Nightwolf

I grin at him. “Because they always leave the two of us to do everything.”

“You got that right,” he mumbles, running his hand over his jaw as he looks up at my decorations. “You know, you’ve been running this joint for a long time now, and this is the first time we’ve had a Halloween party. I’m actually surprised you’ve never suggested it before, being human and all.”

“Maybe because every day is fucking Halloween when you live in a house full of vampires?” I point out.

He smirks, his dimples popping, and grabs the rest of the pumpkin garland from my hands. “Fair enough. At least let me take care of the tall stuff.”

He goes to the wall on the other side of the door and reaches up with ease to pin another pumpkin up. I take a moment to admire his ass (as I always do, it’s a feat of nature!), even though he must know I check him out all the livelong day. I don’t even think I’m bashful about it anymore. Then again, bashful has never been my style.

“I have to say,” he says, back still to me. “I might actually be looking forward to this. Already have my costume picked out.”

I look at him in surprise. “What is it?”

“You’re looking at it.” He turns to face me, a wry smile on his lips as he gestures to himself. “I’m a vampire.”

I raise my brow. “Oh, that’s cheating. At least try to look like one.”

Because, the thing is, Wolf doesn’t look like a vampire at all. Before I first came to Dark Eyes, I thought vampires were a myth. Even though I’d always been obsessed with the supernatural growing up, and I was eager to believe in ghosts and witches and shapeshifters, vampires seemed farfetched. And when I thought of vampires, I thought of them tall, skinny, pale, black greasy hair, red eyes. Maybe a cape. I definitely didn’t think of the sparkly Twilight variety either. No, I went old school Bela Lugosi in my imagination. Super goth.

So, when I discovered that vampires do actually exist, I was shocked to find out that they weren’t at all what I imagined them to be. Okay, so Absolon “Solon” Stavig, the head honcho of the house, does look a little goth with his long black hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes, plus his flair for wearing black, dramatic clothing.

But Wolf? Wolf is built like a Mack Truck. He’s super tall, with shoulders like mountains and arms the size of my leg (and I have thunder thighs). His skin may be pale (they don’t get sun damage), but his hair is this shiny, thick, light brown that gleams bronze under certain lights, and his eyes are the color of autumn leaves, faded green kissed by gold.

He also has the face of an avenging angel. The highest of cheekbones, a strong square jaw, perfect white teeth that set off deep dimples when he smiles. He looks like a Nordic God turned MMA fighter, pure muscle and power, a warrior through and through, and not at all like what I had imagined a vampire to be. I don’t even think I’ve seen his canines turn to fangs (granted, I’ve never actually been around Wolf when he’s feeding, which is odd considering feeding vampires is part of my job description here at the Dark Eyes nightclub).

“And how would you expect me to look? Like Dracula?” he asks, eyes narrowing slightly. It’s enough to create a chilled breeze in the air. Vampires have some pretty unique traits and this is one of Wolf’s. When he’s annoyed, I can physically feel it.

I shrug. “You know I mean the fictional depiction of Dracula.”

You see, Dracula exists in real life. Apparently he’s nothing like the one that Bram Stoker wrote about (even though he was the inspiration), but even so, Wolf hates his guts. Something about how Dracula stole his girlfriend two hundred years ago or something. Yeah, Dracula is supposed to be a total asshole.

“That would just feed into his ego,” Wolf mumbles, turning back around. “Every Halloween, the bastard’s head must inflate to the size of Jupiter.”

“I take it he’s not coming to the party tonight?” I ask, watching as he bristles. Another icy breeze directed my way.

“I’d probably kill him if he did,” he says, so matter-of-factly that I don’t doubt him for a moment. Even though Wolf is an easy-going, quick-to-quip, relatively open guy, there’s a side of him I don’t know too much about.

The side of him that kills people.

Now, I know the Wolf of this century doesn’t kill people if he doesn’t have to—it’s why Solon operates Dark Eyes, so that vampires in the city can have a safe place to feed without sacrificing human life—but I have no idea about the Wolf of the past. The Wolf before Dark Eyes came into existence.