Vulture’s Kiss Page 3
“I see.” He retracted his hand. “Perhaps I’ll pick up something for you. It’d be a shame if—”
“Louis?”
He stopped. “Yes?”
Breathe, girl.
Evelyn fanned her face.
What was she thinking? She couldn’t go through with this. One night between them would lead to more fun and she already knew it. This would be another bad relationship in the making, yet he conned her like a sexy devil.
A devil she wanted to take to her bed.
He leaned close to her ear again. “If you want, I can pick out the dress.”
“I… I can do it.” She squeezed her thighs together and stiffened. “I’ll…”
He moved her chain and kissed her neck.
Every thought popped and floated away. Every nerve awakened at his touch. Her head tipped backward the longer he suckled on her skin.
God, she never felt so good.
Her body wanted more. Needed more. Begged her to become wanton and cast aside her professionalism. And yet, she pressed against him, doing everything but turning him down.
His body warmed against hers.
Evelyn let out a small moan.
“Relax, Evie.” His fingers trailed along her earlobe. “God, you’re a beautiful woman. I can see why you’d believe you made a mistake, though. I should’ve left, but I wanted to wait for you.”
She gritted her teeth. “I see.”
Someone honked their horn, backed up, and drove off.
Evelyn gasped. Jemina.
She’d never hear the end of this one.
“I guess your ride drove off.” He stepped away from her. “Do you need a ride home?”
No. Going home with Louis wouldn’t get her anywhere. Well, except naked. Definitely naked. There was chemistry between them—something her other boyfriends lacked.
She had to get through tomorrow night.
Then she’d never deal with this heartthrob again.
“No, thanks.” Each word came out as a whisper. “I was heading somewhere myself.”
“What a shame.” He suckled on her neck, then backed away. “Until tomorrow, then.”
Evelyn hurried down the street, dragging her fingers along where he kissed her. Her neck tingled. Definitely a hickey there. She’d wear a silk scarf with her dress tomorrow.
Hopefully, no one noticed.
Heat crept into her cheeks the longer she walked. What a way to knock a girl off her feet. Maybe she could enjoy herself for one night. Then she could get rid of him. If she kept him around any longer, they’d run into complications.
Warmth radiated through her body at her naughty thought.
Goddammit.
She’d make him pay for being a cocktease.
3
Working on Saturdays rarely bothered Louis, but everything interfered with his dinner preparations. If someone brought him another round of bad news, he'd eat them before the meeting and ruin his growing appetite.
He’d waited all week to entertain the shareholders.
Everything had to be perfect. Tonight, he’d break several women’s hearts while playing the role of dutiful host. Then again, he’d enjoy breaking their delicate hearts. He always did.
Those little girls didn’t affect him like Evelyn.
She might have been younger than he liked, but her fiery temper made up for her shortcomings. That woman didn’t apologize for being herself while staying standoffish. Her pouty lips and curvy figure were worth more than any of these anorexic nobles. Her touch warmed his icy body—something none of his other partners did.
He licked one of his fangs, longing to kiss her neck again.
He’d have to be careful tonight.
Louis grabbed a paper off his desk, sighing at the menu his butler prepared for him. Why did humans love to socialize around expensive food and three to four course meals? There were better things to do. Eating seemed so boring compared to what his tribe did at family gatherings.
Then again, they took part in shamanistic rituals.
He skimmed the paper, then dropped it, grabbing the phone on his desk. He pressed a button and waited for someone to answer.
His butler answered on the fourth ring.
“Morgan, I’m on my way to pick up the corsage. Please make sure everyone finishes everything before I return. And for goodness sake, see if you can give them a fancy chicken dinner instead of filet mignon. I’d prefer venison, but—”
He paused, fiddling with a pen.
Morgan just had to remind him about the women’s sensitivities.
No, he didn’t mind having vegan dishes available for Lady Annabelle. Yes, he understood that the shareholders would assume he couldn’t afford to host anything later on. Goddammit, he forgot to order the most expensive wine on the market.
Louis kept quiet until the butler finished.
Hosting aristocrats was so exhausting.
“Fine, fine. Just finish the preparations, please.” He sighed. “If Hector calls, saddle him with some of the responsibilities. I’m heading out for a while.”
He yawned, then hung up the phone.
Driving into the city would clear his head. He could finish up his last-minute errands. He’d make a pit stop by the office and finish his paperwork for Hector. Then he had to pick up Evelyn’s corsage.
His last stop would be Vixens.
He hoped she listened to his suggestions about her dress. Blue would suit her. Not red. If she looked like a harlot, he’d have to search for another girl.
His vampire half—Darius—laughed.
You’ve been thinking about her all day. His laughter lowered until it became a low rumble. I doubt you’ll go looking for another girl. She’ll pull your heartstrings until you bite her.
Louis slipped on his blazer and buttoned it, making sure his suit lined up. No, he wouldn’t bite her. He nibbled a little, but stopped making thralls thirty years ago. Drinking donated blood from the local hospital sucked, but he couldn’t afford being discovered in an urban city like this.
Anything beat living on the reservation again.
