This Curse: (The Grace Allen Series Book 2 ) (3 page)

“Can anyone join the party?” I said. Pleasure
registered in his eyes as I spoke. My slight Jamaican accent flowed flawlessly
from my full lips, alien to my own ears.

“Not just anyone, beauty, but you, most definitely.”
To my surprise, he slid his chair back, indicating his lap.
Cripes.
My
ass would be numb after about ten minutes, but seeing several other young
ladies occupying similar seats, I obliged him.

“And what might your name be?” a voice rumbled from
across the table.

“Cassandra,” I leaned forward smiling at the man who
spoke. My large breasts swelled over my lacy bra as I moved closer to him, “but
you can me Sandra.” I met his eyes.

His lip curled up in a sleazy smile and his eyes
filled with that look that all men get when they think they’ve spotted easy
prey. “A pleasure, Sandra, I’m Dillon.” He made a casual gesture to his left,
“this is Martin, and the lucky man you’re sitting with is Zak. That one over
there,” he nodded to his right. “Well that’s Christian and this here is
Patrick. We own the place. Would you care for a drink?” The woman sitting on
his lap looked at me as if I were navel lint. I couldn’t blame her. After all I
was flirting with her man, and darn it if he wasn’t flirting right back.

“All drinks for our ladies are on the house, of
course.” His eyebrows rose as if to say, I’m important, be impressed.
Please
,
as if the money he wasn’t spending was impressive. I stifled my natural
tendency to confront people with their own stupidity, or in this case, extreme
vanity and instead smiled with what I hoped was admiration. 

The drink was pink and sweeter than my morning
cereal, but thanks to my Madea metabolism, completely harmless. Alcohol was no
longer a threat; the other side to that coin was that alcohol was no longer fun
either. I guess you take the good with the bad.

I scooted around a little, hoping to relieve the slow
ache that was beginning in my left buttock. I froze as my movements caused a
small groan to slip from the human
Lazy Boy
under my ass. I turned. Zak,
I observed would be short when he stood, but his body was powerfully built. The
muscles of his legs were very firm
, attributing to the ache I was suffering
from
. The silk shirt he wore was a size too small and meant to be. It
showcased his too-large arms and massive chest.

I tried to smile at the man under my ass, making it
seem that I was still thrilled to be there. He pushed his groin up and slid his
hand around my waist, all the while not saying a single word to me.

Well, this one was a real shit head. It was all I
could do not to turn him into a donkey. Men who act like Asses should look like
Asses. However, I was a Madea, which meant that I was supposed to be above such
pettiness. I was good and didn’t abuse my power like that
. Hell, if I did
half the male population would be braying.

So, I thought, this one wants to play dirty? Well, I
could oblige. I shifted again, rubbing my generous backside against his
sensitive male anatomy. My ass could only take so much of his horny advances.
If he was like any other healthy male, he should start responding.

I smiled as I caught the picture in his thoughts a
second before his hands moved from my waist. I jumped up as he abruptly stood
and excused himself, vacating the seat before his bewildered friends could ask
a single question. I moved fast, occupying the empty chair. I had no desire to
be another man’s decoration.

I slid my chair closer to Patrick, feigning interest
in something behind him. He was oblivious, nuzzling the neck of the blonde and
making horrid suction cup noises with his kisses. From what I could see,
whenever they came up for air, she was beautiful. A classic beauty, like
Marilyn Monroe in her heavy years, she radiated health and vitality. Her
breasts were real and her skin was flawless. She was nothing like the little
stick figures that filled the club. Those women resembled little boys more than
they resembled women. I admired Patrick for his choice.

I gazed at the couples and noticed there were more
women then men, yet Dillon hadn’t bothered to introduce a single one of them.
It was obvious they meant nothing to them; merely arm candy. God, what a group
of primates.

I made eye contact with the only redhead at the table
and she glared at me, wrapping her arms possessively around Martin, a thin man
with short black hair. He was Latin and in my opinion, his good looks weren’t
enough to cling to so desperately.

