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Still, it was hard to feel bitter about something that I hadn’t even known I was missing. I’d always felt wanted and loved by my parents, and it hadn’t been until they had legally adopted me that I’d found out that they weren’t really my parents. They hadn’t ever mentioned fostering me, so I hadn’t known the difference.
The irony to my placement was in how my father was a fire chief, having been a fire fighter back when I’d been dropped off at his firehouse. He’d been one of the two fire fighters that had found me crying, and according to him, he’d fallen instantly in love with me, calling Mom to tell her that they were going to have a baby. Mom had been diagnosed with ovarian cysts at a very young age, so she hadn’t been able to have children, though it’d been something that they’d both wanted.
Now, while my father was a fire chief, my mother was a local news producer, and she was good at what she did. She was also adamant about producingrealnews and not skewed opinion pieces; she wasn’t big on those kinds of media outlets. Mom produced actual news, and she had a few award-winning trophies that proved just how good she was at her job.
I’d also been lucky enough to be raised by parents that had encouraged me to stretch my wings. While they’d been protective, they hadn’t beenover-protective, and they had encouraged whatever crazy ideas that I’d ever come up with, short of anything that had put me in actual danger. My parents had nurtured both my intellectual and creative sides, and I liked to believe that I was a good combination of both. I was smart while I still believed in fanciful possibilities.
As for friends, I had many acquaintances, but only one real friend. It wasn’t that I was snobby or standoffish, so much as I was just careful about rushing relationships. The world was not a good place, and I was always very aware that danger could lurk around any corner that I came around. If I invited someone into my life, it wasn’t justmylife that I was inviting them into. I’d be inviting them into my parents’ lives, my friends’ lives, even my coworkers’ lives. Plus, it also wasn’t easy to get rid of someone once you invited them into your life.
So, while I had lots of people that I could go out and have drinks with, Zaire Sullivan was my best friend, and the only person that I trusted with my life, apart from my parents. Zaire was a little bit of everything, and I absolutely adored the man.
I also wasn’t biased in saying that Zaire Sullivan was a very hot piece of man meat. He was six-foot-one with dark blonde hair and incredible green eyes. Even though he was an advertising executive and sat at a desk most of the day, he worked out regularly, and at twenty-seven-years-old, the guy had the body of a honed athlete. Supposedly, a man’s early twenties were when he was in his prime, but Zaire debunked that myth easily. He also wasn’t one to bullshit you. Zaire was honest and straightforward, and no one ever had to wonder about where they stood with the guy.
Now, while I had the best friend department sewn up, my love life wasn’t exactly anything to write home about. Though I’d had my fair share of boyfriends over the years, none of them had earned the title of ‘The One’. Most of my relationships had been casual and fun, and that had been fine when I’d been younger, but I was looking for something more substantial now. While I was still pushing marriage off for a few more years, it’d be nice to have someone dependable to go home to every night.
As for Zaire, when we’d met four years ago, it’d been an instant best-friends-vibe for us. Even though the man was a good-looking bastard, there’d been no butterflies to speak of, sexual or otherwise. We’d met at a horror movie convention, and it’d been like hitting the lottery when I’d met him. We’d been eyeing the same Nightmare on Elm Street poster collection, and when the seller had tried to up the price to an incredibly ridiculous amount because of our interest, Zaire had told him to go fuck himself, then he had invited me to have a drink with him.
Four years later, it was still a best-friend love.
Unfortunately, that was one of the reasons that Zaire was still single. Even though there was nothing remotely sexual or romantic about our friendship, a lot of women got sketched out when they found out that I was Zaire’s best friend. All of a sudden, I was this imagined threat to them, and there’d been a few times that Zaire had been given an ultimatum where our friendship had been concerned. Luckily for me, pussy didn’t turn Zaire stupid, and the guy had always stuck by me when his girlfriends had lost their insecure shit.
Now, that wasn’t to say that I didn’t understand. After all, Zaire really was gorgeous. He was that kind of Calvin-Klein-ad gorgeous. He was hot enough to have a million social media followers if he were that type of guy. Plus, we’d gone to the beach plenty of times during our friendship, and no pair of board shorts were loose enough to hide what the dude was packing. Sometimes, I thought it was such a shame that I wasn’t attracted to him.
Missing Zaire was going to be the only downside to my two-week vacation. His firm had just landed a huge client, and he’d been handed the account. It’d been exciting as hell, but the news had also had me going on my vacation alone. There was no way that Zaire would have been able to ask for the time off, and I wouldn’t have let him. I was Zaire’s biggest life cheerleader, and he was mine. Granted, his brother and parents might argue thattheywere his biggest cheerleaders, but they were wrong; it was me.
