Page 10 of Kiss of Light

Lemar lounged on the plush sofa, watching the humans gyrate around on the dancefloor below. Nearly a hundred years of living among them and he was still fascinated by their utter conviction that dancing whilst drunk was a good look.

Camille touched his arm and he turned to her. She was stunning, her long hair pinned up to show off her slim neck. He suspected she’d done that deliberately because she wanted him to bite her and make her immortal. She probably had visions of being young and beautiful forever, with only the minor downside of having to suck blood for all eternity.

Damned popular culture. Everyone thought they knew all there was to know about vampires. They didn’t know shit.

He eyed her neck regretfully. Itwasa beautiful neck. Smooth and unmarked. And that was how it would remain. Because even in bed, he maintained an iron grip on his self-control. Fucking humans was fine. Feeding off them was something he would never do again.

“Champagne, my love?” Camille asked. She knew he liked the taste, even if alcohol did nothing for him. “I can go get some…” she made to stand and he pulled her down.

“Allow me.”

He made eye contact with the nearest dancer, a young man who clearly spent a lot of time in the gym. Lemar let his pupils dilate, the black widening until his sable irises were eclipsed. He felt the man’s will fall under his own.

Lemar beckoned him up the stairs.

“Would you please fetch us some champagne?” he inquired, his voice as deep and rich as velvet. “A bottle of the Bollinger will suffice. In fact, make it two.”

The man nodded and headed down the stairs towards the bar. Lemar watched him as he pushed his way through the crowd.

“I hope he brought his credit card,” he murmured to Camille. She didn’t answer and he saw she was peering towards the entrance. “Are you looking for someone?”

“What? Oh, no. Just people-watching. You know.”

She seemed distracted, as she had been all evening. He considered trancing her, as he’d done the young man, to make her tell him what the matter was. But then he mentally shrugged.

Camille was a dalliance, a new toy. He wouldn’t be with her for long, maybe a few more days. He simply wasn’t interested in her emotions. So when she stood for a second time, he didn’t try to stop her.

“I’m going to the bathroom, my sweet. I won’t be long.”

She left, just as the young man returned with a magnum of champagne and a dazed expression.

“Thank you,” Lemar said, looking straight into his eyes. “Now fuck off and forget all about this, there’s a good boy.”

Obediently, the young man returned to the dance floor and rejoined his drunk friends, who barely noticed he’d been gone.

Lemar shook his head. How humans had become the dominant species here was a mystery to him. He reached for the champagne bottle and froze.

Someone was watching him. Or something.

The hairs rose on his forearm. Vetali were predators, and predators knew when they were being stalked.

Feigning nonchalance, he poured himself a glass of fizz. He lifted it to his lips, leaning back on the sofa and casually glancing round the members’ area as if taking in the scenery. Nothing in the immediate vicinity. He glanced down to the main floor below.

She drew his attention like a homing beacon.

The thumping music, the voices, the smell of alcohol and perspiration, all faded to the background. She stood on the far side of the dance floor, arms folded, her stillness accentuated by the gyrating shapes around her.

Her gaze was cool and direct, her sky blue eyes pinned on him unwaveringly. Her fine-boned face was framed by a cascade of honey blonde hair. She was undeniably beautiful, but it wasn’t her physical appearance that arrested him. It was more than that.

There was something about this woman that called to him. A presence. A coiled strength. His heart, which beat less than four times an hour, suddenly thumped hard in his chest. A double punch that left him breathless.

His claws lengthened, digging into his palms. He felt his canines sharpen. But he couldn’t turn away, couldn’t break the stare of the woman who held him hypnotized.

And every cell in his body, every sinew and every nerve ending, snarled out one word as he looked at her.

Mine.

Five

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