There is something appealing about the harlot. Darius’s voice shifted to amusement. Maybe I’ll stop you from biting her.
Right. Like he’d believe the old vampire again.
If anyone could tame his inner vampire, it’d be her. She’d fight through the nobles’s charms and their beguiling games. She didn’t care about her social status or keeping the peace with his boss. If she could tell Hector off, she’d give those blowhards a run for their money.
Then he’d give her anything she wanted.
He slipped his cellphone into his blazer pocket, headed into his garage, and slipped into the Beetle he drove last night. He’d be all right once he picked up Evelyn.
If Darius didn’t have fun first.
* * *
In the end, Louis drove around town with Billie Holliday keeping him company.
Pandora had a great selection for music. It beat listening to those auto-tuned songs playing on the radio. He had metal, alternative, and jazz playlists. He preferred jazz whenever he could help it.
For the party, he’d stick to his alternative playlist. Something told him his guests wouldn’t appreciate Cradle of Filth or Alanis Morissette. Hell, he could play Disney songs, and someone would whine about it. Those suits always complained about something.
The next time they got uppity, he’d play the Frozen soundtrack and tell those stuffy suits to Let It Go. He’d hire a professional cosplayer to play Elsa and sing the damn thing. Then he’d burn the soundtrack before his nieces found it.
Listening to Disney soundtracks on repeat became their new form of torture.
He pulled into the floral shop as the song ended, humming the last few notes under his breath. After Nat King Cole came on, he shut the car off.
A limousine pulled into the parking spot beside him.
He held his keys, turning one eye to the vehicle. When would those pompous nobles stop
following him everywhere? They had better security than the Secret Service. If they spent their resources wisely, they'd tag someone else.
Anyone else.
“Ah, Louis.” One of the back windows lowered and smoke wafted from the window. “I trust I’m not interrupting anything.”
Louis gritted his teeth, then moved his rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of blond hair and a Cuban cigar. Simon Hayes bothered him enough while working at Hector’s office.
Why did he follow him here?
“No.” He got out of the Beetle, keeping his voice calm. “What brings you here, anyway?”
“My sister.” Simon stepped out of the limousine. “It’s her birthday today. I’m getting her a dozen long stemmed roses.”
Darius snorted. Poor bastard.
“Well, you have fun with that.” The businessman headed toward the shop. “I hope your sister has a good birthday. Tell your mother I said hello.”
“Oh, she will.” Simon’s voice lifted with excitement. “I’ve got a great present planned for her. I’m taking her somewhere fancy tonight.”
Great. The windbag wanted to hear himself talk. How did he meet these annoying people?
Oh right. Marianne.
Her bratty kids had to interfere with his life.
He grabbed the door and headed into the floral shop. Roses, alstroemerias, and hibiscus scents tickled his nostrils. Bouquets of mixed flowers sat on the floor in plastic buckets.
Thank goodness he didn’t rely on those for his dates.
“Let me ask you something.” Simon pulled his arm back before he headed to the counter. “Did you visit a brothel last night?”
Louis straightened, keeping his composure. “I might have—not that it’s any of your business. Why?”
“I might have heard it from someone around the office.”
“Ask Hector.” Louis’s tone turned curt. “He’ll shut that shit down in a heartbeat.”
“Oh, I wanted to know the truth from you.”
Louis yanked his arm back. “What do you want?”
“Information.” Simon rubbed his hands together, then wrapped an arm around Louis’s shoulder. “If you tell me what Hector’s planning, I’ll tell you all about Evelyn Rodriguez. She’s dangerous, you know.”
Damn. What a jerk, Louie.
For once, he agreed with his vampire.
“Look, I’m not sure what Hector’s planning.” Louis swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “Even if I did, he’d keep it under wraps. Furthermore, he wouldn’t tell a weasel like you anything. As for Evelyn, I’m not interested. I can learn whatever I want from her.”
Simon scoffed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “She won’t tell you she’s superhuman or about her shady past. That bitch has cracked a few skulls when people roughed her up.”
Darius snarled, taking over for a minute. “Get your hand off me.”
“Hey, if you want to fuck a nutcracker, that’s your business.” Simon held his hands in the air. “I thought you liked having both balls in one piece.”
They did. They’d be the judge of that.
This wiseass knew nothing.
“I’ll take my chances.” Louis came back, clenching his teeth. “Good luck with your sister’s birthday dinner. I’d hate to see you have an accident.”
“Then make sure it doesn't happen, Pop.”
He groaned. Damn it.
The little prick played him.
“Simon, I suggest taking your sister somewhere else tonight.” His voice bordered on a low demonic whisper, struggling to keep Darius at bay. “She has no reason to be present for this shareholder meeting.”
“She’ll be coming as my guest. Mom couldn’t make it tonight.”
Right. Next time, he’d find a different lawyer.
One who didn’t give his ex-wife thirty percent of his company’s stock during the divorce.
“I hope you still know how to host dinner parties.” Simon headed to the door. “We’re expecting the red carpet treatment.”
The jerk walked out of the floral shop.
