PixieGirl: I think I know of a place. Have him ping me and we’ll talk.
Wulfman: Will do. Let me know how it goes.
PixieGirl: Thanks, I will.
I leaned back in my chair. Was I insane to agree to meet a total stranger even if he might know something about my dad? I’d heard enough stories about girls disappearing after going to meet someone they met online. But then this wouldn’t be the first time I’d made contact with someone this way. It was how I met Malloy the first time and there were several others I’d dealt with before him. I was always careful and it wasn’t like I’d be alone with the guy.
And it might be my only chance to learn the truth about what happened to my dad. After all these years, there was no way I could pass up this opportunity. I was willing to take a few risks to finally get the answers I sought.
My mind made up, I picked up my phone.
I’m in.
By the time
Delilah’s Crush began pelting out their last set, my temples were pounding and I wished I could heal myself. Roland was right – Dylan’s new band was great – but I like my music more rock and less metal. I didn’t think Delilah’s Crush knew exactly what type of music they wanted to play so they went somewhere in between. Roland and Peter were having a great time, cheering and moving with the rest of the crowd. My sigh was drowned out by the music. Maybe it was me; I just didn’t know how to enjoy myself like a normal teenager.
The truth was that I was disappointed and more than a little annoyed that my reason for coming here tonight had not shown up. NightWatcher, the guy I’d talked to online this week, was supposed to be here at ten o’clock and it was almost eleven with no sign of him. We had agreed that I would wear a silver cross in plain sight where he could see it, I guess because vampires can’t touch silver. My fingers went to the cross to make sure it was still hanging outside my shirt and I almost smiled at the idea of anyone mistaking me for a vampire. It looked like that didn’t matter now since he hadn’t even bothered to show, or if he had, he was not approaching me for some reason.
I scanned the room again and this time my gaze fell on a dark haired man who looked more out of place here than I felt. Leaning against a wooden column at the edge of the dance floor in dark jeans and a snug grey knit top, he looked more at home in a Calvin Klein ad than here at the Attic. It wasn’t just his clothes or the way his dark eyes swept the room lazily that drew my attention; he was just too…beautiful, like one of those androgynous male models. In a room full of teenagers and college students wearing t-shirts and jeans, he stood out like a beacon.
It took me a few seconds to realize that Mr. CK’s eyes were staring into mine. The boldness of his gaze brought heat to my cheeks and my eyes darted away from his seductive smile and the invitation I saw in his stare. I had little – okay zero experience with the opposite sex – but I’d have to be comatose not to understand the signals coming from him. What I couldn’t understand was why he was turning his attention to me with all the attractive girls here trying to catch his eye. Not that I think I’m unattractive; I’m just not what you’d call alluring and I’m certainly not used to hot guys giving me the ‘come hither’ look.
A little breathless, I shifted my attention to the stage where the drummer was revving up the crowd with an awesome solo. I moved forward and nudged between my friends, dancing along with them. Five minutes later I stole a glance at Mr. CK and I smirked when I found him engaged in conversation with two shapely blondes who were almost comical in their attempts to out-flirt each other.
The band finished the song and started another and everyone on the dance floor began dancing again except for me. After downing two bottles of water in two hours, what I really needed was to find the restroom. I tapped Roland on the arm and mouthed “restroom” to him to let him know where I was going. He nodded and I headed for the ladies room where I stood in line for five minutes before I got inside. I was washing my hands when the two blond girls I’d seen with Mr. CK came in.
“I saw him first, Shelley,” one of them said, pulling a tube of dark red lipstick from her handbag.
“You always say that, Trish,” the other girl replied with a scowl. She started retouching her own makeup. “This one is mine.”
Trish checked her perfect hair in the mirror. “If you think I am letting you walk off with this one, you are nuts.”
“Letting me?” Shelley’s voice went up a notch.
I shook my head and left the restroom before the two of them decided to start to brawl over the guy. There was no arguing the fact that Mr. CK was incredibly hot, but no guy is worth fighting over, especially one you just met in a bar.
