Page 18 of Heathens

As we head through the doors, I’m immediately hit by an intoxicating mixture of cigarette smoke, iron, and alcohol. Music booms through the speakers, so loud that it rattles my skull.

I’m surprised to find the interior of the bar is exquisite, with stained glass windows peppering the walls and century-old brick locking it all in place. All the pews have been ripped out and replaced by tables. There are open “confessional booths” that act as VIP areas for guests to sit and drink without being disturbed. I expected a gaudy mess, but they really pulled it all together.

A DJ stands at the back of the room on a pulpit, headphones on as he spins records. There are humans in old Gogo cages hanging from the ceiling, gyrating to the music as they overlook a sea of my kin, all grinding up against each other on the dance floor. Dozens of vampires pulse like a vein while they pour shots of blood down each other’s bodies and lick it off.

How the fuck haven’t I been here before?

Humans move through the crowds with ease as they serve out their drinks, both blood and alcohol. A few of them seem to recognize me, but say nothing as I continue to take everything in. For serving staff, they’re all surprisingly well armed.

Finally my eyes land on the redhead at the bar, and time seems to stop. She’s even more beautiful up close. A tight black dress hugs her in all the right places. Her eyes are the most mesmerizing shade of green, offsetting the fake smile she flashes as she takes orders.

I drift through the crowd, staring only at her. Everything else is background noise. The closer I get, the more intoxicating I find her. When she catches my eye, I can see her give a moment’s pause before recognition hits her like a bolt of lightning. I tilt my head with curiosity. Does she recognize me, or does sheknowme?

Luke taps me on the shoulder. I was so caught up in her that I didn’t even notice him bouncing along beside me. I have to resist the urge to push him away.

“Boss, you got money?” He asks with a big smile. “I wanna head for the feeding rooms.”

I dig into my wallet and casually hand him a few thousand dollars in cash. That should get him out of my hair for a while.

“Knock yourself out, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Dom – Er, Boss! Thanks Boss!”

He bolts for the heavily guarded back rooms and doesn’t look back.

I make my move toward the bar, her eyes darting back to me as I approach. Just as I’m about to take a seat, another vampire slides into the stool in front of me. Right in front of my cute redhead.

He’s got silver hair and a bone white suit. Even from the back of his head I recognize him as one of Rene’s little goons.

But most importantly, he’s sitting in my seat.

Staring atmygirl.

SOFIE

Nox Nightclub

“Yourdrinkisonthe counter.” Ruby pats my shoulder while I work on hooking up the last blood bag to the dispenser.

“Thanks, babe.”

Once I’m finished, I get to my feet and am immediately confronted with a sea of customers. No rest for the wicked, I suppose.

But I’m here to sling drinks and look damn good doing it.

I jump right into the action and start taking orders. It doesn’t take me long to get back into the swing of things in all the soft chaos of the bar. Honestly, I’m grateful for any distraction. After a while, I’m greeted by a breathtakingly beautiful couple holding hands leaning up against the counter. The man has a square jaw and prominent cheekbones that are his most defining facial feature, along with slightly sunken eyes and thick brows.

His girlfriend has golden hair, a sculpted face, and a long straight nose with full lips. She’s wearing a tight sapphire dress made of shiny latex, and minimal makeup. She smiles at me and I return the gesture, my cheeks heating up. Some of these vampires are so good looking that one glance from them can make my knees knock together.

“What can I get you?” I ask.

“Two shots, O negative for her and B positive for me,” the man replies.

It all tastes different, or so I’ve been told. These vamps are wealthy enough that they can afford to have a preference. It’s like the difference between the people that are happy with 10 dollar wine, and the ones that don’t break a sweat popping corks on bottles worth thousands.

“Coming right up.” I fill each shot glass with their respective blood type until it’s nearly to the rim before sliding them across the counter with an empty smile. “Eighty for both.”

The man gives me a hundred and I tuck the change into the tip jar beneath the bar as he and his girlfriend sniff at their drinks. They almost always double check to make sure that they’ve gotten what they asked for. I used to be a fucking hematologist, but you think they believe me when I tell them I know my shit? Of course not. It’s been an entire year, with some of these vamps here almost every night, and they still don’t trust us to get it right.

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