Chapter 4

 

 

 

A procession of men and women, all human, all professionally primped and dressed to look their best, crossed the stage, showing off their assets, encouraging the vampires in the crowd to bid on their services. Blood and sex and money. Our world revolved around those three commodities.

Moodily, I watched the show from the shadows, seated alone in a corner, tucked behind a tiny high-top table. A bottle of Cab almost as old as I was sat in front of me, my glass half full, the wine barely touched.

This distraction wasn’t working. Every courtesan who paraded before me reminded me of Abigail. Or didn’t—which reminded me of Abigail.

Wide, blue eyes, accented with just a touch of smoky liner at the edges, along the bottom lashes. Blonde tresses spiraling down her back, draped over her shoulder, one jaunty curl flopping over her forehead, like a tease—or a promise.

She wore a blue dress the night we met. Not red or black like most of the rest, but a bright, royal blue that made her eyes pop and complimented the light tan to her skin, and was so understated I couldn’t help but notice her.

Utter perfection. I knew I had to have her the moment I saw her, when she stepped into the room, prepared to sell herself to the highest bidder for a night of unadulterated pleasure.

It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a virgin. No one could outbid me that night.

Despite my almost immediate obsession, it was only ever supposed to be a moment in time, a temporary distraction that would sustain me and provide a sexual release until the next one came along.

I’d never taken a courtesan to my villa in Italy before. I’d never kept one around for longer than a day or two, occasionally a week. And then there was Abigail.

A statuesque blonde who lacked Abigail’s generous curves now strutted across the stage, confident despite the mark indicating she was a virgin on her chest. A wave of anticipation swept the room as many of my brethren present tonight leaned forward, each prepared to outbid the other in order to be this woman’s first.

I shifted deeper into the shadows and let my memories take over, a century old, yet as fresh as morning dew. That was the problem with being immortal; you could never go back and you could never forget. Each moment, every recollection stacked on top of all the rest, such a massive mountain you’d think it would crush me under its weight. Instead, it was simply here, all the time, reminding me. Haunting me.

 

“Well, hello there. Aren’t you…virile?”

The feminine voice, speaking from the shadows between two narrow buildings, sang to me. It had been almost fourteen years since I’d first discovered the pleasures that could be had from indulging in sexual activities with a woman, and I’d become addicted to the task. I wasn’t afraid to take advantage whenever the opportunity arose. Such as now.

“Aye. I certainly am.” Go with cocky. That got ‘em, every time. Funny, I didn’t even know what the woman looked like yet and my body was hard, my cock desperate to be free from my pants. It wanted to be buried balls deep inside the woman who owned that voice, and it didn’t give a damn what the rest of her was like.

And I wasn’t even drunk.

She chuckled. Rustling noises told me she was moving toward me. I leaned forward, eager to get a glimpse of the next woman I intended to bed.

“I like a man with confidence. And a big cock. Would you classify yours as sizable?”

She stepped out of the shadows then, a vision with fiery red tresses, wide, dark eyes, and the plumpest, rosiest lips I’d ever seen. Mounds of milky flesh spilled from the top of her tightly secured corset, and crepe and silk draped over narrow hips.

Fuck me, those lips. I wanted them wrapped around my cock. I wanted her on her knees, wanted to toy with those giant tits while she sucked me until I poured my seed down her throat.

“I would. But I think that mouth of yours can handle it.”

She threw her head back and laughed, her chest heaving while I stared, waiting for her breasts to pop free of their binding. “Oh, you are just what I’ve been looking for. I’ve decided it’s time to add to my family. I’ve become bored with the children I’ve collected thus far. But you? I do believe you could keep me entertained for quite a long while.”

“Not a family man,” I said, slapping my palm to my chest. “Let’s get that straight right up front. I’ll give ye pleasure you’ve never known before, but it won’t last forever.”

She chuckled again, much darker than before. “That’s what you think.”

I shook my head. “I’m not one to stick around. So long as we both understand that, we can head to that inn over there. I give them enough business that they always keep a room waiting for me.”

“Oh, this is definitely going to be fun.” Her skirts swished as she turned and sashayed up the street, heading toward the inn. With a quick adjustment to my swollen dick so that I could walk properly, I followed, practically panting like a dog as images of what we would soon do danced through my head.

 

“Since you don’t seem to like it.” Cam’s voice pulled me from the memory before it went sour, and when my eyes focused again, I watched him pour wine from the bottle I’d ordered and barely touched.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. Even before he’d fallen in love with Anya, Cam rarely attended the blood courtesan auctions.

“Looking for you, actually. Which begs the question: What are you doing here?”

I waved listlessly at the stage, where a beauty with ebony skin stumbled and nearly fell as she tried to make her way across the boards on six-inch stilettos. Another virgin, although this one was nervous, frightened of what she was getting herself into. I hoped whomever won her services tonight treated her fairly. Sometimes the vampires who frequented these shows forgot how fragile humans were.

