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A twenty-one-year-old whose thought of as past the marrying prime in many cultures. I calculate the age difference. A large gap, that many, especially in her family or culture, would frown upon, even forbid, but eternity is a very long time and could make that age disappear from the equation if she were a vampire. My jaw locks with determination as I hold her against me, transporting her through the night, into a dark place in the world she’s never been.
But I will protect her. This could work. Destiny would not have brought her to me if it were not meant to be. I already know this is more than just bedding her like the rest of the females at the club. They come for play, and that’s what they get. They leave sated and satisfied and do the same in return. But this is not that. This is different in every possible way.
Catina’s face nuzzles against my chest, causing it to constrict under the warmth of her breath as her body molds against mine. Two days ago, I would have bet my fortune against the chance of finding my soul mate, but I can’t say the same today.
The minute we reach the bar, she wiggles from my arms. Catina may have powers, but humans don’t believe in destiny the same as we do; at least, not in most cases. She may feel the magnetic draw between the two of us, even want to act on it, but when it comes right down to it, her heart is with her people and not with mine. No matter what her family has done. I push a wayward hair that’s found its way across her face so that I can see those beautiful eyes and what she’s feeling.
Her heart may be racing with fear of the unknown, but anyone who can’t hear the pounding of the blood racing through the ventricles of her heart, or see and hear exactly what she’s thinking would never know the beautiful young psychic is in such a world of turmoil.
My jaw tightens with guilt for bringing her into the middle of it, but there’s no going back now. She knows more than she should, and there’s far too much at stake to allow emotions to play in a role that could set the vampires back centuries. We must stay the course no matter what.
I settle my hand at her lower back, guiding her through the club with the large scrolly red D, and cursive letters spelling out our Overmaster’s last name. One day his vision to have a Club Descallia in every region of the country will come true. When he puts his mind to something, absolutely nothing stands in his way. Just like when he became Overmaster of the purebloods, moving us systematically and strategically over time into a position of respect and reverence among both the humans and other under dwellers.
But with that power we’ve all become a target for any and all the factions of the globe who want it for their own and are willing to do whatever it takes to get it.
The minute we walk through the high-end club, the pulsing music greets us. I scan the bar to the left which takes up the entire wall, filled with a long row of upscale leather and chrome bar stools that face a solid black Italian marble bar. The mirrored wall behind it reflects all the bottles of the finest selection of top shelf liquor throughout the land. Even finer selections that come with an indecent price tag are kept in the VIP rooms and cost a membership price that most cannot afford.
A quick scan of the bar comes up empty, but the smell of shifter is something that lingers. The putrid scent fills my nostrils as I breathe in the air of the club. I steer Catina through the tables scattered throughout and toward the large oval one at the front where Overmaster Descallia and the rest of our group is already being seated by a tall and pretty blonde.
The woman in a short black skirt, tall black heels, and no shirt to speak of removes the reserved sign from the table as we join the group. She looks at me and licks her lower lip, a vampiress with needs that until recently I might have been interested in taking care of myself. “Descallia Red, two please.” I hold a chair for Catina between Lucianna and the one I plan to sit in next to her.
Willow, Raven, and Madria talk quietly amongst themselves as they take the seats to the left of Lucianna while Campania, Romano, Sardinia and Descallia file in around the large table, reserved for only Overmaster Descallia and those he wishes to bring. Lucianna and the ladies pull Catina into conversation right away, making her feel comfortable among the group while everyone gets settled.
Overmaster Descallia looks over the table at me as my cell buzzes. I glance down at the message and turn to the guys. “Silver, Terrence, and Clay are still outside. They picked up their scent, but I had told them not to follow too deep in case it’s another one of their traps. Should we have him and the others go after them or stay put?”
Descallia looks as conflicted as I feel. “No, let’s wait. I could smell the mangy shifters as I walked in the door,” he growls, just before our drinks arrive. The table quiets while they are being passed around, but Descallia leans in close the moment the waitress is gone. “Lucianna wants to work with Silver in hopes of learning something from their scent. They’re baiting us; they wouldn’t be seen or tracked if they didn’t want to be. We have to use the utmost caution now. The rogues are smarter than we’d like to believe. They know I won’t be happy until I see stakes sticking out of their dark-hearted souls. But we have to wait, avoid the traps, and be smart about when we attack.”
