Holly’s peal of excitement when I told her about my date with Adrian could’ve shattered all the windows in our house. She insisted on helping me get ready, which I appreciated.
What should one wear on a date with a vampire?
“Where’s he taking you?” Holly asked, pulling a pair of shiny black jeans from a hanger in my closet.
I stood in front of the mirror in my robe and made a face. “Burrow House.”
Holly’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? No way!”
“He is Adrian Kane,” I said, as though that explained it all. It sort of did.
Burrow House was the most exclusive members-only club in West Hollywood. Similar establishments allowed people to apply for membership, but Burrow House tapped their recruits like a secret society at an Ivy League college.
Holly’s face lit up. “You are so lucky, Phi.”
There was that word again—lucky. Like everything that happened was a fortunate coincidence. My stomach twisted in knots. Nothing about meeting Adrian felt like happenstance.
Holly laid out the jeans with a black body suit and lacey top on my bed. Her smile stretched from ear to ear as she joined me in front of the mirror. She tilted her head to the side and studied my reflection.
“You must really like him. You’re practically glowing, Phi,” she teased.
I stared at my own face and couldn’t deny she had a point. The pimple brewing on my chin had disappeared. The worry lines between my eyebrows had vanished. My lackluster hair had an extra sheen, and I hadn’t even put argon oil in it yet.
The knot in my stomach tightened. My appearance had everything to do with Adrian, just not in the way Holly thought. It was his blood, not my feelings for him, that had given me the glow-up.
I met my best friend’s eyes in the mirror. “So… I need to tell you something.”
Holly sucked in a breath, her smile fading. “You can tell me anything. No judgments.”
I forced myself to hold her gaze. “I may have underplayed the extent of my injuries last night.”
Her eyes flicked to the back of my head as the color drained from her face.
Do it. Now. Tell her before you lose your nerve, I lectured myself.
The words tumbled from my lips in a barely coherent stream. Holly’s jaw dropped a little lower as I spoke, though she let me tell the entire story without interruption. Once I finished, several long minutes went by before she managed to speak.
“Wow.” Holly shook her head. “I mean, I’ve heard rumors of supes, but I’ve never met one. Though, I have to say, this explains a lot. He got to you so fast. Inhumanly fast.” She hesitated before adding, “Should I be worried you’ll come home with fangs?”
I didn’t bother to tell her she’d likely met more than one supernatural and just didn’t know it. Instead, I focused on her question. Was going on a date with a vampire really the smartest move? Normally, I would’ve said no. But Adrian had risked exposing himself to save my life.
“If he wanted to turn me, he would’ve done it on that tour bus,” I said at last.
One side of Holly’s mouth curved upward. “Well, if the movies are any indication, the sex will be amazing.”
Flashes of Adrian’s gorgeous face staring down at me played in my mind; his corded forearm pressed against my mouth. My skin heated at the memory, body aching to feel his touch again.
I turned to face my best friend. “I am a fool for going on this date?”
“Oh, Phi. No. You deserve something good.” She reached for my hand and squeezed. “I mean, I dated a vegan with a foot fetish. He only got hard when he sucked my big toe, so I’m not really in position to judge. Everybody has quirks. For Adrian, it’s fangs and a liquid diet.”
A bark of laugher escaped my mouth. “Thank you for always finding the upside.”
Holly gave my hand another squeeze. “Let’s get you ready for your introduction to the dark side.”
* * *
Driving my car into the underground garage at the members-only club felt like an unwelcome penetration—my old sedan was neither wanted nor needed in their womb of success and opulence. The valets approached with raised eyebrows. I slipped one of them my keys and five bucks, then re-tucked my lacy top to ensure it was flat against my bodysuit.
A man in a suit rushed over with a tablet, and I gave him my name. “Welcome, Miss St. Clare. Burrow House is pleased to have you as a guest this evening.”
Smiling tightly, I nodded at him. “I’m meeting someone.”
“Of course, Miss St. Clare,” he said, snapping his fingers.
