Microsoft Word - The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.doc (38 page)

I laughed, happier than I’d ever imagined I could be. “It will

when we’re done with it, If that’s what you want,” I promised.

“I think dancing  –  being  –  with you is all I ever wanted.”

“Me too.” I couldn’t stop the girlish giggle  from escaping.

“I guess this is a real  ”
–

“Hollywood ending,” he finished, not having to be psychic

to know what I was thinking.

311

P lay D ead

D ina Jam es

E
 
ven out here, he could hear the music.

Slowing his stroll to nearly a stop, Nikolai’s crystal-blue

eyes rose to the sign above the door.

THE GARLIC AND STAKE.

A wry smile twitched at the corner of his lips. It grew to a complete, bemused grim upon seeing the small, hand-lettered sign outside the pub, near the sidewalk, where it couldn’t really be seen unless one was looking specifically for it.

VAMPIRE LAIR LOCATED DOWNSTAIRS.

Oh? Really, now.

Nikolai’s eyebrows rose, and his eyes once again flicked to the sign above the entryway that displayed the vampire-themed name of the pub.

He debated about going ‘downstairs’ just for the sheer horror of it: humans masquerading as vampires were always a good source of a night’s amusement, not to mention a quick . . . bite.

312

If they truly knew what it was to be what they wished they were. A consciousness in a mortal form. A body without a soul.  A voracious parasite, forced to live upon the blood of those they traded their soul to outlive.

There was a reason vampires were called ‘damned’.

In no real mood for amusement, ignoring the vague promise of an evening’s entertainment, Nikolai was nearly past the pub entrance when something else caught his attention.

A scent.

Soho, London was full of scents. All kinds. Some

intoxicating, others repulsive.

But this . . .

He closed his eyes and breathed  it in.

The scent washed over him, enveloping him as the water of

a hot bath used to when he was still human.

His eyes opened just in time to catch those of a woman as she walked past him towards the glass door that led into the vampire pub.

A mortal woman.

Accompanied inside by a mortal man.

She looked away quickly, as though she didn’t want to be looked at. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t want to be seen entering this ridiculous ‘vampire lair’.

Nikolai almost laughed at the thought.

313

But nearly  as quickly as she’d looked away, she looked back again and, when their eyes connected, Nikolai felt it as a physical blow.

Stunning. That was the word for it.

Not that she was beautiful or in any way physically

attractive to him.

She simply stunned him.

How strange that was. Her eyes were almost a challenge in themselves, let alone the look she’d given him. Dark-brown eyes that both demanded he leave her alone and entreated him.

Save me, please.

He heard it as clearly as if she had spoken to him.

She held his eyes until she could no longer do so, and then

descended downstairs into the vampire lair.

What?

A woman like that? Going into . . . such a place . . . with . .?

“A woman like what?” he asked himself. “She’s just a  mortal. With an equally mortal companion. Going into an  equally mortal bar to play dead.”

He could hear from where he stood that the music inside was too loud. He could smell that the bar didn’t observe

England’s uniform smoking ban. Hell, he could nearly see from here the unswept  floor, the unwiped tables and the low light designed to hide both facts while making a pathetic attempt at a vampiric ‘atmosphere’.

314

Humans would never understand that, while his kind shunned daylight, they found artificial light  –  especially the soft glow  of candles  –  particularly appealing. They did indeed have sensitive eyes that afforded them very keen vision, but they didn’t shrink from all kinds of light as they were purported to.

He didn’t have any interest in this place. But
 
she
 
was in

there.

She  was now in that laughable vampire lair, with a weak, male human who would do little to nothing to sate Nikolai’s appetite if Nikolai wanted his blood. Of course, judging from the look the woman had given Nikolai, this human man did little to nothing to sate
 
her
 
appetite either.

It would be entirely too easy to take her from him. The

thought amused him, and he smiled again.

Yes.

Why not? He wanted her. For some reason he wanted
 
her
more than anyone he had in, well, he couldn’t remember the last time he had actually
 
wanted
, and he wasn’t sure it was just because he could have her. It seemed he
 
was
 
in the mood for amusement, after all.

However, that meant he had to follow her.

He found himself reaching for the door handle and opening

the door.

Out on the  street, the smell of garlic had been merely annoying. Now it was overwhelming. They must pump it in from somewhere. More or their insipid ‘atmosphere’, he supposed. Not that the stories of garlic repelling vampires had any truth to them. Far from it.

315

It was repellent, period.

But that didn’t matter now. He had a purpose.

Nikolai strode past the drinkers to the entrance to the vampire lair downstairs. It was a steep staircase that turned 90 degrees halfway down.

He rolled his blue eyes and debated.

He was wearing a white suit. Another hand-lettered sign at

the top of the stairwell said clearly: ‘NO SUITS!’