Campania and Romano look around to make sure no one from the adjacent tables are listening, with a quick glance at their ladies who are still huddled together deep in conversation before turning to me. Romano spins his drink as he brings me up to speed. “Willow and Raven spoke with Devora. She told them that the stones coming together is exactly what the rogues want. It’s written in the witches history, in their bible of sorts, that when the three stones come together, a play for power will surmount anything ever seen.
Romano gives a chin gesture toward Catina who’s deep in conversation with Lucianna. “Her visions weren’t wrong. Destiny meant for the stones to come together, and for you to wait to look for the rogues until they did, but how or what the power of the stones hold, Devora would not say.”
I take a drink of the Descallia Red, its wine and blood properties soothing the restlessness as we’re forced to wait yet again. Catina taps my arm. “I’m going to run to the restroom with the rest of the ladies. We’ll be right back.”
“Try to stay out of trouble,” I tell them playfully, as my brothers smirk at their mates. I turn to Campania and Romano. “It will be much easier to keep them out of mischief until Embry arrives. After that, who knows what trouble they’ll get into tonight if we’re going to hang out here while Lucianna and Silver do their thing.”
Descallia is busy multi-tasking on his phone and looks up for a minute. “Lucas and Embry will be here shortly, and Silver, Terrence, and Clay are on their way back to fill us in and work with Lucianna. Let’s hope it doesn’t take long because my fucking patience with these rogues is gone.”
Overmaster Descallia glances down at his phone and then breaks into a big grin. “Gentleman, the contracts for the six new clubs to open across North America are a done deal. A replica of the one in Vegas, with VIP areas upstairs, and with the lower levels all designed from the model there too. The playrooms are becoming increasingly popular with our more elite clientele. A revenue source we don’t want to miss out on and won’t once we expand.”
We all tip our glasses in solidarity with our leader while my eyes track to the door of the restroom, not trusting a fucking soul until this bid with the rogues is over. “You’ve been working on that a long time. I bet having all the attorney and contract meetings over with is a big relief,” I say absently, still only half tuned in while I watch the ladies head out of the restroom.
He nods, still smiling. “All worth it to get all the details exactly the way we want them. This will give us increased independence. We’ll be able to work less and less with the syndicate on certain things now. Roman is a good man, and we’ll continue our relationship with him, but I won’t forget the elders who tried to fuck us over. The hell if I plan to let them have more than we have to in the future. Let them wish they had stayed on the right side of the vampires.”
I turn to raise an eyebrow, because we all know that the syndicate is not going to stand for that without a fight, and our fearless Overmaster is far too smart not to know that.
Campania, Romano, Sardinia, and I exchange a glance, probably all thinking the same things. We’re in the middle of one war, and Descallia’s working on getting us thrown right into the fucking middle of another.
It’s not like we are against the expansion of our clubs but expanding this fast is likely to send a very direct message to people who fight back. Most of us spent more than our fair share of nights in the more exclusive playrooms testing the limits of female playmates. Well, before they found their mates. Unlike me, who just last week was doing that very thing, thinking that it would be a cold day in hell before I ever wanted to settle down.
Only last week … but now the image of Catina draped across one of the many spanking benches, or St. Andrew’s cross while I ravish her with my need comes unbidden to my mind. Peeling off those jeans from that heart-shaped ass and commanding her to step out of them, peeling that sweater off to reveal the lacy little garments I had purchased and saw in the bag before Clara took it upstairs. I shift against the seam of my jeans uncomfortably, deciding to get my mind on something else.
I turn back to watch the ladies walking from the bathroom at the back of the club. A popular song begins playing from the stage. Lucianna and the ladies suddenly shift course, and instead of coming back to the table, they head to the dance floor laughing.
Which can only mean one thing— trouble with a capital T.
Romano laughs as we watch our ladies slide into the crowd and begin to move in a group with the rhythm of the music. Overmaster Descallia’s eyes redden as he watches his mate who turns toward him and gives him a little wiggle and wink from the dance floor.
It takes effort to keep a straight face, Lucianna rumored to have a penchant for getting into trouble with no help at all from Embry. The ladies’ parties at his estate while all the masters meet in Rome each week is no secret; in fact a weekly topic of discussion in the masters’ gym locker rooms.
