Ignoring it, he didn’t stop until he was right before her.
She twisted on the bar stool to face him. Much like every other woman in the club, she wore a short, tight dress. Her legswere long, slender, shapely. Amazing fucking legs. Skin was pale, but silky smooth like ivory. Thick, gleaming blond hair cascaded down around her shoulders in waves. Mesmerizing jade eyes. Her features were refined, elegant. She was beautiful, but no more beautiful than many women he’d met. And yet she was. She was definitely the most beautiful bloody woman he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t explain why.
And then she tilted her head in the light, and those jade eyes momentarily flashed silver, the color of mercury.
Elijah raised an eyebrow as he let his senses completely open.
This was no ordinary woman.
She was a vampire.
Did she sense his magic, his power? He knew he was a draw to supernatural beasties that went bump in the night. Apparently, more so than other warlocks. Something about his blood, perhaps. Maybe he smelled extra tasty.
Turning to the man who sat at the bar beside the vampire, Elijah asked politely, “May I have this seat?”
The man frowned at him, about to argue, and Elijah stared deeply into his eyes and sent out a mental suggestion toward him. “You want me to have this seat, don’t you, mate?”
He nodded and slipped off the stool, disappearing into the dark of the club. Elijah took his place and turned to the vampire. They studied each other again, and he realized his pulse was still racing too fast. She excited him, and she hadn’t even opened her mouth.
“I’m Elijah.”
“I know who you are,” she replied in an American accent. “I was at Arena tonight.”
He was disappointed. Weirdly, he didn’t want her to be a fan. “Ah, I see.”
“Do you?” She smirked.
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I’m a journalist for a paper in Toronto.” Not American, then. Canadian. “Not a music journalist, but my colleague who’s been following your European tour got really sick. With only a few dates left, they asked me to fly out to cover. I don’t know why. I don’t know a lot about your music. Sorry.”
Relieved, Elijah grinned. “Don’t apologize. I prefer it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Believe it or not, yes.” He frowned, realizing something. He leaned toward her. “Does being a vampire make your job difficult?”
Amusement sparked in her eyes, but it couldn’t hide her sadness. Or was he just sensing sadness from her? And something else underlying. Something black, like rage.
Elijah pulled away from her.
How could he sense that?
Fuck, was he actually drunk for once?
Shaking his head at his own nonsense, he focused as she replied, “You know what I am. Good. Whatever you are drew me to this bar tonight.”
Whateverhewas? Didn’t she know? Perhaps she was a newbie vamp. In human years, she didn’t look much older than twenty, twenty-one. “I’m a warlock, love. Haven’t you met one before?”
She tilted her head again, eyes flashing silver in the light once more. Her expression was unreadable, but Elijah had the feeling she was trying to read him. “A warlock? I have met witches and warlocks. You … you must be more powerful than they were.”
Dangerous ground.
He shrugged. “You know my name.” He changed the subject. “But I don’t know yours.”
“Echo.”
“Pardon?”