A younger attendant scurried over and gave him what appeared to be a small canvas bag, kind of like the ones I used for the store’s bank deposits. “For the safety and comfort of our members, we must insist on no cellphone usage from guests. If you’ll be so kind as to deposit your phone in here, you can keep it with you, and we will unlock the bag when you leave.”
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips—I’d been to plenty of places where cellphones were prohibited, but nowhere that actually held them hostage. Given my day, I was more than happy to relinquish use of it. I could stand to have a few hours without social media notifications reminding me I’d nearly died in possibly the dumbest way ever.
Another vehicle screeched into the garage, and the attendant smiled and nodded at the couple who stepped out and passed us on the way to the elevator. As I followed them, I tucked the zippered bag into my clutch and fought with the clasp. I looked up just as the doors closed behind me and locked eyes with an actress I’d adored since a surfing movie when I was a teenager. She graciously waited to see if I was going to say anything, but I locked my gaze on my crimson ombré nails with black tips—was last week’s nail choice too on the nose for a date with Adrian?
The ding of the elevator snapped me back to reality.
“He said the terrace,” I blurted as I stepped off the elevator behind the other two. “I’m already late. Where’s the terrace?”
Without missing a beat, the actress pedaled backwards with an extended hand that I took. She pulled me from the elevator car and pointed up with the other hand’s index finger. “Take the stairs up another level, stay to the right, and go all the way back. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” I said with a sheepish smile. Her date gave her a knowing look, and I cringed internally. How was it possible I’d been born and raised in LA, yet still managed to come across as a naïve tourist?
The stiletto heels of my boots clicked against the polished marble floors as I veered to the left and continued up the small staircase. The second-story lounge was dimly lit, with small tables and low armchairs in a deep mahogany tucked back from the walkway. In the light of dimmed chandeliers and flickers from candles, I saw nothing but impossibly shiny hair and perfectly whitened teeth that gleamed like prisms from the beautiful people.
I scanned the area, looking for Adrian. Without night-vision, I couldn’t be sure he was even there. I also couldn’t call or text him to let him know I’d arrived.
Shit.
Blowing out a shallow breath, I headed to the bar and perched on a gilded stool with an ornate back. Only one other figure huddled nearby, hunched over his phone—obviously a member trusted with his device. His otherness made my skin tingle. He wasn’t a vampire, but he definitely wasn’t human either.
I leaned forward so my hair cloaked my face on one side, just in case he ended up being another lookie-loo with an “exclusive” picture.
The bartender flashed me a smile and set a black leather coaster in front of me. “What can I get you?”
“Maker’s on the rocks, please,” I replied. When he turned his back, someone slid into the seat beside me.
“LeRoy, my man, I think we can do better than that,” a voice called. A whiff of tobacco and sin drifted towards me, and I turned to find myself inches away from Adrian’s penetrating silver eyes. He held my gaze as he spoke to the bartender. “Two fingers of Macallan 25.”
LeRoy dumped the offending cocktail into the well sink’s drain, grabbed a clean crystal tumbler, and put a large ball of ice in it before pouring the scotch.
To me, Adrian muttered, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
That made two of us. Adrian had sent the address as promised, but I’d never responded to his message. Honestly, until I’d driven into the garage and met the bouncer in concierge clothing, I’d told myself there was still time to back out.
Who am I kidding? I chastised myself as LeRoy replaced my offensively cheap liquor choice with scotch older than I was. Coming on this date with Adrian had been a foregone conclusion from the moment he popped his head into my office—possibly longer.
“This is quite the shadowy place,” I teased, turning to face Adrian.
He cocked his head to one side, studying me. “You fit right in.” His penetrating gaze made me pause and wonder if I was in way over my head. “Care to join me on the terrace?” he added.
My leg brushed against his as I stood from the stool, sending a flutter through my stomach. Be cool, I coached myself.
His hand rested gently on the small of my back as he steered me through the tables to a set of double doors. Many of the patrons called a greeting to him, and Adrian waved but never stopped. Gratitude swept over me—as much as everyone had been talking about me online, the last thing I wanted was to be paraded around the tables like a show pony.