“Even vampires need sustenance, and this is the most common place to get it.”

“If it’s only sustenance you’re looking for, you can arrange for that far more easily and with less expense by going directly through one of the brothel madams instead of attending this circus.” Cam surveyed his surroundings and then drank deeply of my wine.

“Hope it’s as divine as the price I paid.”

“Oh, it is. You should try it instead of sitting here moping.”

“I’m not moping.”

“Okay, pining then.”

“Go away,” I grumbled. Although I had lived in Chicago for a century, Cam was the only person I’d truly call “friend” here. Technically he was my boss, but our relationship was as such that I was comfortable speaking to him as if he were my brother.

Instead of leaving, he settled on the empty chair next to me and took another sip from his glass. “This really is an amazing vintage. I wonder how many bottles are left.”

That was the problem with fine wine. It was finite. At some point, every bottle would be drunk, every grape long gone. Wine wasn’t immortal, like the vampires who craved it. And you never knew from year to year whether there would be a good growing season. Cam, who had been a farmer before Luther had made him a vampire, understood this better than most.

With an exasperated noise, I grabbed my glass and took a drink. “Damn.”

“Right?”

I drank again. Wine and humans. Both were so delectable and yet had such short existences.

“You really are determined to stay in your funk, aren’t you?” Cam commented.

I glanced at the stage, at the madam now standing in the middle, a row of future blood courtesans behind her. The auction was about to begin, and I suddenly had no desire to be here. “Let’s go somewhere less…”

“Of a reminder?” Cam offered.

I grabbed the bottle and my glass and didn’t respond. Because I was with Cam, the head Chicago vampire, no one questioned us as we left the building with two full glasses and an open bottle of wine.

Outside, the autumn air was crisp, the wind blowing steadily off the lake. Rain was coming. Or possibly the first frost of the season. I could feel it in the air. We headed toward the river, wandering along the sidewalk, sidestepping drunken tourists and vagrants looking for an easy pocket or purse to pick, neither of us speaking until I stopped to refill our glasses.

“She’s gone,” Cam finally said. “Three days ago.”

I didn’t need to ask to whom he referred.

“Decided to take a vacation in Jamaica.”

An island in the middle of the ocean. What an utterly perfect choice, to keep me at arm’s length. Vast bodies of water and tiny islands with little protection from the sun were not on the typical vampire’s bucket list. I should be thrilled with her decision. So why did it feel like someone put a hole in my supposedly cold, dead heart?

“Which is for the best, of course,” Cam added.

“Yes,” I managed to choke out before slamming wine that deserved to be sipped.

“Since I have Intel indicating Hollis definitely is here in Chicago.”

“Shit.” He was right, though. It was for the best that a fragile human connected to Cam was nowhere near the city. We both knew without a single doubt Hollis was either scheming to try to steal Chicago again or trying to figure out how to destroy Cam, and he would go to pretty much any lengths to reach his goal. Including kill Cam’s human sister-in-law.

“What the hell happened, anyway? How’d he escape? I thought Luther and Selina were watching him.”

Selina, Hollis’s maker, and Luther, Cam’s maker, were ancient vampires who should have been able to keep Hollis under wraps until he was reformed enough to be allowed back into mainstream vampire society.

“You know better than I do how Selina is. She’s forever distracted by the next shiny item. And Luther is too distracted by her half the time.”

I groaned. “What happened?”

Cam rolled his eyes. “They went to a Broadway show.”

“Excuse me?”

“Apparently, they went to the theatre one night and were invited backstage. As I understand it, an orgy ensued. While they were both otherwise engaged for literally the entire night, Hollis managed to escape his prison.”

“Christos. I guess that answers the question of whether he’s been reformed.” The vampires in New York tended to abide by rules that, in other parts of the country, had long gone by the wayside. Most vampires would voluntarily reform their ways rather than be subjected to the various torture mechanisms the old ones had at their disposal.

“Everyone is on high alert. Anya, of course, will have twenty-four hour protection, whether she thinks she needs it or not.”

“Naturally.”

“I can’t decide what to do about Abby.”

Me either, although I doubted we were in agreement for the same reasons. “Does anyone else know she went to Jamaica?”

“Karen, but she’s as loyal as the night is long.”

“So theoretically, she’s safe.”

“Yes.”

Neither of us spoke for several minutes while we drank our wine and stared out over the river. The wind caught a handful of leaves, swirling them like a tornado as they danced down the sidewalk. I raked my fingers through my hair and blew out a sigh.

“Will you arrange for a plane?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“I need to do some research, figure out the safest place to stay.”

“I’ll have Karen make some calls, make arrangements during normal working hours.”

“Thanks.” A raindrop hit my hand as I lifted my glass to my mouth. “I’ll head to the airport as soon as the sun sets tonight.”