Chapter Seventeen

Vaughn was right—The Drainers didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave Diablo.

Instead, they rented the top floor of a beachside luxury hotel and then threw a party.

“I tried to get out of this,” Vaughn insisted as we walked to the suite.

“Yet we’re still headed to the debauchery,” I replied. “Debauchery” was an understatement. “It’s okay,” I reassured Vaughn. “Maybe Skyler will be here.”

When we arrived, Gary was at his post guarding the door as a stream of Bleeders walked through, all dressed in skimpy white outfits.

I was in a crappy mood. A party had been the beginning of my problems, but I highly doubted it would be the end to them.

It had been harder than I’d expected to get Travis alone to steal his hair. He was always with someone: Bleeders, the guys in the band, even Gary. And I couldn’t just whip out a pair of scissors and aim them casually at a vampire. Turned out they weren’t exactly fond of long, pointy things.

Skyler wasn’t in the common area of the hotel suite. She was probably back in one of the bedrooms with Travis.

Armando was behind the bar, mixing drinks with a liberal hand. “What can I get you to drink, my lovely Tiffany?” he asked me, ignoring the three groupies who stood there waiting.

“Just water, thanks,” I said. He didn’t ask Vaughn what he wanted, so I added, “Water for my boyfriend here, too, please.”

Armando’s fingertips touched mine when he handed me our bottles. There was blood embedded in his nails, and I repressed the need to wash my hands. “You smell delicious,” he said, which I ignored.

Travis and Skyler emerged from one of the bedrooms. Her eyes were glassy, and there was a fresh bite mark on the upper part of her chest, which I could see, since Travis hadn’t bothered to pull her top up.

I waited until Travis let go of Skyler, and then, when I thought no one was watching, I pulled her top back on.

When I looked up, Armando was staring at me.

“Vaughn, when are you going to let me take a bite out of your delicious girlfriend?” Armando asked, like I should be flattered.

“How about never?” Vaughn replied.

Ozzie and Travis chuckled like it was the funniest thing Vaughn had ever said. “Armando can be very convincing,” Ozzie said. “And he doesn’t mind sharing.”

“Well, I do,” Vaughn said firmly. He had been right about posing as a couple to protect each other from The Drainers and their hangers-on.

Vaughn took my hand and led me to one of the large sofas in the entertainment area. He sat and then pulled me onto his lap. I perched there awkwardly until Armando wandered over, and then I wrapped my arms around Vaughn and draped myself all over him.

I shivered when Armando’s eyes met mine. “I think your girlfriend’s cold,” he said to Vaughn. “Want me to warm her up for you?”

Instead of answering him, Vaughn nuzzled my neck and whispered, “Remember what we talked about.”

“You want to kiss me?” I asked in a whisper.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes.” The word was barely out of my mouth before his lips were on mine. His arms pulled me tight against his body. As the kiss deepened, I forgot about the vampires who were watching, forgot that it was all for show, forgot everything except for the feel of Vaughn’s body next to mine.

He kissed me breathless. We broke apart, gulping air, but seconds later, Vaughn went back in. This kiss went on until one of the guys let out a long whistle. “Get it!”

Even though I was blushing, I stayed on Vaughn’s lap.

“I want a kiss,” Travis said. “How about it, Tiffany?”

“No way,” Vaughn said in a growl.

Travis growled back, low and menacingly. He looked like he would attack Vaughn just for the fun of it.

“Yeah, no way am I kissing you,” I said. “I saw that bat video. I know where your mouth’s been.”

The guys in the band laughed, and the tension left the room, but Travis’s eyes followed me on and off for the rest of the night.

…

Between practices and gigs, Vaughn was developing hard calluses on his hands. The Drainers had performances scheduled back to back. We didn’t want to rouse their suspicions, so he’d made it to every gig.

“We’re lucky you don’t have to stay on the tour bus with them,” I said.

Vaughn made a face. “You’re lucky, too. That place is a pit.”

Being a vampire-band groupie was nowhere near as fun as I’d imagined it would be. In other words, even more terrible than expected.

The guys talked about themselves. A lot. They reeked like a toxic waste dump simmering in the California sun. And their groupies were mean, probably anemic, and definitely fought constantly among themselves. Still, the girls didn’t deserve the treatment the band gave them—especially Travis.

After tonight’s performance, the venue had mostly emptied out, except for the band and a few chosen groupies, when Travis and Armando started to argue.

“Mine!” Travis growled, and then he and Armando were rolling around onstage, punching each other as they went. They knocked over a mic stand but kept going, and nobody tried to stop them. Gary scurried around loading the equipment and didn’t even look over at the two fighting band members.

Vaughn and I watched them from the table where we sat with Natasha, Skyler, and Alice, who’d become Armando’s new favorite.

Finally, the guys stopped fighting and lay on the stage next to each other, panting. One of them would occasionally kick the other one, but they seemed to be cooling off.

“Why do vampires have to be so dramatic?” I said, yawning. “Anyway, it’s past my bedtime.”

The guys had gotten to their feet, and it looked like the show was over. “Were they fighting over a girl?” Vaughn asked.

Natasha snorted. “They’d never,” she said. “There are too many of us.”

“Take them off,” Travis suddenly screeched.

“You want them so bad?” Armando asked.

“Yes,” Travis said. “They’re my favorite pair.”

“Fine.” Armando’s hands went to his waist, and then he shucked off his black leather pants and threw them at Travis, which left Armando standing there in tight boxer briefs and a smile.

Vaughn caught me looking and clapped his hands over my eyes. Objectively, Armando was gorgeous, with long-lashed brown eyes, a square jawline, and a wiry yet muscular body. But he was a creep, and all the pretty in the world couldn’t make up for that.

“They’re fighting over pants?” I choked out, trying not to giggle.

“But they’re leather,” Vaughn mocked, quoting an old movie we’d watched a few months ago.

To my surprise, Skyler started to giggle. The dullness in her eyes cleared. “Remember that time my stepmother got into a fight at a Black Friday sale at La Perla?”

I smiled at her, and for a second, it was like we’d never become entangled with the vampires.