We stepped out onto the stone terrace and I paused, admiring the rolling lights of our city from an unobstructed view. By day, the strip malls and parking lots would’ve marred the landscape. At night, Los Angeles became a beautiful, shining beacon of promise and hope. I basked in the view and its infinite possibilities—this town could change a person’s life overnight.
I’d always known that.
The breeze rustled my hair, and Adrian reached over to tuck a strand behind my ear. An involuntary shiver ran through me, and his gaze narrowed. “Are you cold? I can have them bring a heat lamp out?”
“That’s unnecessary,” I insisted, covering my unease with a long sip of my impossibly smooth drink. Truthfully, I didn’t know if the sensation was fear or thrill, but the temperature definitely had nothing to do with it.
One of the veranda doors swung open and a young woman with a pixie cut and bright green eyes swept out with two carefully arranged plates. She set them down on the long table outside, positioned in front of a leather sofa with tufted quilting.
“Beef tartar and eggplant confit served three ways,” the server explained. “Will there be anything else?”
“Not right now, thank you, Ivette.”
Adrian gestured to the sofa, and I took a seat before peering at the plates.
“Are we playing carnivore or vegan?” I asked, smirking.
He gestured to the plates, one topped with gleaming red strips of meat curved between purple jasmine flowers, the other with freshly grilled pita and three distinct piles of sauteed vegetables smelling like heaven. “I can send it back if it’s too… bloody for you.”
“I see,” I said, draping a white linen napkin across my lap and reaching for a plate. “Does this make you the lion and me the lamb?”
Holding his gaze, I pierced a slab of raw meat from the plate. When his eyebrow raised in interest, I plopped it on a pita triangle and added eggplant before taking an enormous bite.
His lips twitched. “Good?”
“I enjoy layered, unexpected combinations,” I said, once I’d swallowed.
“Like a vampire and a human?” he asked, not bothering to keep his voice down.
I smiled sweetly. “More like cold beer and warm blood at a music festival.”
“Oh, so you enjoyed the blood? Good to know.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I stammered. “I’m still concussed from that bottle.”
Adrian’s fingers flew to the back of my head, gingerly feeling around beneath my hair for a knot. “You seem fine to me.”
After a long pull of scotch, I made another flatbread stack and sat back with my plate. “It’s shocking, right? Half the internet thinks I died. And yet… not a scratch.”
He tilted towards me, swinging an arm over the back of the couch as I chewed and watched him with narrowed eyes. “It’s remarkable. Maybe you’re a superhero. Been around any radioactive arachnids lately?”
“Would I have wasted my dignity valeting my old car here if I could scale buildings?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he countered. “Security would’ve snipped your web and put you on the blacklist.”
“I’ve been banned for worse.” I stabbed the last piece of beef and drained my glass. Adrian lifted a finger in the air, and the server appeared with two more crystal tumblers. The liquid in his was darker than mine, a deep burgundy, and I studied it as she cleared the plates.
Once we were alone on the terrace again, I leaned forward. “Let me ask you something…”
He mirrored my move, brushing a strand of hair from my eye. “By all means.”
“How long,” I whispered, “does it usually take for your dates to realize you’re not eating?”
Adrian snorted, and a grin spread over my features. It was such a ridiculous sound from someone as composed as him.
“Sometimes they never do.”
I nodded, seeming to mull it over. “So I guess I know exactly where tonight is heading.”
His brow furrowed. “Do you?”
“I will clearly have to stop at a taco truck on the way home,” I deadpanned.
His thumb reached out and rubbed my bottom lip. All the banter in the world wouldn’t change the fact it was decision time—I could still get up, leave, and make the rational choice to stay away from Adrian’s dangerous charm.
I knew what I should do. Should.
His fingers tipped my chin up as his lips brushed against mine. When his tongue darted out, he tasted like whiskey laced with venom. I clutched at the soft fabric of his fitted black t-shirt and pulled him closer.