Apparently, Trish and Shelley disagreed with me. I barely made it ten feet from the restroom when I heard them coming behind me in a heated argument that drew amused looks from the people nearby. I slowed and stepped sideways to let the angry pair pass me.
It’s no wonder I don’t go out much.
I heard Shelley shout “You bitch!” a second before she gave Trish a hard shove that sent Trish stumbling backward into me. “Umph!” I grunted as one of the girl’s elbows got me in the stomach before we went down in a tangle of arms and legs. I saw stars when my head hit the hardwood floor. It didn’t help that I had cushioned the bigger girl’s fall.
Someone pulled Trish off me and a girl asked, “Is she alright?” I assumed she was talking about me because I was the only one still lying on the floor, a little dazed and not sure whether I was more embarrassed or pissed.
A hand waved in front of my face and I realized someone was bending over me. “Are you okay?” he asked in a deep voice that carried the trace of an accent I could not place. The ceiling lights behind him made it impossible to see his face but from his voice I guessed he wasn’t more than a few years older than me.
“Um, I think so,” I said, moving to get up. The man reached down and took my hand and I started at the warmth that rippled through me. I stared at our clasped hands as he helped me to my feet and I stood there for a moment before I realized I still held his hand. I let go and looked up at him with a sheepish smile. “Thank –”
He stood so close I could reach out and touch him. His face was no longer hidden in shadows and I found myself gazing into a pair of steel grey eyes that looked at me with such intensity I almost forgot to breathe. Mutely I stared at him while my stomach twisted with a sensation I could not put into words and I felt a touch against the back of my mind like the flutter of butterfly wings. I experienced the strangest sense of recognition though I knew I had never seen him before and deep inside me something stirred like a cat uncurling from a long nap.
The man blinked and took a step back, breaking the spell that held me. Remembering to breathe again, I glanced down to steady myself then looked back to find him watching me with a slightly confused expression that probably matched my own. My eyes moved up his handsome face taking in his square jaw, firm lips, aquiline nose and black hair that fell across his brow in careless waves with a few strands curling around his ears. His skin was lightly tanned and the shadow of a beard played around the curves of his jaw.
I suddenly realized we were staring at each other and I smiled to cover my embarrassment. “Sorry, I must have banged my head harder than I thought.”
My words did not elicit the reaction I expected. His whole body stiffened and his eyes suddenly blazed as if I had slapped him. I took a step back, stunned by the hostility in his stare, especially after his kind assistance. “Okay… well thanks for your help,” I mumbled and fled.
I slipped through the crowd until I spied the door that stood open to the deck and suddenly I was in desperate need of fresh air.
What the hell was his problem?
I stewed as I leaned against the rail and stared at the dark building across the street. This night just kept going downhill. First my contact doesn’t show and then I get dumped on my butt in front of a room full of people, and on top of that I act like a total idiot. I cringed, remembering how I’d stood there like a fool staring at him. What had gotten into me, going all slack-jawed over a hot guy?
God, I’m as bad as Trish and Shelley
, I groaned inwardly and closed my eyes, letting the night air cool my burning cheeks.
“I believe this is yours.”
The voice so close behind me made me jump because I hadn’t even heard him approach. I turned to see a silver chain dangling from his fingers and my hand went to my bare neck. I reached out gingerly without looking at his face and he laid the necklace in my hand. “Thank you.” I ran my finger over the cross then put it in my front jeans pocket. The chain was broken but I was glad to get it back. It had been my grandmother’s and Nate gave it to me last year on my birthday.
I expected the man to leave then but he stared at me for a long moment studying me. It felt like he was sizing me up, trying to figure me out as if I was a weird piece of art he couldn’t understand. There was nothing suggestive in his look. If anything, he looked at me with something akin to dislike.
“Are you done?” I finally asked after I’d had enough of his rudeness. His eyes widened a little and I got the distinct impression he wasn’t used to being rebuffed, especially by the opposite sex.
“You are a bit young for this place,” he said brusquely, ignoring my barb.
I bristled at his tone. “I’m sorry but I don’t think that is any of your business.”
“You can’t be more than seventeen or eighteen. You shouldn’t be here alone.”
