Page 30 of Blood Bound

“I don’t think this is going to be a drive-thru meal, my friend,” Marcus says drily. “It’s not like the place is swarming with witches.”

He’s right. Unlike the blood groupies, who come here in numbers, witches and vampires are like oil and water.

Despite this, it’s a thinly veiled secret that there are some who flout the unspoken rules, consorting even though centuries of animosity come between us. And it is in places like this, the Nocturne Lounge – where secrecy and discretion reign supreme – that they can be found. The thrill-seekers, the power-mongers, the rare blood-magic practitioners. There’s no telling who I’ll encounter tonight, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t have the luxury of being picky. There may be none here at all.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” says Marcus, running an eye over the crowd. He doesn’t need to explain further. I know he’ll be busy for at least an hour. First, it will be the hunt, then the seduction, and finally, the thrill of taking down his willing prey. I really don’t relish the idea of being around for that.

I jerk my head in acknowledgment as he disappears into the crowd, and then I lean with my back against the bar, taking in the room. The Nocturne Lounge is a sea of faces, some known to me, most not. Vampires dominate, their pale skin almost luminous in the low light. Humans mill about, their pulses quickening as they brush past. But I’m not interested in either tonight.

“Patience,” I mutter to myself. I want to get out of here, but I know that’s unlikely.

As the night wears on, I notice subtle shifts in the crowd. A pattern emerges, so faint that even most vampires would miss it. In the far corner, a dark-haired woman in a deep purple dress catches my eye. She’s beautiful, but that’s not what draws my attention. It’s the way she moves, the slight shimmer of energy around her, that only those attuned to magic would notice.

A vampire approaches her, his movements casual but purposeful. They exchange a few words, their body language screaming discretion. As they part, I catch a glimpse of something passing between them – a vial, perhaps?

My interest piqued, I continue my surveillance. Near the VIP section, a group of vampires huddle close. Among them stands a petite blonde, her presence seemingly unremarkable. But as I focus, I sense the unmistakable aura of a witch.

These interactions are fleeting, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. But they’re there – vampires and witches, engaging in clandestine exchanges under the cover of the club’s chaos.

“You see it?” Marcus murmurs, suddenly reappearing at my side. His hair is tousled and there’s a smear of lipstick on his cheek.

I nod, my eyes never leaving the room. “It seems our kinds can play nice when it suits them.”

I keep watching closely, catching more of these subtle encounters. A handshake that lingers too long, a whispered conversation in a secluded booth, meaningful glances exchanged across the dance floor. The Nocturne Lounge, it appears, is more than just a vampire haunt. It’s a neutral ground where age-old enemies conduct their secret affairs.

Why have I paid so little attention to this before?

Because you never needed it.

Turning to Marcus, I turn a meaningful eye to the woman I’d previously spotted in the far corner. She’s thrown the occasional glance my way, probably aware that I’ve been watching her.

“I think it’s time,” I tell him, pushing away from the bar and heading away.

I approach the witch in purple, my steps measured and purposeful. As I near, her scent washes over me – a heady mix of lavender and something darker. She turns to face me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of challenge.

“You’ve been watching me,” she says.

“How could I not?” I say, allowing a touch of my ancient charm to color my words.

She raises a dark eyebrow, her plum-tinted lips curving into a knowing smile. “And here I thought I was being discreet.”

“Discretion is my specialty,” I reply, leaning in almost close enough for my lips to brush her hair. “Perhaps we could share some…secrets?”

Her laugh is low and melodious. “Dangerous words in a place like this, vampire.”

We dance around each other with words, a delicate game of cat and mouse. She’s clever, this witch, her responses carefully measured. But I can sense her interest, the thrill she gets from this forbidden interaction.

“I come here often,” she admits after a while, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “There’s something intoxicating about the danger, don’t you think?”

I nod, my eyes never leaving hers; they’re wide, the blue of them bordering on indigo. “And what brings a witch like you to a vampire’s lair so frequently?”

She smirks, reaching into her purse to reveal a small vial filled with dark liquid. “Business, of course. Some of your kind have quite the taste for witch blood.”

“And what about those who prefer a more…direct approach?” I ask, my gaze dropping to her neck for just a moment.

She tenses slightly, but I can see the excitement in her eyes. “That’s not usually on the menu.”

I drop my voice to a volume that’s barely audible above the thump of the bass, but my words brush her skin. I notice a little prickle of gooseflesh shimmer over her shoulder where the purple fabric frames her throat. “Perhaps we could make an exception, just this once?”

---