going there.” “Yeah, it’s not exactly a charming place.”
I turned a corner and No Regrets loomed before us, the place painted black so you couldn’t delineate it from the dark night sky. A bright red electric sign screamed from the wall and looked like it was floating. A line was already forming around the building. It was the one place where all the creatures of the Netherworld hung out. You might get a few humans thrown in here and there but most times, Bram kept them out. Most Netherworld creatures weren’t crazy about hanging out with humans.
“Crap, look at the line,” Sam said.
I pulled up in front and noticed Bram standing outside with Nick, the ogre. Nick was huge-just shy of eight feet, and he was as big as a wall. Nick’s face was broad, and his nose was flat and wide, with a bull’s ring through the middle. His eyes were too small for his face and his mouth, too big.
Ogres are known for having terrible tempers, and Nick was no exception. I’d seen him bounce a few wily wolves, and it hadn’t been pretty. Broken bones had been the result…and not Nick’s.
A huge smile lit Bram’s handsome face. He was tall-six-five and broad. Standing next to Nick, though, he looked emaciated. When Bram had been turned into a vampire, he’d had a day’s or so growth of stubble, so now he permanently looked the rogue. His looks tied with his English accent gave Colin Firth a run for his money (and I mean when Colin was the Mr. Darcy). “Ladies, ladies,” he said, materializing directly next to Sam. She tightened her jaw, but other than that, she looked totally at ease. “Can I park in the back, Bram?” I asked, noting there wasn’t a spot to be had on the street. He rested his long fingers on the Wrangler’s passenger door. “Please. Park next to me. I am pleased to see you both.” Sam rolled her eyes, and I just shook my head. Bram was the quintessential flirt. “Are you going to let go so I can go park or what?” He smirked with a great show of fangs and let go of the door as if it’d been scalding hot. Course, he was dead, so he wouldn’t notice cold or heat or anything else.
I pulled into the back of the No Regrets lot. Bram’s black Porsche beamed under the lamplight like it was proud of itself. I parked in the space next to it.
“Hopefully, Bram will be too busy tonight to bother us,” I said. “After I get my information out of him, that is.”
Sam laughed. “He seems to always make time where you’re concerned.”
I just shook my head and turned the car off as Sam and I jumped out. The back way in was always locked, so we walked around the front. As we passed the long line, I didn’t miss the angry yells and insults those still stuck in line threw at us. “Hey!” Nick yelled down the line. “Take it elsewhere if you don’t like it.” “Hi, Nick,” I said, always a little intimidated by the gargantuan guy. He was like looking up a redwood tree. “Dulcie and Sam,” he said with a drop of his head. Nick had it something bad for Sam, but she was as scared of him as I was. “Ah, you got my message, sweet,” Bram said, coming up behind us.
Tension filtered through my shoulders at the mention of “sweet”. Bram thought it was cute or something- Dulce meaning sweet in Spanish. So not original and so freaking annoying.
“I have some Regulator business to discuss with you, Bram,” I said.
He just smiled and leaned his elbow against Nick’s shoulder, who was sitting on a barstool. Bram reached for Sam’s hand and brought it to his lips.
“Lovely to see you, Samantha.”
She grumbled something unintelligible and started for the door. Nick gazed at her like she was chocolate and he was on a diet. Bram reached for my hand, but I batted his away. “Just say hello like any normal person would, Bram.” He chuckled and dropped his hand. “Do you have your identification on you, Dulcie, Sweet?” “My ID?” I repeated while irritation blazed through me. The bastard was going to ID me? “If you are on business, I need to see your A.N.C. ID, Sweet. It’s only standard protocol.” My ID was sitting on my desk looking at the ceiling and doing me absolutely no good. Goddamit. “I don’t have it,” I said. “What was that, Sweet?” Bram repeated.
I extended my hand, knowing I’d have to deal with his ministrations if I were to get inside the club and get him to answer even the simplest of questions. He took my hand and rather than kissing it, pulled me into the hard length of his chest. I squeaked in protest as he bent his head, grabbing my neck to hold me in place. Then he kissed me over my jugular. My heart pounded in my chest, as if it wanted to bust free and punch him in the face.
When he let go, I nearly lost my footing. “You son of a,” I started.
Bram’s raspy laugh interrupted me. Nick pretended he hadn’t seen anything, but his face was too red to deny the fact that he had. If I’d been in the right frame of mind, I might’ve actually thought an embarrassed ogre was pretty funny. “Please, Sweet, go inside, and I will join you shortly,” Bram said. I turned on my heel and walked inside.
FOUR
I took a seat next to Sam at a table with a “Reserved” sign. As far as I was concerned, it was reserved for us.
“What do you want to drink?” I asked, practically screaming over the loud techno music. No Regrets was a pretty happening spot-it was maybe ten-thirty, and already, the place was packed.
“Vodka tonic please.”
I approached the bar, glancing over my shoulder at the throng of dancers on the floor. A black light sporadically spotlighted them, making them look like they were moving in slow motion.
“Hi Dulce, how’s it going?” Angela, the bartender asked. Leaning against the bar, she pushed her long electric blue bangs out of her face. Last time I’d seen her, her hair was bright yellow but still long in the front and butch short in the back. I smiled. “Hi Angela, it’s going. How’s business?” “Good, been real busy lately. What can I get for you?” “Vodka tonic and a Mojito, please.” She nodded and I felt Bram’s shadowy presence behind me. “That kiss was totally uncalled for,” I whispered. “Ah, Dulce, I just could not help myself.”
I took my Mojito as Bram reached for Sam’s Vodka Tonic. I fished inside my purse, fingered my credit card, and tossed it on the bar. Angela reached for it but paused once Bram shook his head.
“It is on the house, Sweet,” he purred.
“Put them on the card, Angela. Thanks. And Bram, don’t pull another stunt like that again.”
Bram’s chuckle was deep. “Excuse me for offering to buy you a drink. If this is how you are with men, it’s no wonder I never see you on a date.”
“I was talking about the kiss, Bram.” I put the glass back on the bar, turning to face him. “And my personal life is none of your business.”
He took a step closer until I could smell the mint of his gum. “It is my business if I wish to be in it.”
“Ugh, would you get over yourself?” I turned on my heel and started for the table, but Bram’s hand on my arm stopped me. I turned around and something in his eyes pulled at me. I could read the desire in his gaze like I was reading a page in a book.
“What the hell was that, Bram?” I demanded through gritted teeth, pulling my arm away from him as if he were contagious. Vampires were notorious for pulling stunts with their eyes-persuading someone to take whatever actions the vampire desired. But, Bram wasn’t supposed to bewitch me with his eyes-I should’ve been too powerful to even get an inkling of the feeling he’d just sent me.
“It is my birthday in two months, Sweet.”
Great. Every hundred-year birthday would find a vampire stronger in all abilities-more physically powerful, more mentally capable of persuasion, and most got better looking.
“How old will you be?”
Bram grinned. “Three hundred.”
Crap, he’d be pretty powerful. Not that I was afraid of him-it just went to show that having Bram on my side was exactly where I wanted him. “Why’d you call me the other day?” I asked.
I scooted into the seat next to Sam and watched Bram gingerly hand her the vodka tonic. She nodded her thanks, and Bram pulled up a chair, sitting across from us. “I had some news for you,” he said with a shrug. “And what was that?” I asked, knowing information never came free from Bram. “All in good time, Sweet,” Bram gave me a smile that had probably won him his last few bed partners.
The guy was smooth and, okay, hot-I’d give him that. But that was about all I’d give him. “Bram, what in the hell do you want?” I asked, watching him lean his elbows against the table as he grinned at me for a few seconds.
