I glare at him in response and hope that he doesn’tactuallyrecognise me. The last thing I want to do is ruin the fun, flirty reputation of the HVBs just because I’m in a foul mood.
“Nikki-belle! You’re here! Come on, have a drink with us!” The feminine voice is a saviour from the Gods. Clear across the courtyard bar, and its nighttime blooms and jazzy instrumental music, a hand waves me over.
Mia, Stacey and Colby aren’t exactly friends, more beings I’ve run into enough times on enough nights out that we’ve gotten to know each other. Tonight they are an oasis of normality—plus, they have drinks already at the table, so I don’t have to brave the already out-of-control line at the bar.
“How’s it going?” Mia pulls me into a one armed hug while handing me a drink. I throw it back, ignoring the way Colby isalso giving me a hug. Only he’s sitting down, and has decided that clinging onto my bare thigh is the best way to say hello. With my heeled boots, his big head rests on my hip, flattening my skirt. It’s more touchy than I’m comfortable with, but after feeling so on the outs with the group I arrived with, it appeases my ego to feel so wanted, so I let it slide.
“Can’t complain.” Because we’re not those sorts of friends. “Been busy?”
It’s the banal, base level conversation you have with people you see every once in a while, usually when you’re drunk, and I don’t mind it. They gush about the latest videos of Kai and me online, and catch me up on other people we’re all tangentially related to, while Stacey uses their gifts to replenish the wine and blood at the table. The blood doesn’t taste exactly right, but it’s better than waiting to get served and the sneakiness of it gives the same rush that petty theft used to as a kid.
It seems it really is a night for indulging in all my old toxic behaviour.
Which is why when Colby pulls me onto his lap and begins massaging my thighs with firm squeezes that skirt with the edge of decency, I let him. Colby’s been after me for years. Maybe it’s time to throw him a bone. Or let him throw me one.
“Do you know him? He’s been glaring at you for ten solid minutes now, Nikki-belle.” Stacey blows out a billow of smoke from their cigarette and nods in the direction of the doors that lead to the courtyard.
Wriggling around in Colby’s groping grip I peer around the large mass of his body.
White as a sheet, with a bright red flush to his cheeks, the high collar of his black frock coat unbuttoned to reveal the dip at the base of his throat and the long column of his neck, is Willan. Flushed and sweaty from whatever he’s been doing inside, littleflyaway hairs have escaped the braids of his hair, and they frame his angry, angry face.
Having had more than a couple of spiked bloods myself, it takes a couple of long, blinking seconds to realise that his anger is directed atme. It almost crackles from his eyes like lightning. Thankfully, that’s not really one of the skills of our mage clan.Hismage clan.
“Oh, shit.” I whisper, taking in the sight of him. It hits me again that little Willan has become a man. A really fucking hot man. Heat, carried by the blood I’ve consumed rushes through me to my cock. Colby must feel the way it twitches against his forearm, where it lays possessively across my lap. His big hand tightens on my hip, but it’s no use. Against all common sense, I lick my lips, feeling my fangs sharpen against my tongue.
Despite the distance between us, the hunter instincts innate in all vampires lock in on Willan’s reaction. The way his nostrils flare, the flex of his hand by his side. If I try really hard, I could probably lock into the increasing race of his heart.
If I hadn’t had so many spiked bloods that is.
“Who’s—” Stacey asks, banging on the table to get my attention.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s coming this way!” Mia squeals.
Colby’s fingers are going to leave bruises, the way they’re digging in. At least they’ll be gone by sundown.
Time stops and the world goes hazy as Willan makes his way towards me.
The moment crushes in on me, like gravity is quadrupling at a rapid rate. My arm is around Colby's shoulders, and I cling to his bicep like an anchor. He’s really going to get the wrong idea about this but I can’t let go.
Thirteen years, weeks of anxiety and now hours of anticipation and we’ve reached the point of impact. The trains are about to collide and my worlds slam together.
“Nikolo. It’s been a while.”
An ice cold breeze ripples between us, ruffling the hem of his coat and chilling all my exposed flesh almost as much as his glare does.
“Sure has.” My words are sharper than I mean them to be, and internally I cringe at how I sound. Stacey and Mia’s snickers only make it worse. They are no doubt loving this, and by the time I wake up tomorrow, everyone will know about my beautiful scorned lover or whatever other bullshit they make up.
“You look well.” He looks me over, almost in spite of himself. His gaze lingers not only on my many tattoos, but where Colby's hands dig into my hip and the meat of my thigh. There’s that nostril flare again. And the angry little dip in his brow.
“Thanks. You too.”
It is unbelievably awkward, the rising tension only amplifying the awkwardness like a hothouse. Willan shifts on his feet, his lips pursing for a moment, like he’s biting his lip to hold back from saying something before he sighs resignedly.
I wish he’d just say it and burst whatever perverse bubble we’re currently in. The Gods know I seem incapable of it.
“Can we—can we talk?” His eyes cut to the beings gawking at us. “Alone?”
“No.” I shake my head to emphasise the point. It turns out, I’ve been anxious because I’m a fucking coward.