Okay, I guess I didn’t need to feel angry on their
behalf. It seemed they were okay with the treatment, more’s the pity. Thank
goodness, I wasn’t that clueless.

I tapped my fingers on the only clean spot on the
table. My thoughts were a chaotic jumble. Were these ladies future victims?
Were all of these men werewolves? I knew that all I had to do was take a stroll
in their minds and I’d have all the answers I needed. My conscious prickled and
I frowned. My morals were a real bummer sometimes.

I blew out a tired breath and glanced at the colorful
horde of young flesh writhing on the dance floor. My ears were ringing and I was
about to do something drastic, like smacking Patrick on the back of his head.
God,
how much kissing could one man do?
I sat my elbow on the table, and then
sighing, I rested my chin on my palm.

Irritation began to bubble inside me and I turned,
expecting to see him still super glued to the blonde.

He wasn’t and I jumped, sending my chair in a
backward fall that landed with a muffled thud onto the carpet. Patrick was
looking at me, an odd expression on his handsome face. It had startled me and I
tried to smile, embarrassed.

The blonde toyed with a lock of Patrick’s hair,
“What’s the matter cocoa puffs; you’ve never seen a good lookin’ man this close
before?” she sneered and nuzzled his neck as if she hadn’t just insulted me.

I was having a hard time processing my shock. I
couldn’t believe what had come out of the hateful woman’s mouth and I was
momentarily struck dumb. Anger flowed through my body and I was about to go
girly and snatch her baldheaded, when Patrick stood, spilling the evil woman
onto the floor like a forgotten dog.

“Would you care to dance?” he asked, offering me his
hand. I gawked at him. He acted as though he hadn’t just tossed a full-grown
woman onto her ass. The woman seemed just as stunned and started to protest.
Patrick sent her a chilling look and she backed away on all fours.

 It was a very awkward to witness. She looked like a
beaten dog in expensive eveningwear. I was numb with shock. Not only for her
appalling prejudice, but for the way he had handled it.

I offered him my hand without thinking. His skin was
hot and I instinctively jerked, his strong fingers tightened as he led me to
the floor. A small signal to the DJ changed the music to a much slower rhythm.
He spun me into his firm embrace and swept me across the floor with the music.
His body guided mine effortlessly and I sneered. Patrick was a damn fine
dancer. 

He bent close; pressing his mouth close to my ear, I
felt his breath hot on my neck. “I must apologize for Olivia.” He whispered.
“Sadly she will never apologize for herself. She has a big mouth and a small
brain.”

“Then why do you put up with her?” I pulled away,
frowning.

“She is my newest,” he shrugged. “And I must admit
that the only thing she seems to have going for her is her body. I like curves
on my women. A man doesn’t like to slam into a pile of sharp bones.” He
grinned, winking playfully.

“Oh, how beautiful,” I drawled. “Tell me, is it
always about sex?” he dipped me backward, arching my body low and then he spun
me around, flying across the floor. We were dancing to music from another time
and no one seemed to care or even take offense
.

Patrick pressed me close, his face buried in my hair.
I pulled back, “Are you going to answer me?” I arched a brow.

He smirked, “no, it’s not always sex. Sometimes it’s
the hunt.” He pulled me close to his body again; his powerful arms held me like
a vice. I sucked in a startled breath, adrenaline raced into my veins. “She
made a mistake tonight,” he continued as he turned me in a tight circle. “Now the
hunt begins. I confess I had high hopes for her. She should have lasted longer.
My judgment must be suffering.” He shook his head, “but then there have been so
many distractions lately.”

“Distractions?” I breathed.

He stopped dead in the middle of the dance floor
examining my face. His dark brows drew together in a frown. His full lips were
pressed into a hard line. He moved his face toward my hair again, inhaling
deeply. His rough stubble scraped my skin as he sniffed along my neck. “You of
all people should know that life is not always nice.” He looked at me again,
his eyes narrowed, “You of all people know the truth of our world.” He gripped
my upper arms. “What are you doing here,
Grace
?” he growled.

