Nova
A vampire had tackled me because I’d almost torched him. That incident was a sour cherry on a melted sundae.
I replayed it in my head at least a dozen times before I drove over to Gianna’s. She’d given me the key code to access her townhouse. After a long, long day, I was ready to relax, and plopped onto the sofa the second after I entered.
Still, I was too rattled to rest. The way that Diego had stared down at me with that dark hunger in his eyes woke up parts of me that had long been dormant. Although I’d been out of practice for some time, the stiffness against my thigh wasn’t something I’d misidentify.
And a part of me liked it.
What a great start to my return to Salem—I almost murdered my tenant and then got turned on when he’d knocked me to the ground.
Maybe some relaxing music would help soothe me. I found a mellow mood playlist on my phone and then curled up with a book and some jasmine tea on her blue velvet sofa. I read a few chapters of a New England mystery while I sipped my tea. Gianna was working at her club, the Danger Zone, and told me to stop by for a drink later.
After eight, I changed into a pair of black jeans and a long-sleeved burgundy top and drove down Route 1 to her club. It was north of Boston, so I was able to avoid the city. Even better, it had free parking.
The black brick club with the small sign readingDanger Zoneseemed low key, but once I stepped inside, that changed. The club had Gianna’s signature all over it. Gianna loved vintage clothing, music, and styles, and this club reflected a retro rock feel. With the dark walls, skull and crossbones, and dungeon theme, it had the ambiance of an 80s Motley Crue video. The Scorpions’ “Rock You Like a Hurricane” blared throughout the space.
That pretty much seemed to be the effect that Gianna had on the male clientele, many of whom were gaping at her. She stood near the beer taps, talking to a bartender with electric blue hair. Gianna’s dark hair had bright red streaks in it that matched the blood red of her lipstick. She stood statuesque in spiky boots, and her slinky black dress clung to her impressive curves. Dressed hot enough to lure sailors to leap off their ship headfirst into the sea. She’d have guys falling all over even if she didn’t have siren blood.
Once she ended the conversation, she turned away and spotted me.
“Nova!” She walked over with her arms outstretched and embraced me. With her heels adding to her height, I stood like a doll next to her. Heels were not my friend. Any time I attempted to wear them, that decision was followed by more regret than drinking a scorpion bowl on an empty stomach. Since I favored the petite section of the women’s clothing section, it didn’t help my vertical challenge.
“How are you, Gianna?” I asked once we pulled apart.
“Splendid,” she gestured around the club. “This place keeps me busy.” She leaned closer and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “And satiated.”
I laughed. Gianna thrived on sexual energy, which she claimed was part of her siren blood. “It was pretty smart of you to lure your conquests to walk into the door.”
“And pay for the pleasure.” She gestured toward the bar and grinned.
I motioned to the decor. “I like the vintage vibe. It’s totally you.”
“There are a zillion clubs that are just clones of each other, know what I mean? I needed something different. And since 80s and 90s nights are so popular, I figured why not make it part of the theme?” She turned both hands up.
“True.” I glanced around. The club had plenty of patrons and it was still early. Quiet Riot’s “Cum on Feel the Noise” played next. I guessed that later on, this place might be packed and the cash registers full.
Gianna placed her hand on mine. “Sorry about your aunt.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, feeling odd to hear condolences about a woman I barely knew. “This whole situation is strange. I still don’t get why she’d leave the house and everything in it to me.”
She pulled her hand back and turned it palms up. “She wanted you to have the house for some reason. What did you think about it?”
I exhaled with a sigh that sounded more dramatic than I’d intended. “It’s great. A beautiful old house with plenty of space. It’s dated and has had add-ons over the years, and the layout is charmingly quirky.” I bit my lip and tapped my fingers together. “But, there was something weird about her apartment.”
“What?”
I tried to put my finger on it. “I don’t know how to explain it. It was a strange atmosphere in her apartment that made me uncomfortable.”
Sure, it could have been precipitated by the tension from being tackled by Diego, but I sensed it was more than that, especially when I’d entered my aunt’s bedroom.
“Could be anxiety,” Gianna offered.
“Possibly,” I agreed.
“What do you think you’ll do with the house?” She bent her head and smiled. “Any chance of you moving back here?”
“I don’t think so.” Tapping my fingers on the bar, I added, “I have a life in New York.”