“You’re not much older than me,” I shot back. “And I’m not here alone.”
“I am older than I look.” His voice was cool but his eyes burned into mine and the beast in my head stirred again. After what had happened to Scott, I clamped down tightly on it until it was silent. All I needed was for that thing to get loose again. Besides, this guy might be aggravating but I didn’t sense any real danger from him.
He ran a hand through his dark hair and looked out at the city. I could not help but think that he really was gorgeous. Not like Mr. CK, who was way too pretty for my taste. No one would dare call the guy in front of me pretty. There was an edge to him, serious, almost guarded.
“Nikolas,” said a voice from the doorway. We both turned to face a blond man who gave my companion a ‘raised eyebrow’ look, as if he wasn’t surprised to find his friend alone with a girl. “Ready to move out?”
I wasn’t sure if Nikolas’s frown was for me or his friend. He gave me another searching look then nodded. “Be out shortly, Chris.”
I expected him to say something else to me but he only stood where he was for a long moment before he strode to the door. He swung toward me again before he stepped inside. “Stay with your friends. This part of town is not safe for a girl alone at night.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
And that wasn’t weird at all
. It was definitely my week for strange encounters.
I waited another minute then made my way back to Roland and Peter. They were still dancing where I’d left them and Roland had made a new friend. A petite brunette girl had taken up my spot and she was rubbing against him like a cat on a post. I was beginning to wonder if the girls in this place had never seen a good looking guy before.
When Roland saw that I had returned he beckoned me closer, earning me a glare from the brunette which I chose to ignore. The band had almost finished their last set and I was ready to leave. My head was pounding even harder after my fall and I was a little wigged out from the whole encounter with that Nikolas fellow. I wasn’t sure what bothered me more; his behavior or my reaction to him. He was gone now so it didn’t matter, but I couldn’t put it out of my mind.
The band finished their last song to loud cheers and shouts for an encore. Peter hooted at them then turned to me and Roland. “That was sick! Did you hear Samson’s solo?”
“It was hard not to,” I said with a laugh. My ears were ringing.
“I told you they were good,” Roland said, nudging me with his arm. “Dylan’s gotten a lot better than the last time you heard him play.”
“Yes he has,” I agreed.
Peter punched Roland’s arm. “They’re starting to pack up. Let’s go.” They both looked expectantly at me and I waved them off.
“Go on, I want to sit down for a bit anyway. I’ll be over there.” I pointed at pair of leather chairs being vacated by a couple of girls. Roland nodded and he and Peter headed for the stage with the brunette in tow. I snagged one of the chairs and laid my head back with my eyes closed, trying to will my headache away. It was a little better now that the music had stopped. I listened to people milling about, content to sit there quietly until Roland and Peter came back for me.
Someone took the chair across from me. I opened my eyes, expecting to see one of my friends, and I was more than a little surprised to find Mr. CK sitting there watching me. He was alone and I wondered how he had managed to slip away from Trish and Shelley.
He was maybe nineteen or twenty and up close he was even more beautiful, if that was possible, with ridiculously thick lashes and full lips that parted in a disarming smile. I could not help but smile back.
“Did you like the band?” he asked in a voice so silky it was almost a caress. For a moment I forgot to answer.
“They weren’t bad. You?”
He gave a small shrug. “They’re decent, but the next one is much better. The Furies; have you heard of them?”
“No.” I found it a little hard to believe that he was into hard rock. The Attic and this type of music really didn’t seem to suit him. But then what did I know?
The leather chair creaked as he leaned forward with his elbows on the armrests. His bottomless indigo eyes bored into mine. “You should stick around to see them. You won’t regret it.”
I felt an inexplicable urge to lean forward too, to get closer to those mesmerizing eyes, but I stopped myself before I did. Wow, this guy was good. I wondered if he was aware of the effect he had on the opposite sex. I almost laughed out loud. He definitely knew.
I gave a mental shake to clear my head. “We only came to hear our friend play,” I told him, pointing to Roland, Peter and Dylan. We’re leaving as soon as they finish packing up.”