Page 19 of Heathens

I watch them walk to a back booth as I move to serve a few more patrons. The place is really filling up quickly, and Ruby grabs another bartender to help on the other end, quickly pouring shot after shot. Soon I get lost in the mayhem of the night, dragged away in the undertow of a familiar chaos. It’s kind of nice.

As I’m cleaning small droplets of spilled blood off of the table, a gust of cool air rushes in from the front door. When I glance up, my heart nearly skips a beat.

It’s the vampire from the bank run. I’m almost certain of it. He’s dressed impeccably in a black suit with a turtleneck underneath, and what’s worse is that he looks even better up close.

I’m temporarily distracted by another customer, but my eyes keep getting drawn back to him. His gaze feels like a set of claws digging into the back of my neck. He’s standing in the middle of the dance floor while everyone else moves around him like an ocean.

Shit.

I’ve fucked my share of vampires since I started working here. What goes on in the feeding rooms stays in the feeding rooms. It’s like Vegas, but with a little more blood and a lot less gambling.

I try to look away, busying myself with polishing a glass, when suddenly, a shadow looms over me. As I glance up my eyes meet Drake, an older vampire dressed in a white suit with long silver hair. He winks, and I force a smile.

Drake is a creep. He’s always trying to grab our asses when we wear skirts. He thinks his species’ distinction makes him special, entitled to human beings. I don’t even like the fact that I know his name.

“Hiya, sugar.”

The nickname, combined with the sound of his voice, always makes my skin bristle. It’s gravelly, but there’s something about it that’s equally demanding and weaselly, like a pitch from a used car salesman. He works for Rene Deschamps, and spends most of his money here, so it’s hard to refuse him… even if we all loathe him.

I think Ruby spits in his drinks.

“What can I get you, Drake?” I ask with a sigh.

He grins and licks his yellowed fangs like a hungry dog. The tooth beside his left fang is gold,puregold he’ll tell you, as if it matters. His eyes crinkle at the edges, but the smile doesn’t quite touch them. Even over the music, I can hear the disgusting sounds he makes as he slurps up his drink. It makes me want to throw up.

“Don’t look so pleased to see me,” he purrs. “How about five minutes alone with you in that feeding room?”

The world may have changed, but men haven’t. If anything, they’re worse.

“Five? You got a stamina issue or something?”

“Why are you such a cunt?”

“Why are you so persistent?” I fire back. “It’s pathetic. Anyway, I’m not working the rooms tonight.”

“You’ve never even given me a shot.”

Ruby pulls her gun out of her holster and lays it on the counter.

“Watch yourself. Unless you wanna suck on this all night.”

He ignores her.

“Come on, sugar. Just five minutes. We could even go to the alley.”

I chuckle, leaning over and giving him a tiny view of the breasts he’ll never be able to touch.

“I got a proposition for you.”

“Yeah?” He rumbles, his eyes glued to my tits.

“Yeah. How about you take your dick, stick it in the doorframe, and I slam it in there as hard as I can?”

He frowns, readying what’s certainly going to be another great comeback, but…

“Drake Kingston, right?”

A hand is already on his shoulder. I didn’t even see him walk up, but a pair of icy blue eyes are staring down at Drake. The man’s voice is rough, raspy, and deep.

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