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I frowned. “How many have you been to?”
“Quite a few, but … not in the last twenty years. Who knows what has changed since then?”
I nodded.
Prince Killian of DuMoir Castle had been locked inside a magical box for twenty years. He had been lost in a monster realm, where time went by a lot slower, and Lavinia had been the one to rescue him. It had practically been love at first sight—though neither of them admitted it.
We were a little over two hours north of New York City, but the trip in Killian’s new Porsche Taycan had been smooth and fast—so far, I hadn’t met one vampire who respected speed limits.
The club was located in Manhattan, off Broadway Avenue. A conspicuous six-floor parking garage building at street level. We parked there and then a set of secret elevators in the back of the garage took us below ground to the club’s main entrance.
The elevators opened to a large room with a beige stone floor and a wooden sliding door on the other side, where three huge men stood. If I had to guess, they were either demons or some other kind of supernatural.
As we approached them, Killian flashed them a golden coin—stamped with the same W that was on the sliding door.
One of the demons took the coin and pulled the door open.
Beyond it was pure darkness. And no sound.
“Are we in the right place?” I whispered.
Killian nodded. Holding hands, Killian and Lavinia stepped into the darkness. Curious, I went in after them and stepped onto a landing. Beyond the landing, the nightclub stretched on forever. Down a set of stairs, the space opened and a huge crowd danced to music that boomed and shook the floor and walls. To the right, a long bar disappeared in the vastness of the place. To the left, round tables and stools dotted the edges of the dance floor, and beyond that, low couches lined the wall.
In the back, a set of wide stone stairs led up to balconies overlooking the dance floor. The VIP areas. I wondered how you got one of those. The most powerful of the supernatural, the privileged? All Killian had to do was use his title and he would be given the best of the VIP areas.
Killian and Lavinia led us to the left toward a familiar face at one of the round tables—Twyla. The shadow fae had spent twenty years in the monster realm and Lavinia had rescued her when we escaped the Nightmist witches. It had been a mess, but we had all made it through.
And now Twyla was here with her mate, Daleigh, Lord of the Frost Court in the fae realm. We greeted them like old friends, but Lavinia and Twyla left us to dance. Even though the guys’ attention was on their mates, they made for good company—quiet, serious, not too curious. We ordered drinks and loaded french fries and made small talk.
I appreciated them inviting me, but I felt like a fifth wheel. Twyla said she had tried reaching Ariella, a fallen angel with a long history with DuMoir Castle and their friends, but couldn’t. Ariella was on a mission to recover her wings from the demons who took them, and she was often unreachable because of that.
At some point, the guys went to the dance floor with their mates and I was left alone at our table. I was glad for the break. I didn’t need them babysitting me all the time.
I glanced to the side, trying to guess everyone’s species. Wolf shifters weren’t the best at that unless we could smell them, and even then, it could be tricky. But here, with the heavy scent of alcohol, perfume, and sweat, it was impossible.
A group of girls caught my attention to my right. One of them, a brunette, smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. It was automatic at this point.
The brunette batted her lashes at me, and I let my smile turn wolfish. Her friends poked her and she shook her head at them. I strained my hearing, but with the loud music and incessant chatter, I only picked up a few words.
“… go …”
“… he’s cute …”
“… have fun …”
After taking a long sip of her drink, the brunette rounded her table and walked toward me.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked, touching the empty stool beside the one I occupied.
I gestured to the stool. “Please do.” She was prettier up close with small, hazel eyes and pink-painted lips. I leaned closer to her. “Tell me, you and your friends are vampires, right? That’s the only explanation for how pretty you are.” Her cheeks turned red. “Oh, I see you aren’t.”
She stared at me for a moment, being coy or pretending.
Just like I was.
Like I always had most of my life.
This girl was pretty and it was fun to flirt, but despite all the rumors going around DuMoir Castle, I hadn’t taken any woman to my bed. Or men for that matter.