The jig was up.

I jerked backward, angry and annoyed that I had
screwed something up with my disguise. “How?”

He smiled and pulled me close to his body again. I
felt like a rag doll. He was taking pleasure from manhandling me and it was
pissing me off.

“You changed your appearance, Grace, but your
scent.
You failed to change your scent.” As if to punctuate his words, he breathed
deeply. “I barely caught it as you moved closer to me, so eager, sweet Grace.
Tell me, why go to the trouble to change your face and not your scent? Did you
wish to be found out? Do you like to dance with death?”

I stiffened, “Oh, buddy, you forget what I am. With
no more than a thought I could zap your ass into that beer bottle, so watch
it!”

He chuckled, “but you won’t. I haven’t hurt you,
yet
,
and you will not lash out unless you’re and inch from death. No Grace, I
haven’t forgotten what you are, in fact that knowledge is what makes me so sure
you won’t hurt me. You’re too good.”

 “Now hold on!” I pushed a finger into his chest.
“You may not have laid a finger on me, but you’ve sure as hell killed people!
You may think that killing those girls was a neat way to get my attention, and
I’ll admit, you have my attention. But Patrick, if you plan on hurting that
woman, then you’ll see my dark side. She insulted me, yes, but that does not
warrant a death sentence.”

He regarded me for a moment before saying, “You came
in stealth, and you tried to hide.” He frowned. “Why then, should we hold to
our end? Besides, Grace, we eat meat. Those girls were dead whether we wanted
your attention or not. We’re not a pack of fools. We dispose of our scraps.
Leaving a few out for the authorities to find was as simple as leaving the
table before the dishes are cleared.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that? These are people.
Human beings!” I shouted indignantly.

 He shrugged. “If it helps, you can think of it as
culling the herd so to speak. My kind keeps the population in check. Stupid
people breed stupid people. Food or not, that woman will not live past the
night.”

 “My God, Patrick!” I shook my head at a total loss.

“I am an animal,” He smirked. “The most powerful and
primal of beings. My pack has lived in this splendid little city for decades.
Such places offer a superb buffet of lost souls, runaways, drunks, and
prostitutes. People with no real lives, no connections, it’s perfect.”

I felt ill, “I won’t let you hurt her Patrick. I’m
afraid she’ll just have to go away.” I stared at her.
A tiny village in the
Alps seemed about right
. The air stirred around her and Patrick tensed. She
met my eyes a second before she vanished from the room.

“Damn it, Grace!” he thundered, balling his fists.
“If not her then it will be someone else. We need to feed.”

“Then feed you schmuck. Go into the desert and eat a
few coyotes, Lord knows the place is crawling with them, or here’s a thought,
why not go to the store? They have these nifty little things called meat
counters, go visit one of them.” He just stared at me. His eyes did a slow
blink.

“Okay, why human? At least answer that.” I demanded.
“I mean your human too, at least part of you is.”

“It’s the hunt, Grace,” he said simply. “I’m not
human, make no mistake about that. I am a
Were
. I feed on the strongest,
the most cunning animal. For my kind, humans are not the top predators they are
the top prey. Hunting keeps the pack in their prime. What do you think we’ll do
now? The full moon is upon us and you have stolen our meal.” He reached for me;
his hands gripped my arms painfully. “
I think you would give a fine chase
.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was almost cute, he
actually believed I would let him even suggest such a thing. God, the arrogance
of monsters.

“You know Patrick, I feel sorry for you. Here I was
ready to take you seriously and you go and screw it up by assuming you have any
kind of control over me.” I pulled out of his grip. “What all of you fail to
realize is that you have
zero
control over me.” I moved backward and let
my glamour slip, revealing a small shard of my true form. His face fell, the
arrogance slipping to reveal a slice of fear.