Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

Bloodlust.

That was kind of a big clue there.

She wasn’t all that surprised. Her brother, due to his addiction, spent all of his time trying to convince a Nightwalker to tap his vein to give him his fix. He was probably a regular here.

Shea frowned, asking herself for the hundredth time how she let herself get into messes like this.

As if he could guess what she was thinking about, Hudson nudged her on the shoulder. When she looked over at him without bothering to hide her growing annoyance, he gestured for her to stay put.

Wait— what? No. Not again. It was bad enough he brought her here. Now he was abandoning her?

For the second time?

“Where are you going now?”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, cupping his hands around his mouth so that she could hear him over the thumping beat. “Just stay here. I’m gonna see if he’s ready for us yet.”

She stared up at Hudson, gaping in disbelief. “You’re leaving me by myself again? You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’m a walking smorgasbord here, Hud.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. Promise. Everything on the dance floor is consensual. No one will even try to take a sip unless you make it clear you’re down with it.”

She wasn’t worried about that. It was the backroom door he kept throwing fevered, worried glances over at that had her nerves ratcheting up as the night grew later.

Earlier, when her brother led her into the club, he had pushed through the crowd, guiding Shea toward the back of the establishment. He parked her right in front of a blood-red door that was almost impossible to pick out from the walls painted the same color. If it wasn’t for the pair of twin guards flanking the door, she probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

They were twins, too. Both with the pale skin of a vampire, fangs that extended past their bottom lip, and the same flat face. They were identical, from their slicked-back dark hair to the dead look in their pale eyes; unlike the other clubgoers, they weren’t wearing shades.

It didn’t help her nerves that her brother seemed to know them.

Hudson whispered something to one. The guard on the right said something else to his twin before pulling open the door and walking inside a room that was so dark, she couldn’t make out anything inside of it. Hudson stayed next to the other guard, both of them waiting. The door opened, the guard returned, and he nodded at Hudson.

She didn’t have any idea what that meant. Hudson seemed excited, though, and he told her that they just had to wait a little longer to meet his “friend”.

Friend.

Right.

Try dealer.

At least, after she nagged him on the drive out of Grayson, Hudson had admitted that it was one of the vamps he fed his blood to who was interested in a healing.

She wasn’t so sure about that. Unfortunately, as she knew firsthand, her brother had a tendency to lie—and, if not lie, then to leave out pretty pertinent details.

Because now it was about an hour later, they were still waiting, and she didn’t have high hopes that Hudson bothering those guards again was going to hurry this along. His friend needed a healing? It couldn’t have been that bad if he was too busy to see them.

Frustrated and tired, she was just about to walk out without Hudson when she felt a sudden buzz prickling against her bare skin.

What the—

She didn’t understand why, didn’t know what was causing it, and she turned away from her antsy brother to look out into the crowd.

And that’s when she saw him.

Colton.

That was Colton over there.

Her Colton.