Skin slightly tanned.Yep.
Neutral expression firmly in place.Right.I am my usual, adorable vampire self.
Tilting my head down on each side towards my shoulders, I stretch out my neck muscles until I hear them click.
That’s what I used to do before rushing into battle.All I need are some magic ‘shrooms and I will be in full berserker mode.
Let’s go.
As soon as I push the door open, a wall of sound surrounds me.That crazy ass peyote song Aila enjoyed listening to is gone.In its place, some genius has decided to play what sounds like upbeat elevator jingles.I can feel the chill melody trying to put me in a good mood and immediately suppress it.
Only Luna is in the bar as far as vampires go.I suppose the others have been told to let the guests settle into their accommodation before sucking them dry.
A large group of women are talking about their plans in high-pitched, excited voices.Three middle-aged men are standing within the group, trying to pretend that they are not totally fucking happy with the ratio of males to females.
Some guests are leaning against the bar, waiting on their drink orders.Others are seated in booths and around tables chatting about the holiday activities they want to do.Calculating the numbers, I notice one woman and the two kids are missing.Makes sense.It’s late.
And one of the booths is empty—except for the man sitting there.
I sit down opposite him, the leather booth seat squeaking as it accepts my weight.
“I’m Hunter.Saw your ATV on the ferry.”
He’s a handsome man, I’ll give him that.If Piers Jordan ever was a silly frat bro, he shows no signs of it now.His blue eyes are crinkled.Two harsh lines run from his nose to the corners of his mouth.His reddish-blond hair is neatly trimmed in a fashionable style.
But in no way is he an average preppy looking guy.
I clock him to be about thirty-two years old and close to six-two in height.He’s got one of those bodies that indicate a personal trainer and chef; slim, athletic, honed.All lean lines and easy access to the beach or pool when the sun’s out.
A twinge of envy twists inside me.
I’m a biker and a vampire.I’ve never sat down to think about what that could offer a woman.
If I’m summing the man up with a shrewd glance, damned if Piers is not doing the same to me.He seems relaxed, self-assured, cosmopolitan.
“I’m Piers.But you already know that.”
He responds when I cock my eyebrow.He’s observant to the point where I imagine him to be paranoid.
“Where’s the other old dude?The one who brought the cases.Ben?”
“He ain’t here to speak for himself, Piers, so why don’t we just go ahead and leave Ben out of this conversation.”
It’s not a question, and Piers doesn’t treat it like one.
“Sure.”Leaning back, Piers points to my jacket and grins.
“You’re a biker.It must be the easiest way to get around here.Do you mind my asking why you chose to go with a Harley and not a two-stroke off-road bike?It must be hell trying to keep your machine clean riding on these roads.”
His friendly conversation throws me off-guard.I should really get out more.The only males I speak to regularly are Landsliders and vampires.
“For the image.”
I’m joking and he knows it, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Cool.I get it.Well, you’re here.It’s clear that you have something on your mind.So, shoot.”
He’s pushing the ball back into my side of the court.