My vacation was in celebration of my twenty-fifth birthday, which was today. Zaire and I were going to hit up the hottest club in town, get drunk off our asses, sober up by hitting up the greasiest diner in the city, then pass out at his place because Zaire was not one for the am hours during the weekend. The man liked to sleep in, no matter if he’d been partying the night before or not.
As for my vacation, it started Sunday morning, and once I flew out of Oakland International, I would be headed towards Reno, Nevada, and not to gamble. I had rented out a small cabin in the woods, and the plan was to unwind for two weeks straight. I had plenty of new books downloaded to my tablet, and the cabin had a real-life fireplace. While it was scheduled to snow, there was no indication of any severe storms heading that way. I would be able to enjoy the snow without it threatening to end my life or have me stranded for days in the middle of nowhere.
Now, because my parents were good parents, they had all my vacation information, and so did Zaire. Even my boss had my itinerary, though that’d been given to him along with my vacation date confirmation. It’d also been proof of when I’d be leaving and when I’d be expected back.
Eyeing myself in the mirror, this was about as good as it got. Zaire swore that I was hot chick material, but Zaire was also ridiculous at times. I was five-foot-three with enough curves to encourage some criticism. Though I wasn’t big on what other people thought, no one liked to be called fat.
I also had dark brown hair and blue eyes that popped because of my dark lashes. At twenty-five-years-old, I was still in my prime, though my thick thighs suggested otherwise. Nevertheless, I knew that I wasn’t fat, and I was pretty satisfied with the way that I looked, but hot chick material? Not quite.
Tonight, I had decided to wear my hair down, letting it fall to the middle of my back, and I’d gone easy with the makeup. Nothing hurt my complexion like passing out with makeup on after a drunken night, so I tried to keep it to a minimum.
As for my attire, even though it was cold out, inside the club would be warm. So, throwing on every woman’s favorite little black dress, I had paired it with some matching four-inch heels, my winter overcoat keeping me warm until we got to the club.
Another good thing about having Zaire Sullivan as a best friend?
He didn’t judge me if I wanted to get lucky on my birthday.
Chapter 3
Kalon~
The place was packed, but that wasn’t anything new. I owned three clubs and one restaurant throughout this fine city, and they were always packed. The benefit to having experienced three-hundred years of life was noting all the failures throughout history and learning from them.
Though we were a coven, we had our own interests and our own money. Brander’s money came from the stock market and some very lucky investments over the years. The man had millions, and no matter how much money he threw around, he kept making more. He was also in charge of all of our financial portfolios, so we all had a few million in the bank as well.
As for the rest of the family, Jaris was in real estate, Marcel worked in pharmaceuticals, Leander was deep into technological advancements, Elissa was a stockbroker, and Faine ran a fashion empire. Like me, they were very successful because they also knew what not to do when it came to business. Most of them also worked behind the scenes like I did. The reason that only seven of us covered Washington, Oregon, California, Idaho, Nevada, Utah, and Arizona was because we had to move around a lot. Since we didn’t age, once the neighbors began to notice our extraordinary youthful appearances, it was usually time to leave. Alaska and Hawaii were also ours, but none of us liked Hawaii. However, Alaska felt like a treat whenever they were experiencing their short days of sunlight.
Faine was the only one of us that had her face in the spotlight, but beauty and fashion allowed for her to change her appearance whenever she needed to. It was nothing for Faine to materialize as a completely different person in looks and demeanor. She was like an ever-evolving butterfly. She also belonged to Marcel when she wanted to. Though they didn’t live in the same area, whenever they met up, you couldn’t tear them apart for days. Elissa and Jaris were also an item with the same arrangement.
As for Leander and Brander, they were happily single, no desire to commit to anyone. I suspected it was because Brander was too busy keeping the peace all over the western region, but I wasn’t sure about Leander. Now, while I wouldn’t say that there was something off about Leander, he’d been able to keep his blue eyes, something that’d been unheard of before him.
Staring down at the club from my office on the second floor, I saw the packed bodies, and I could feel that familiar thrum in my veins. Another myth debunked? We didn’t have superpowers. We couldn’t read people’s minds, see the future, nor did we transform into bats when we felt threatened. However, our senses were heightened to the point of absolute accuracy. Our vision, our hearing, and our sense of smell, taste, and touch were incredibly acute. For instance, even though I was upstairs in my office, looking through a bulletproof two-way mirrored window, I could still hear random conversations below, the scent of fifty different colognes and perfumes, and see what brand of liquor my bartenders were pouring for our guests.
