Page 79 of Addicted in Blood
“I know.Like I said, I’m just feeling left out in the cold.Some time and space will help me work through it.”I sighed.“Devon and I had gotten so close before he was drugged.”
“He’s had a traumatic experience.Just because he’s a vamp and the leader of a House doesn’t mean he can’t get PTSD.He needs time, too.”
“I know.”Although I wasn’t sure I did.“I’ll call in the morning and see what’s up.”Then I hung up before she could say anything else.Confident I’d have a place to crash, I kept walking.As dangerous as the Hollows could be, I’d always felt safe here.These were my peeps—for better or worse.And I always preferred taking a walk on the wild side.
I’d walked a few more blocks until I was in the center of the Hollows.Even at this hour, the clubs were busy, at least those that catered to the supernatural.The area had been the affluent section of town before everyone moved mid-town decades ago.As the neighborhood shifted, the old homes had transitioned to clubs, shady businesses, and down trodden restaurants, some of which had decent food.
I turned down a side street to circle the block and make the long trek to the condo when I noticed another club farther up the street where several people were headed.A small sign in the window said The Den.
Decker’s club.
Curiosity pushed me forward, and I blended in with the group as they entered the club.Two vamps were at the door, and other than give me a once over, let me pass without question.The Den was more than a normal club; it was a fight club, and the cages would most likely be in the basement.
The first thing I noticed was the high ceilings that even with the dark walls and low lighting gave the room an airier feeling.The place was crowded, but I found a spot at the end of the bar that gave me a view of most of the room.
The blonde woman at the end of the bar held up a finger in my direction.I nodded and turned to scan the room.Muffled yelling could be heard beyond the closed doors on the far side of the room.A sure sign fights were underway.When the bartender came over, I ordered a chilled vodka neat and scrounged through the bowl of nuts.
I was working on my second drink when the doors to the fight club opened, and the crowd pushed toward the cages.Once the doors closed, only a handful of customers remained that I guessed to be regulars—some sitting at the bar, others scattered among the tables, most with their heads down.
I was considering another drink when the bartender sauntered over to restock glasses.She gave me a side glance.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
I shook my head.“First time.”
“Welcome to The Den.I’m Sabrina.”
“Cressa.”
We chatted about the club and the fights.After she poured my third drink, I worked up my nerve.
“By any chance, is Decker here tonight?”
She’d been refilling the olives in the garnish tray when she stopped and turned to me.“You didn’t mention you knew Decker.”
I shrugged.“He’s more of an acquaintance through a mutual friend.”
She eyed me with more interest than earlier.Then she paled a bit.“Your friend wouldn’t happen to be a vampire.”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Decker doesn’t have many friends.”
“And without this human, I might have had one less.”
We both turned to see Decker, who’d stepped up from a hallway I’d assumed was for the staff.
“Decker.I’m sorry to bother you.”I wasn’t sure what to say.I’d been on the fence about whether to reach out to him and had been leaning against it until the vodka changed my mind.
“No, you’re not.But I’m glad you came.Let’s talk in my office.”
Sabrina shot me a look that I couldn’t read.I had a strange feeling she knew why I was here and also knew Devon quite well.Something told me Sabrina was another shifter and had been around for some time.I didn’t want to know what kind of relationship she had with Devon.She seemed like someone I’d like to know better.
I followed Decker down the hall into an office large enough to hold a desk with the obligatory two guest chairs, a small mini-bar, and a less formal sitting area.He stopped at the fridge, pulled out a bottle of top-shelf vodka, grabbed a couple of glasses, and dropped into his desk chair.I sat in one of the two stiff-backed chairs, which were uncomfortable enough to discourage long visits.
He poured two generous shots and pushed one toward me.
I lifted a brow.“Are you a vodka man?”