Sometimes, he wished he never met Marianne or her entitled son. He never met her daughter. Thank God. If she worked at a brothel or at an escort service, Marianne didn’t pay too much attention to her. Then again, she could have rebelled. It was hard to say.
She never lived with Marianne while they were married.
You’re working yourself up about this, Louie. Darius’s smooth voice washed over him. You’ll sour the mood between you and Miss Cutie Latina.
Louis furrowed his eyebrows together at his counterpart’s suggestion.
Darius was right.
He went up to the counter and waited for the clerk, doing his best to regain his composure. That conniving bastard had something in mind for him tonight.
Something to do with Evelyn.
He was sure of it.
I'd be more worried about the nutcracking comment. Darius chuckled. Then again, if she's superhuman, you won't have to worry about fooling around with her. Maybe you can date again. It’s been a while since we’ve had a decent relationship. She might handle me, too. That would be a bonus.
If Evelyn were supernatural, it'd make things a lot easier. He wouldn't have to keep disappointing the shareholders every time they tried setting him up with one of their daughters. Plus, she wouldn't break like a twig if they fooled around. Being able to hold a woman without breaking her would be delightful. Magical, even.
If Marianne and Simon didn’t screw everything up.
He pulled out his phone, then pulled out the business card Evelyn gave him. Screw it. He'd pick her up early and brief her about the meeting. It would get his mind off Simon and his unbelievable behavior.
Louis turned around and left.
* * *
In the end, Louis couldn’t get ahold of Evelyn, so he called Hector.
It crossed the line, but her safety came first. He didn’t want Simon finding her. The man was nuts. He stalked girls before. His last girlfriend filed a restraining order against him.
How did he know about Evelyn, anyway?
Maybe he visited Vixens in the past.
However, Simon made a mistake. Vixens didn’t have a brothel. The place didn’t have masterbation booths. Hector would have told him. He knew about every hooker joint in the city.
Whatever. Evelyn’s safety came first.
Hector picked up on the second ring, answering in a cheery tone. “What’s up?”
“I can’t get ahold of Evie.” Louis slipped into the car. “Maybe I should stop by her place and see if she’s okay.”
“Why can’t you wait for her?”
“Simon Hayes mentioned her when I ran into him today.”
Paper rustled on the other line. “I see.”
“I don’t like him.” Louis’s hand gripped the steering wheel hard. “I didn’t like that he knew her, either. Just give me her address so I can stop—”
“I remember the complex.” Hector’s voice turned thoughtful. “Withering Pines. It’s behind Vixens. I keep telling Evelyn she needs to drive her car instead of walking everywhere.”
He committed the complex to memory and drove to her apartment building.
The complex resembled the Projects, all right. Half of the buildings were boarded up. Homeless people slept outside one of the buildings. One of them had a newspaper covering their head.
A squatter peeked through one of the boarded-up windows and yelled at him when he pulled into the complex. When he turned the corner, the squatter came out and threw an aluminum can at the Beetle.
Jesus. No one should live here.
The place crawled with unsavory people.
“Hector, she lives in a deplorable area.” He parked his car at the office building. “Poor girl must have it rough.”
“Yeah.” His boss turned friend huffed. “She does, but she’s moving soon. Anyway, I’m at the office finishing up some last minute paperwork. I’ll see you tonight.”
�
��Right. Later.”
Louis hung up, keeping his phone in hand. His vampy senses tingled.
He scouted the area with his power.
Darius stayed silent.
What a time to go AWOL.
He stepped out his car and locked it, keeping his distance from the group of half-shifter jackal women sitting around a fiery oil drum.
One of them snapped their teeth at him.
Another woman made a cross using her fingers.
The last one held up a stake.
Damn, she picked a horrible place to live. The Projects was one of the poorest places in Charm City next to Cherry Hill. Most people didn’t resort to roasting food in oil drums on the street. Then again, they had squatters living inside abandoned buildings.
Food stamps existed for a reason.
He called Evelyn, hoping to get her instead of her bloody voicemail. After three rings, she answered the phone with a sleepy yawn.
Why was she sleeping at four in the afternoon?
“Hey.” Louis headed to one of the main buildings. “It’s Louis. You know… the guy you met last night.”
“Yeah.” Drowsiness laced her voice. “I remember.”
“Hector gave me your address, so I thought I’d pick you up early. Is that okay?”
“Ah…sure. I was sleeping, though.” Her groggy voice faded the longer she talked. “I had a few more hours. My alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”
“Sorry. I had to come into town.”
Darius chortled.
“Well, it’ll take me time to get ready.” Something crinkled on the other line. “If I had known you were coming, I would’ve met you at Vixens. I don’t like people meeting me at my apartment.”
Understandable, considering the riffraff hanging out in front of the complex.
The jackal ladies were frightening enough.
Louis entered the building, taking the steps two at a time. “You’re on the third floor, right?”
Evelyn gave a breathy sigh. “Yeah. I’m the only one on the third floor, though.” Something slammed in the background. “I unlocked the door. Let yourself in. I don’t have much, but there’s basic television.”