Page 83 of Blood and Bonbons

As Vena pickedup the knife my fall had knocked out of her hand, she pulled her phone from another strap on her thigh. I scanned the floor for mine, and realized it must have fallen out along with my boob due the bouncer’s grabby hands.

I tucked myself back in as much as I could, but Lucky had lost its charm. The strap was broken, and my left side hung heavily in the wilted lace cup. If I needed to run, there would be major problems. And with the center button missing, everyone in the world would know it.

“I can’t get reception in here,” Vena said, holding her phone in the air as if the cellular gods would find her by her will alone.

We were in over our heads.

“The bouncer must have known who we are,” I said, looking for something to use as a weapon as I continued to panic. “It’s the only reason he would have let us into a member’s only male strip club.”

“We’ll be okay.”

“Okay? You’re waving your phone uselessly in the air, and we have nothing to defend ourselves with.”

“I still have my knife.”

That made me only feel slightly better. There was no way the bouncer would come back alone. He’d have people to help him. And one little knife wouldn’t be enough.

I frantically continued my search for something. The needles were a possibility. But they’d break easily.

“Maybe if I get closer to the wall.” Vena touched her phone to each wall. “Nope.”

A sound outside the door caught my attention. It was muffled at first. Then I heard a loud bang. More shouting.

I backed away from the door as the sounds grew louder.

And louder.

Then nothing.

My heart raced faster in the ominous silence.

“What the hell is out there?” Vena whispered as we retreated farther. She stood poised, ready to throw her knife.

The door groaned then burst off its hinges. I yipped as the door fell to the floor. Vena threw her knife.

The man standing there caught it before the point could reach his forehead and casually tossed it to the side as his black-veined eyes scanned the room.

“Cross?” I said in shock.

“This is not what I meant when I said I would see you in a few hours, Everly,” he said, radiating anger.

I didn’t even care. Not about his anger and not about how damn happy I was to see a vampire. Cross was a gift-wrapped miracle who also now looked like a supermodel.

The long coppery hair he’d tied behind his head was gone, cut short on the sides and long enough on the top to style. The seventies monstrosity of a suit was gone, too, and in its place, he wore a fitted black suit, red tie, and crisp white shirt. Or what used to be a crisp white shirt. Blood had sprayed between his lapels and was smeared across his mouth.

As we stared at each other, his eyes cleared slightly. But they darkened again when his focus drifted lower.

“Where are you hurt?” he asked, his gaze locked on my chest.

“Not there,” Vena said, snapping her fingers at him with one hand while she picked up her knife with the other. “Stop leering at the twins and get us out of here.”

He crossed the room and tugged the edges of my shirt together. When he saw the missing button, he swore under his breath, slipped out of his coat, and wrapped it around my shoulders before I could even think to cover myself with my hands. Not that there was a need.

He carefully buttoned me into the bloody coat and adjusted it to ensure I was covered.

“Are you all right?” he asked, nudging my chin up with a finger so he could look at me.

The tender kindness in his gaze was almost my undoing.

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