A low moan escaped his lips before his arm wrapped around me and dragged me into his lap. His shirt bunched up between us and I slid a hand over his rippled abdomen. With his fingers threaded through my hair, he tugged back gently until I met his penetrating gaze. We stared at each for a long moment, his thumb caressing my jawbone. Desire swirled in his eyes, with a dark edge that made me shudder.
He kissed me again, gently, catching my hand in one of his and squeezing. “Do you—” His whispered question disappeared as I leaned in and took control, my palm pressing him back into the back of the couch as my tongue flicked teasingly in and out of his mouth.
Adrian’s body tensed, as if his barely existent control was waning. He brushed his nose against my neck, inhaling deeply. “Do you want to finish your drink?” he murmured.
It sounded like a threat and a promise, all at once—I downed the rest of my scotch and gave him a smug smile. Without another word, he rose and extended his hand.
I took it without hesitation, giggling at the swirl of the world as I stood. “I’m ready.”
The question of his car or mine didn’t exist as he held the door open for me on a shiny black Maybach. The parking attendant rushed over to unlock the bag with my phone, scurrying away as if it was all totally normal. As I buckled my seatbelt, my brain was pacing along a single-thought track.
I leaned back in the seat and inhaled the scent of fine Italian leather and poor decisions.
When he took his place behind the steering wheel, I swear my ovaries did a kickflip. For me, personally, there was nothing hotter than seeing a guy take command of a machine with that much horsepower.
It wasn’t for the faint of heart. As the RPMs built, so did my desire for him. We zipped up the ramp onto the street, and he took a left without hesitation.
A car zipped past painfully close on the passenger side, but I just giggled. The man was immortal—did I really need to worry about his driving abilities?
I put the window down and let the wind whip through my hair, feeling oddly free in that moment. I didn’t have to worry about the store’s take or payroll, or even what I wanted to do in the next ten minutes.
With the Santa Ana breeze flying past, we were on our way to Adrian’s. I wasn’t sure what the night held in store for me, but clearly, he had ideas.
Were those ideas anything from my fantasies? Or had I said yes to questions I’d never understand? Adrian sped up the PCH toward Malibu, and I imagined a dozen filthy scenarios in my head. Would I live to regret it, or regret to live it? Those were the only questions worth pondering.
We pulled into a shelled parking lot with wooden picnic tables and dim lighting from outdoor lamps and tall gas heaters. I shot Adrian a glance as I climbed out, wondering what the hell he’d been thinking. When I slipped for the third step in a row—stiletto boots didn’t mix with the broken oyster shells on the ground—he slid an arm behind my knees and scooped me into his embrace.
The thrill I felt as I pressed against his chest made endless possibilities pop into my head about why we were there. Maybe he had a yacht. Was there a yacht? I didn’t particularly care what Adrian’s home looked like as long as we were alone.
I couldn’t wait to be alone with him.
When he set my feet back on the ground, I looked at the food truck in front of me and cackled—he’d brought me to get street tacos.
“I abandoned my car in a Beverly Hills valet station for this?” I asked, teasing. “Going to pick the car up in the morning better be worth it.”
My breath made the slightest fog in the air as I exhaled with laughter. The calm of the salt breeze washed over me, and I relaxed in a way I hadn’t all night. I might’ve been on a date with a rockstar vampire who’d saved my life the night before, but did any of that hold a candle to a good street taco fresh off the grill?
Absolutely not. He quickly realized I couldn’t answer questions around the mouthfuls of grilled fish and cabbage, so Adrian peppered me with tales of recording their album. From the stories he told, I registered three things: one, he loved the music with a passion; two, his quiet support of the arts was staggering. The third was something that intrigued me as much as it scared me… Adrian Kane would be entirely too easy to fall in love with.
Since I didn’t have that on my bingo card for the year, I asked about his foundation and the work they did with public school music programs. We discussed the showcase at the end of the year, designed to attract new donors, as I polished off street corn from the vendor.
