The wolves were a law unto themselves, anarchists except within their own group. So far the other preternaturals couldn’t bring them to heel. Which made them dangerous. Anthony said Cole had been the alpha for twenty years. For a wolf to remain in power that long, well, nobody crossed him.
The back room was sectioned off by heavy burgundy drapes. The walls were a rich mahogany wood paneling, accented with posters of pin-up girls from the forties. While time had been kind to the walls, the carpet was threadbare and in desperate need of replacement.
Vampires filled the room,
and the alcohol flowed freely. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to get it into their head to get her drunk or shoot her up with something just for kicks. But then she noticed other humans in the room, vampire groupies … or pets. They blurred together now. She let out a small sigh of relief that she wasn’t the only human amusement.
In the middle of the room sat a large table made of dark gleaming wood. A few vampires in biker jackets sat around it already dealing cards. There were chaise lounges against the walls in the shadows away from the one light that shone over the table center. Several vamps lounged about, a few with humans draped over them in a way that veered toward NC-17.
“Take off your coat and stay awhile,” Paul said.
Jane jumped as his voice cut though her mental cataloging.
The other vampires looked up, interest in their eyes. None of them felt much older than Paul. Though that would only be of benefit if she had a useful superpower. All her powers, if they could be called that, were the kind that put her life in constant danger. She could see them; she could feel them; sometimes she got vampiric memories. She didn’t want to speculate what that was about. They couldn’t get inside her mind or thrall her. Vamps hated that.
Reluctantly, she removed the coat. It was one of those Eskimo-style coats, with the fur-fringed hood that a person could easily get lost in. Though not real fur. Under the coat she wore black leather pants, a black leather halter top that was cut high to show her stomach, and black boots. The cherry on the sundae was hot pink hair and a nose ring.
At first glance, this wasn’t a look that matched the be invisible mantra. But you had to know this crowd. Looking around the room, Jane saw the other humans were wearing black too, including black lipstick and eye makeup. A couple of them had light face make-up that made them look dead, and they each had a different rainbow color in their hair. One of the girls had blue hair, another green, and one had short, spiky crimson.
This was exactly what crayons would look like if they were produced by a group of goths.
Jane didn’t wear the white make-up; her skin was naturally pale. Living with vampires in the dark and on Vampire Central Time since she was sixteen pretty much guaranteed she’d look like one of them.
One of the vamps looked at her appreciatively with a raised eyebrow. It was ridiculous, but many of them preferred naturally pale women instead of the groupies that wore makeup. They claimed the make-up altered the flavor of the blood, but Jane thought it had more to do with feeding their egos, the thought that some human would willingly give up the sun just to be in their precious presence.
Then again, maybe he was looking at her neck.
She could still feel where Paul’s fangs had pierced her throat earlier in the evening. He’d sealed the wound so she wouldn’t bleed to death but hadn’t healed it fully, preferring to see her wearing his mark. He wouldn’t give her a true mark, a claim. He just wanted to piss on his territory a bit.
Paul finally took an empty seat at the table and patted his knee. Jane sat on his lap as he picked up his cards and placed his bet. “Front me some chips, Rayne?”
The vampire sitting across from them snorted. “Where’s your money? Thought you had an endless supply?”
Paul slammed his fist on the table. “Anthony’s gotten too big for his britches now that he’s king. He’s cut me off. Says he won’t pay any more of my debts and that he better not hear I’ve been stealing off humans. He’s not cleaning that mess either.” Paul said it in a snotty sing-song voice.
For about the millionth time, Jane wished she could get into his sleeping chamber to stake him at noon when his sleep would be deepest.
Anthony’s fledge or not, Jane couldn’t see how he would mind her getting rid of the wanker. All Paul did now was cause trouble, threaten her, and make the new administration look bad.
“So, why don’t you earn some money?” It was the eyebrow lifter. The one who’d given her that look. And now she could almost see the cogs turning in his creepy little brain.
Paul let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not getting a job. I’m a vampire for Christ’s sake.”
The other vampire at the table hissed on hearing the C-word. Maybe a superstitious one.
The eyebrow-raiser pressed on. “I was thinking you could put your girl there to work. I know I’d give you a few chips for a taste … or a ride.”
Jane worked hard to keep her face blank. She’d survived it before; she could survive it again. There had been the brief reprieve with Gregory, and while Paul had been a right bastard, he hadn’t shared her with anyone. He hadn’t gone out of his way to protect her, but he hadn’t passed her around either.
Yet.
Paul ran his hand over her arm. If she were any other human, she’d be feeling calm at his touch, maybe even horny. The idea would be sounding good to her right now. She wished she were a regular human so she could hide in the oblivion like they did.
“You know what she is, right? You can feel it?”
The other vampire nodded, “Kindred, but … not. She’s human, but she feels like vampire.”
Paul snorted. “She’s an insult, is what she is.”