Page 13 of Vampire Soldier

“Again, I appreciate the offer but I have to decline.”

Blake leaves, walking towards the end of the bar where she can then head towards the back of the club. Dani, my server, gives her a big hug before she takes Blake’s place at the bar. Her dark brown eyes lock onto me and she heads straight towards us.

“Can I get you another drink?” She looks to Kit. “What about you?”

“I’m good,” I say and pull out my wallet from my back pocket. I grab two crisp hundred-dollar bills and set them on the bar in front of her. “I’ll cover his tab for the night. Keep anything left over for yourself.”

Kit bristles and I turn away from Dani before he can protest. This time I don’t bother smiling. “Get home safe.”

His lip turns up in a snarl. “Is that a threat, vampire?”

I lean in closer to him, my voice growing colder. “If I was threatening you, wolf, there’d be no mistaking it.”

I slap him on the shoulder, harder than necessary, but fuck it. The male is lucky I’m not skinning him and using his wolf-pelt as an area rug. I head towards the entrance when his shout cuts over the music.

“Is she your mate, Nightshade?”

I pause, my spine becoming iron. I turn, just enough to look him in the eyes across the distance. I don’t raise my voice, knowing he can hear me just fine despite the music.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

The male’s lip quirks up, almost as if he is going to smile, before keeping his face dour. If I wasn’t staring right at him, I would have missed it. He turns away from me, raising his hand for Dani just as the dancer on stage finishes her set.

Satisfied he’s gotten the message, I exit with a nod to the bouncer. Then, take off around the corner, leaving a few startled patrons gasping. I arrive a moment before the back door of the building is thrown open.

A pissed-off Blake marches out and I’m her target.

ChapterSeven

BLAKE

There is no way he doesn’t know I’m pissed right now. Yet Malachi stands there, in the same damn sexy suit he wore today, with his hands in his pockets like he’s actually here to give me a ride home.

I open my mouth, ready to shout at him, when he steps up beside me and takes one of my hands. He then guides my hand through his arm, as if he’s escorting me to a ball in one of the Regency romance novels I’m a sucker for. He leans down, his mouth against my ear, and to anyone else it must look like he’s kissing my cheek.

“Don’t yell at me yet,” Malachi breathes out. “Sensitive ears are all around us.”

Surrounded by his warm scent, something both cool and earthy, like snow-covered cedar, it takes me a moment to register his words. When I do, I huff but don’t protest.

“You didn’t have to walk me home,” I tell him pointedly, going along with the ruse for now.

Malachi steps back and I’ve no choice except to walk with him unless I want it to look like he’s dragging me. When he doesn’t say anything while we walk through the narrow back alley, I try not to roll my eyes.

“This isn’t very professional, you know,” I try again. The supposed sensitive ears might think it’s because of the rules at the club, but he knows what I’m talking about.

“Hm.”

To my surprise, he doesn’t walk me to his Range Rover, but instead actually takes the correct direction towards my row home. I only live about a mile away from the club, one of the reasons I picked the place, but I certainly hadn’t expected Malachi to be willing to walk when he’s certainly wealthy enough not to need to.

“How was your final shift? It seems your regulars will be disappointed.”

I steal a glance up at him, kind of surprised. There’s no way he sounds jealous. It’s not like we’re actually together, no matter if he’s attracted to me or not. I shrug off the comment.

“Turnover is pretty common at clubs, so I don’t know why anyone gets favorites. Kit’s tried asking me to dinner a couple of times after I stopped dancing, but he’s never been as pushy as he was tonight. He’ll find a new favorite by next week, I’m sure.”

We come to a stop at an intersection, waiting for the few cars out this late to pass. His golden gaze is heavy on me and I look up, brows furrowed.

“You’ll tell me if you have any problems, right?” His voice is a low rumble, a reminder of the protective ferocity he surrounded me with the first night we met. “From anyone.”

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