, once and for all.

But that gave her way too much power, and she
already had too much control over him.

Snatching the translucent powder from his
kit, he twisted the cap off with enough aggression that powder
spilled all over the sink. No matter what, this bullshit was ending
tonight. He was tired of being a slave to her memory.

* * *

The flyer had Armand listed as speaking in
Conference Room A at 8:30. "
Safety and Responsibility for the
Modern Blood Drinker
" was the title of his speech. There was a
small photo of his face next to the title, and a quick bio. To get
there, Clare and Julia had to weave through the cluttered isles in
the large ballroom. Wedged between booths and displays of movie
memorabilia, clothing, authors pimping books, and hundreds of other
costume clad and un-costumed conference attendees, they pushed
their way forward. With the recent popularity of vampires in movies
and TV shows, the hotel was packed with a strange mix of Goths,
Abercrombie wearing teenage girls, and 40-year-old women.

Conference Room A was equally packed, though
its members definitely leaned more towards the Goth side. Julia
scanned the room for a seat near the exit in case her nerves
failed. Every blue fabric, metal-framed chair anywhere near an
escape was taken.

It wouldn't have mattered if there had been
an open seat. The moment she saw Armand, she stopped dead in her
tracks, swallowing hard against her heart as it attempted to lurch
from her mouth.

He looked amazing in a pressed, red, button
up shirt, and black silk trousers. His hair was loose and softly
framed his strong facial features. And even from where she stood at
the back of the room, she could tell he wore a smudge of black
eyeliner, a touch of color on his full lips, and his face was
powdered to a luminescent sheen.

He was the perfect vampire. And neither the
makeup nor the dramatic clothes bothered her. He just
looked...gorgeous.

"Whether you drink for passion, sustenance,
or any of the heart's other desires," he was saying, his deep, rich
voice sliding from the speakers and down Julia's spine. "There are
no excuses for irresponsibility. And, like safe sex, safe blood
drinking should be the rule, not the exception. Thank you."

Applause filled the room. Armand gave a quick
gracious nod and stepped from the stage.

"Holy shit," Clare breathed in her ear. "I'd
forgotten how fucking hot he is in person."

Julia forced some air into her lungs. "Yeah,"
she exhaled.

"I can't believe you fucked him." There was a
smidge of bewilderment to Clare's statement. "Sorry," she responded
to Julia's dirty look. "It's just...wow, I think I'd cum the minute
he touched me."

"Something like that."

Clare patted Julia's arm excitedly. "He's
coming this way!"

Armand was slowly sauntering towards them,
shaking hands with audience members as he made his way to the back
of the room. He'd closed half the distance when a couple dressed
head to toe in their vampire finest stopped him. As he chatted with
them, more people gathered to talk with him until a small crowd
blocked the path leading to her.

It was excruciating waiting for him to make
his way through the group. She was a jittery wreck as it was. Like
a corral packed full of wild horses, her nerves cantered recklessly
through her insides, looking for a way out. Doubts and second
thoughts began to overpower her desire to reconnect with him. She
didn't think her heart could bear his rejection, and if Clare
wasn't standing between Julia and the door, she might have bolted
through it.

And then abruptly, his eyes were on her. One
minute he was nodding and smiling politely as a rail-thin man
spoke, and then his gaze lifted and fell directly onto her. His
brow furrowed as he took her in, and seconds later, recognition
flashed across his face. She saw him mouth, "Excuse me" to the man,
and then he pushed his way through the parting crowd.

"He recognizes you," Clare chirped in her
ear, the pitch of her voice high with giddiness. Julia wanted to
swat her away like an annoying insect, but her body was frozen
where she stood.

Her vision reduced to a tunnel focused only
on him. Clare, the crowd, everything disappeared until all she saw
was him, all she felt was him. Nothing and no one else
mattered.

He stopped in front of her, and her heart
followed his lead and quit beating. Any moment she was going to
fall on the floor dead.

"Julia." His tone was cool and reserved, but
his expression was a mixture of conflicting emotions: longing,
apprehension, anger, desire. She couldn't tell how he felt about
seeing her.

Her mouth gaped liked a fish but no words
came out. There was so much to say, so many regrets and laments to
express, but her vocal chords were as frozen as the rest of her.
She could feel the tears building in the corners of her eyes, and
blinked against them. If she could just speak, she could give him
the apology he deserved.

"You look..." He paused, his hazel eyes
pained. He set his jaw and swallowed. "Amazing." The words were
barely spoken above a whisper.

That little bit of affirmation was enough to
thaw her vocal chords, and her mouth purged at a million words per
minute. "Armand, I'm so sorry for everything." The tears erupted
from her eyes, but she couldn't be bothered to wipe them. She had
to get her apology out before he told her to fuck off. "I was such
a stupid fool, a judgmental, arrogant bitch, and I wouldn't blame
you if you never wanted to see me again. But-"

He cut her off, grabbing her arm and pulling
her into a heavy kiss. Her heart took its cue and leapt back to
life, her body following its lead. Throwing her arms around his
neck, she returned his kiss with all the passion she could muster.
Weeks of pent up emotion exploded from her and filled her: all the
longing, the need, and the relief. There were aspects of the raw
emotion pouring from Armand that matched hers, but it was clouded
in the bitter taste of anger. She could actually feel the pent up
rage as he gripped at her.

"Goddamn you," he hissed, jerking away from
her.

Oh God, he really was going to tell her to go
to hell. She braced for impact, preparing to scrape the remnants of
her heart from the floor after he stomped it.

Instead, she felt a firm tug on her arm.
"Come with me."

Pushing past the curious crowd, Armand lead
her across the conference room floor. Warm tears saturated her
cheeks, and she made a quick swipe at them with her free hand. If
she was going to face Armand when he told her exactly what she
could do with her feeble apology, the least she could do was not
look like a blubbering idiot.

Just before they slipped though a closed door
and into a small, adjacent conference room, Julia caught sight of
Clare. Her sister gave her a questioning glance, and Julia shrugged
meekly in response. "Text me" Clare mouthed and held her hand up to
her ear like a phone.

The sound of the door shutting behind Julia
was like a gunshot.

"So, I'm supposed to forgive everything, just
like that?" Armand turned to face her, his arms folded tightly
across his chest, a scowl darkening his features.