Pockmarked Guy and his ugly friend both stopped in their tracks and turned toward me, triumphant looks crawling across their faces.
“Shit. Come on, somebody hear me! I deserve a break already!” I kept beating on the door, despite my hand going numb and the very real likelihood that no one inside that undoubtedly loud bar could hear the sound.
The door flew open just as my two non-friends pounced. I leaped out of the way and basically fell into their clutches, although I had enough sense about me to notice the man standing in the doorway, watching us with a far more bored expression than I would expect from someone who had stumbled upon a scene where it was pretty damn obvious the girl was in distress.
“Mind your own business,” Ugly Guy said. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“A little help here,” I countered.
“Shut your mouth,” Pockmarked Guy said, speaking to me.
“Go on, close the door,” the first guy said. “We’re just having a little fun.”
“She doesn’t look like what you’re doing is particularly fun,” the man standing in the shadowy doorway said. “Actually, she looks rather pissed off.”
His voice was like silk. He had an accent that was absolutely not American. Irish or Scottish, maybe? I had no idea, but I sure as hell wanted him to keep talking. He could be a phone sex operator. I could listen to him for hours.
Why am I going on about something so trivial, in the middle of a pretty damned desperate situation?
“I said, mind your own business,” Pockmarked Guy said, and he attempted to shove the door closed.
The man with the sexy-as-sin accent lifted his arm and flattened his hand against the smooth surface, stopping the door from closing. He didn’t appear to be exerting any effort, although it was admittedly dark and hard to see.
Shit. Don’t tell me this guy was a vampire. Don’t tell me a freaking vampire was about to save me from being assaulted by two of the ugliest men I’ve come across in my life. And as I was raised in a small town in the middle of Illinois, I had to admit, I’ve come across some damn ugly folk.
“You know what? On second thought, maybe I’m better off taking my chances on—” A firm, dry, and slightly cool hand wrapped around my arm and jerked me toward the door. A moment later, I stood inside a raucous, vibrant bar, my back against the closed steel door. I pressed my palms to the smooth surface and tried to gather my wayward wits. Someone beat on the door from the other side, and the man—vampire?—who saved me gently pulled me away, leading me down a hall, past signs indicating “lasses” and “lads” and into the main part of the bar.
“How the hell did you hear me beating on the door with all this racket in here?” I asked.
“I have exceptional senses.” He had to turn toward me and practically yell his response, because I sure as hell didn’t have exceptional hearing. Shit. He was a vampire.
The pub was a narrow piece of real estate, divided by a half wall so that tables and the bar sat on one side, while the other was reserved for darts and pool. There were so many bodies crammed into this place, the darts had undoubtedly been packed away for the day.
“Are you hungry?” that sexy, accented voice murmured next to my ear, causing me to jerk away so I could get a better look at the voice’s owner.
Holy hotness. Was this guy for real? Seriously, I’d never seen something so perfect outside of the Internet, and all those perfect people were famous movie stars or rock gods and probably Photoshopped to hell and back.
But not this guy. He stood before me, as real as my decision to come to Chicago to find my sister. Dark, curling hair started in a stark widow’s peak and then swept away from a face containing chocolate-brown eyes under heavy, black brows and a firm jawline covered with thick stubble. Hell, I couldn’t even drag my gaze lower to check out the chest, the thighs, the goods. I was too transfixed by his beautiful face.
“You can’t be real.” I murmured the words, not actually intending to say them out loud.
He smiled, giving me a glimpse of longer-than-normal canines and reminding me that not only were vampires real, but this guy probably was one. It helped, at least momentarily, to rein in my roaring lust.
“Listen, I appreciate you saving me from those assholes, but I gotta get going.”
“Those assholes are still out there, you know. Very likely hovering at the entrance, waiting for you to do exactly what you intend to do.”
God, that accent. How the hell could nothing more than a voice saying very non-sexy words stir up my juices like this? Although, to be fair, the voice emanated from an incredibly handsome face, and a quick, sweeping glance told me the body was as glorious as the face and voice. No wonder I was so turned on I was probably flushed.
He apparently took my non-response as acceptance of his theory, because he wrapped his hand around my arm and guided me through the crowded pub to where a big, burly guy with a thick, ginger beard sat on a stool, standing guard over a narrow wooden staircase. With the barest of nods, the guy unlatched a metal chain and my rescuer and I headed upstairs.
“What are you doing with me?” My fear of vampires, of becoming a blood courtesan, overcame my annoying attraction to the guy, and I tried to tug my arm out of his steel-like grasp.
“Taking you upstairs, where it’s far more quiet. I am not fond of crowds.”
At the top of the stairs was a second dining area, with