It was never cute to eat corn-on-the-cob in public, but something about him negated any normal dating worries. With the sparkling lights of the marina reflected off the rolling waves, our picnic felt as far from LA and the music scene as I’d ever been.
“I suppose I owe you a thank you,” I said, setting the chewed cob on my plate and wiping my mouth with a napkin.
“For what, exactly?” he teased.
I glanced down. “The radio interview. My sales are through the roof.”
His smile was wistful. “I just spoke the truth. Sunset Records is my favorite place in all of Los Angeles.”
I frowned. “Then how come I’ve never seen you there before?”
He tipped my chin so I had to meet his eyes. “A very long time ago, I knew Henry St. Clare. I suppose you could even say we were friends.”
“You knew my grandfather?” I stammered.
Pieces started falling into place. Grandad’s tales of the paranormal suddenly seemed a lot more legit. He’d actually known a vampire.
Adrian stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I knew who you were when I saw your license. I apologize for not telling you sooner.” His tone turned playful. “Will you forgive me?”
I leaned in until our lips barely brushed. “You’re lucky I’m drunk and full of delicious street tacos.” I nipped his bottom lip. “Just know, I reserve the right to unpack this further in the future.”
His fingers slid into my hair. “For you, I’ll be an open book.” Desire made his eyes gleam in the moonlight. “I’ll tell you all my deep, dark secrets if you like.” He stole a kiss. “Just as long as you’re willing to tell me yours.”
In that moment, I might’ve bared my soul to Adrian if my body didn’t have other plans. There was something about him that made me feel safe, even though I knew he was a danger to my heart. No man had ever broken down my barriers in such a short time. My need for him was equally terrifying and thrilling.
The kiss we finally shared started out sweet and ended way too soon, leaving me a little salty. Adrian rested his forehead against mine. “If you keep kissing me like that, we’re going to have a problem.”
“How so?” I teased.
He slid a hand up my thigh and squeezed. “Because I swore to myself I’d be gentleman tonight.”
I gave a dramatic sigh. “At least you’re proof that chivalry isn’t dead.” My lips curled into a wicked smile. “I hope you don’t always plan to be a gentleman, because I’m not much of a lady.”
Adrian leaned in and placed a kiss behind my ear, fangs brushing my skin and making my entire body quiver. Heat pooled in my abdomen, every fiber of my being vibrating with anticipation. Adrian ran his fangs down my neck.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “My dark side has plans for you.”
Instead of carrying me back to the car, Adrian offered an arm to steady me over the parking lot of broken shells. I took the advantage to lean heavily on him, inhaling the smell of fabric softener and something woodsy.
We took our time heading back. He expertly wound his car through the hills, taking roads and switchbacks that weren’t necessary on the way to my place. With the window down and orchestral rock playing on the car’s incredible speakers, I was in no hurry.
Too soon, he parked parallel to the curb in front of my place and something occurred to me—I’d never given Adrian my address. When I peered at him suspiciously, he seemed to read the thought from my mind.
“Can we call it a lucky guess?” he asked with a chuckle.
Smiling, I shook my head. “Your team is creepy but thorough. But sure, whatever you say.”
He followed me to my door but hovered on the stoop, his keys still in one hand.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” he said, his tone holding a hint of hesitancy. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Wanna know the truth?” I asked, tugging him toward me with the lapel of his leather jacket.
Adrian hesitated for only an instant before dipping his head and claiming my lips. I backed up until my spine hit the stucco wall behind me.
“Please,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling as his mouth backed up to hover an inch from mine.
Cocking my head back, I peered into his dark eyes.
“Those fish tacos were leagues better than anything served at your fancy supper club.”
The rumble started in his chest, rising until a deep laugh spilled from his mouth. “I’ll remember that, Ophelia.”
With a lingering kiss, he stepped back and watched while I unlocked the front door.
“Don’t make plans for tomorrow night,” he called. As I stood in the door frame, I glanced back at him and tilted my head to one side.
He sucked in a breath. “If you already have plans, cancel them. Tomorrow night, you’re mine.”