Turns out, sneaking out of a vampire stronghold is a hell of a lot easier than I thought it would be. At four in the afternoon, Gray is still dead to the world. He doesn’t budge when my alarm goes off, and when I climb out of bed, he doesn’t even twitch at the weight shift. Once I’m dressed, I hurry out of the room and head for the kitchen. In my haste to leave, I scratch out a quick message on scrap paper and leave it behind, just in case.
My car is easy to find in the garage; it’s parked between a Nissan and a Bugatti and sticks out like a sore thumb. I run over to it and climb inside, finding the keys in the visor. The engine revs to life, its familiar sound invoking a sense of comfort. I missed driving my own car.
The garage door opens as I throw it in reverse.Too easy.
A sliver of regret, like an unremovable splinter, remains in my chest after I’m gone. I know I should have told him what I planned to do and where I meant to go, but I don’t want to risk Gray’s life again. If Dax really wants to see me, and I’m right about it involving Jill, then it’ll be easier on my own. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I make it back home. A quick change of clothes, and one fresh pair of underwear later, I’m back in my car and ready to face whatever awaits me at String Theory.
ME:On my way.
DAX:See you soon.
Nerves are on high alert the whole drive over, and they don’t show any signs of stopping. Coming to the club before it’s open usually meant something else, and the last time I was here, it was the night after I found Gray. The lot is empty as I pull in, which is strange for the time. It’s already after five, and there’s no sign of anyone.
The hell?
The club is eerily silent as I make my way inside. No music, no voices, no movement—it’s as if the very air is holding its breath. I pad down the hall to Dax’s office and give it a light knock. It creaks open, and I peek my head inside. Before I can even make out a shape or a face, or utter a quick ‘hello,’ I’m shoved hard from behind and fall forward into the room. It catches me so off balance that I can’t do anything to stop myself from going down and colliding with the floor.
“Ouch! What the fuck?” I cry out, wincing at the throbbing in my knees.
“For being such a messy slut, you don’t spend nearly enough time on your knees, I see.”
My head snaps up at the sound of Dante’s voice. Ever since our first encounter, his presence has haunted the back of my mind. Hearing the same cold, sharp tone he used against me just moments before tearing into my wrist spikes heat along my skin like a rash from a bad reaction. Panic rises in my throat as I glance around the room. He’s at Dax’s desk, peering down at me from his stolen seat.
“Where’s Dax?” I bite out. There’s movement behind me as the office door shuts.
“Alive and well.” Dante smiles. “Though, he might be on the mend this morning with a wicked hangover.”
“Then how did you…?”
“I might have taken his phone.” In the blink of an eye, Dante is crouched before me. He waves a phone in front of my face. “It’s incredible what a few shots of tequila will do to a man. A little liquor and some sleight of hand goes a long way.”
“You didwhat?” I almost can’t believe it. He isn’t just waving Dax’s phone around, he’s full-on gloating about it.
“Don’t look at me like that. Your friend made it very easy.” Dante ignores me and goes on. “All I had to do was set him up with a few drinks, make nice, and listen to his wailing about women. Having met you myself, I can confidently say that he has terrible taste.”
“You’re a prick,” I seethe.
The smile on his face falters as his hand connects with my face. It’s like getting hit with a two-by-four. Pain blooms in my cheek as tears sting my eyes. That really fucking hurt.
“For the way you two talk… maybe you do deserve each other,” he says, anger lacing his tone, “but I hate the idea of anyone playing with my things.”
When Dante stands, I feel myself lifted, too. Someone has their hands under my arms, supporting all of my weight. Still, I don’t turn back to see. Whoever they are, they’re tall and they’re strong. Probably another vampire. Julian, maybe, or one of the others he had with him at the club the first night.
“Gray doesn’t want you,” I say, ignoring the pain in my jaw as I speak.
“That means nothing,” Dante snaps, grabbing my face with one hand as he forces me to look at him. “Gray is more important to our world than you can possibly imagine. I’ve waited too long for him to give him up to some back-alley stripper with boobs bigger than her brain.”
My nostrils flare at his words.
“Yeah, well, he never complained about my brains when his head was buried between my big boobs, you fucking asshat.”
For a minute, I think he’s going to rip my head off my shoulders for taunting him like that, but he has more self control than I thought. Instead, he masks the simmering flames of his anger with a kind, almost sweet smile. He falls back against the desk with ease and crosses his arms over the silk maroon shirt he’s wearing.
“As much fun as it would be to kill you here, I promised someone else that I would let them have you.” Dante licks his lips. “Steven here has beendyingto finish what he started, if you’ll excuse the turn of phrase.”
I swallow a hard lump in my throat, and my skin goes cold. Set on my feet, I’m whipped around to face the person behind me. Even though my gut could have guessed it, I’m still surprised to see him standing there. Alive.
I wasn’t seeing things then, I think to myself.He was really here the same night I ran into Dante.