Suits. He hesitated a moment.

It wasn’t the sign that gave him pause. It was the idea that he might get something foul and disgusting on his white j acket or trousers.

Contrary to Hollywood myth, he did not live in a manor house with servants who did his laundry and this suit was ‘dry-clean only’. And if he said so himself  –  not that he could see for himself (the story about vampires not having reflections was as true as the garlic myth wasn’t)  –  judging by the longing looks he had earned today, from men and women alike, he looked damn good in this suit. It was a suit that was far too expensive to even consider dirtying in a dank little mortal ‘hangout’.

As if a real vampire would be caught dead in such a place.

No pun intended.

But that was an overused cliché anyways. Vampires were not technically ‘undead’. They were very much alive, thank you.  Nikolai really had to hand it to the movies and folklore. Mortals would never understand that one’s body could be separated from one’s soul and still be alive.

316

Modern humans didn’t believe in anything. They called themselves ‘advanced’, though Nikolai had yet to see any proof of advancement in humans save for  their technology and hygiene. They just wouldn’t believe it if you told them that they all had an immortal soul. They had no clue about the war being waged over these souls or any idea about their powers. Asking them to believe that there were creatures interested in gaining possession of their souls was ludicrous indeed.

Nikolai considered the stairwell for another long moment.

She
 
was down there. Her heartbeat was less than 50 metres away. Even here, he could hear it.
 
Feel
 
it. Its rhythm was synchronized  with his own. Did she not feel it? How could she not?

He wanted her, and he would have her, if only to satisfy his

curiosity over this unorthodox desire.

The moment’s hesitation gone, Nikolai descended the stairs.

Confidence bordering on arrogance.

That’s all Katrina could call the look on the man’s face as he entered the bar. Oh, she’d seen him outside. A
 
white suit
?  The man seemed to be stuck in the 1980s, sans mullet (which was a mercy), though she could tell his hair was longer than most men wore it. Maybe he was just far too much of a
 
Miami  Vice
 
fan, though he wasn’t wearing sunglasses (thank God).  Still, all criticism aside, he did wear that suit well, even if he did look a little strange in here, where everyone else was wearing black. If anyone looked out of place, it was her, with her dark-pink top and a black skirt.

317

Of course, Dan had assured her she looked fine, though she was sure Dan would have said anything to get her to come down here. He had wanted to come here for months, ever since he read about it online on one of his vampire forums.

It was right up Dan’s loud, wannabe-vampire alley.

She, on the other hand, was bored out of her mind.

One drink. She’s promised, just one drink.

Her hopes that it would be a quick drink were dashed

though. The bartender was still on his cell phone. How that guy  could hear anything over the loud death-metal music was  beyond her anyway.

Her eyes caught those of the guy in the white suit. He made her feel inexplicably better about her clothes. Now they  both looked out of place. The way he was eyeing her made her uncomfortable though.

He looked at her hungrily. Desirously.

She looked away, both pleased and embarrassed.

She didn’t . . . look like that. Feel like that. She wasn’t

anyone.

Certainly not anyone that  –  well let’s face it  –  deserved a

guy that hot looking at her like that.

Come on, Dan! Hurry up! Come on, bartender! Get off the

phone!

Dan was oblivious to her, as usual. He was studying the old horror-movie  vampire behind glass at the end of  the bar while he waited for the bartender to get off the phone.

318

The guy in the white suit suddenly gestured dismissively in the direction of the bartender and Dan. With a wave of his hand, he seemed to dismiss all of it. And his gesture seemed to be for her benefit alone.

Then he held the same hand out to her.

Katrina looked around nervously. No one noticed him. How could they not? He didn’t look like he belonged here. Why weren’t they noticing him?

But no one was looking at him.

And no one was looking  at her.

Her eyes went to his again. Shy, now.

Nikolai tried not to let his impatience show.

Why wouldn’t she come to him?

Wait. Wait. This was the New Millennium. Mortal women didn’t respond as well to a commanding male as they used to.  Well, not outwardly.

It was Nikolai’s experience that they all yearned secretly for such a man, but their modern pride would not let them admit it.  Modern mortal females had fought long and hard for equality and independence and respect. To confess that they truly just wanted a strong man to care for them was tantamount to treason; ill regard for the rights their foremothers had fought to give them.

Still. Semantics aside . . .

319

Slowly he turned the hand he held out to her palm down, as

though he wished for her to take it.

Wished.

He was giving her the choice. That was what these women

wanted these days, wasn’t it?

To be given a choice?

Even though he didn’t believe there was truly one for her to

make?

This was destiny, after all.

Why wasn’t Dan looking around to check on her? God, he was always so oblivious to her! To anything outside his own interests. If he ever managed to order their drinks, he would probably just start talking to the bartender and wouldn’t even notice she had gone.