Page 63 of Dark Souls

“Wait!” I called out after him, but before I could follow him, two bouncers blocked my path.

“Come with us.”

“Only if you take me to see The Dealer.” I folded my arms over my chest. “As a member of this club, I demand to see The Dealer! And I will fight my way to him if I must.”

One bouncer chuckled, exchanging a glance with the other. “Your funeral.”

Sammi gave me a half-convincing thumbs-up as I walked past her and followed behind the bouncers while every single pair of eyes in the room studied me. I put my head down, hoping no one would recognise me and ground my teeth together.

So much for not making a fucking scene.

Never Better

Thebouncerinfrontof me led me down another dark hallway, which felt like we were heading deeper underground. I glanced over my shoulder at the bouncer behind. His dark gaze gave nothing away, but as his eyes locked with mine, I heard his thoughts.

What the fuck had The Dealer losing his shit over this piece of skirt? Must be some fine pussy if it’s got him losing his cool. Or perhaps she’s about to lose her membership too. Damn shame if that’s the case. She’s a hot, young thing. If The Dealer has no use for her, I’ll take her on myself. I need a new plaything.

I scoffed, causing his eyes to narrow. “Yeah, okay, buddy. I’d like to see you try.”

“Try what?” he asked, baffled.

I smirked, turning back around and leaving him confused. I started planning an escape route if things went tits up. I was pretty sure I could take them both on pretty easily. One was a dhampir vampire and the other a wolf. As long as I took the wolf out first, I’d be golden. The man in front stopped in front of a steel door. He tapped it with his knuckle before giving me a pointed glare.

“Wait here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I held my hands up in surrender. He opened the door, slipping in before shutting it. The man behind me cleared his throat as I peered over my shoulder at him, catching his lingering gaze on my ass.

“Keep that up, buddy. Let’s see where it gets you.” I winked at him. Yeah, I’d kill him before he laid a hand on me, but now I also knew, so would my mate. My chest filled with warmth because of that knowledge. Grandma was right. On some level, Red wanted me. Or he at least was feeling the effect of our bond because he didn’t want anyone else having me either. Wolves were known for being possessive of their mates, but personally, I think vampires are way worse. Where a wolf might fight or injure in a fit of jealousy, a vampire will kill without warning. It was just the way we were wired. It’s what makes us so unpredictable and ruthless. Two qualities Red clearly possessed.

The door opened wide and the bouncer nodded me through. I strutted past him to find myself in a large, depressing space. It was pretty vacant except for two armchairs and a table on one side of the room and a makeshift bar on the other. I paused when I saw his broad back, his head dipped low as his arms worked something in his hands on the surface of the bar.

“Leave us,” he demanded, his tone laced with deep gravel and fierce dominance. The bouncer closed the door behind me and I lifted my chin, waiting for him to turn around and face me so he could look me in the eye and explain himself for being the world’s most infuriating bellend in existence. But he didn’t. Instead, he carried on doing whatever he was doing with his back to me. I took a moment to study him as I crossed my arms over my chest. It was a challenge to not drool over the way his back muscles rippled with every slight movement of his arms but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. His tanned skin was so covered in dried blood, I couldn’t tell how much was his and how much belonged to others. His ripped jeans, which showed off a perfectly firm ass, were also covered in blood. The air was potent with a coppery tang of the brutality he’d committed. But there was another scent in the air. The dark and erotic mix of bergamot, mandarin and lavender had my fangs tingling and heat travelling between my legs. I inhaled deeper, closing my eyes for a moment as the memories that scent evoked came rushing back. He smelled of sinful fantasies and a perfectly clear night after a storm had cleansed the air.

“I thought I told you to forget me.”

The words were like a slap in the face.

I was going to kill him. I was going to be the first member of my family to murder their soulmate. The anger tore through me, bubbling just below the surface like red-hot lava, ready to cause total destruction. But instead of erupting immediately, I narrowed my eyes with a vindictive smirk as I observed him with his head hung low to his chest. Therapy with Grandma had taught me that becoming nuclear and turning to violence never got me anywhere good. Communicating my feelings was the key to understanding. But everything in moderation, right? He lifted a piece of white cloth that was soaked in alcohol and wrapped it around his torso. When he lifted his arm, I saw the large wolf bite in his side. His jaw clenched as the wound stung against the alcohol, but he didn’t make a sound.

Ignoring the damn concern that tried to replace my anger, I made my way over to him with confidence. I physically saw every muscle in his back tense when he felt me approaching. My fingers brushed against the white bandage around his waist and his hands froze their action of tying it in a knot.

“Let me help you with that,” I whispered with an edge of seduction in my voice. I gently took the ends of the bandage from his hands, hating the pleasurable ripple that just the touch of our skin caused down my spine and tied the knot myself. His head tilted slightly to watch me, giving me a glimpse of his side profile, splatters of blood and bruises across his skin and that silver eyebrow bar that caught the artificial light in the morbid room. Suddenly, I yanked the bandage extremely tight as I dug my fingers into his wound before tying the knot tightly in place. He jolted forwards, hissing a little through his teeth, but then a wide, sadistic grin appeared on his face. He peered over his shoulder. His dangerous, glimmering eyes shone with amusement, which only made me dig my nails in deeper.

“I guess I deserved that.”

I scoffed. “You guess? Forget me? Fucking forget me? As if you were that memorable to begin with.”

“Well, the message obviously wasn’t clear enough. Because here you are. Fucking up my night,” he said with such arrogance. My fangs snapped down and nails extended, but he stepped away from me, moving around the bar to grab a bottle of vodka and putting some distance between us.

“I’m fucking up your night? Wow! You really are an arrogant, narcissistic prick.” I released a disbelieving laugh as I shook my head and tried to remain as unaffected as he appeared to be in my presence. See, growth. Grandma would be so proud. “That’s rich. Need I remind you; it was you who caused the fucking scene out there, not me.”

He raised an eyebrow as he poured himself a drink but didn’t even meet my eye.

“I know big egos have small ears but try to hear me when I tell you I am not here for you. Far from it, actually.”

“You think I have small ears?” He leaned back on the bar counter and took a sip of his neat vodka casually. It was unnerving how only ten minutes ago, he’d appeared as the most soulless, maniacal psychopath and now, he was the image of nonchalance.

“I think you have an enormous ego,” I corrected.

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